This is kind of a brave book. The direct desperation and lack of composure of the narrator combined with the omnipresent situating of events in specific locations in London reminds me of a very particular time in my life. In the way that good writing does it reminds me of the good and also the bad and shameful that I’ve pushed down as the mistakes of a younger, stupider person. I have never made the kinds of grandiosely bad decisions that are going on in this story, nor was I ever quite sobeholden to the parasocial spectator culture but I remember all of it. I remember the acid feelings it gives you in your stomach. I wouldn’t have remembered it without this book. It’s feral. It’s a great excavation of the sexual desperation, the directionlessness, the feeling of London.
First here’s Sequel, which is one of those apps for tracking the stuff you watch and read and listen to, and the stuff you want to watch and read and listen to. I do a lot of that, and this app looks slick, but I probably won’t switch to it because it’s iOS only. For you, maybe that’s perfect.
I’m leaving London after living here for half a dozen years. I’ve been too busy with the leaving to feel sentimental about it but I’m making myself reflect. I used to find myself arguing London’s case all the time. Now I’m ready to leave it and barely look over my shoulder. I tried very hard to get here. I built a life around keeping hold of my perch here, so I have passion for the place. When I first moved here I wasn’t alone, but I left the quiet county I grew up in for the opposite end of the country.
We’ve had successive record high temperatures everywhere, but most importantly to me, in London. There was a bit of respite for a week or so but yesterday the humidity starting rising and today the temperature will follow. I don’t think I’ll find 28° intolerably hot after getting used to almost 40° a couple of weeks ago, but the humidity doesn’t make it easy.
Hyde Park is parched. The leaves have fallen off the trees weeks early, which I’m told is some sort of survival technique. The high winds that saw off the last heat wave were so violent they cracked the window. I do feel particularly at the whims of an angry Earth god many orders of magnitude larger than myself. In the meantime, I try and keep the electricity consumption down, submit my meter readings, and brace for the next hike in energy prices.
