I like to think that I can get through the stack of nonfiction books near my bed the 9/11 Commission Report, On Holiday, a swedish anthropologist’s look at the history of vacationing in the U.S. and Europe.
But since I’m convinced that no one else actually read the Report, despite all those weeks on the best seller list, I needed to read something fiction for creativity’s and sanity’ sakes.
Browsing through N.O.’s bookshelf I found No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai. Confused as I am sometimes about his mind and the Japanese condition, I started reading.
As a side note, N.O. reads older Japanese books in English as the language is more contemporary than the original Japanese text. Japanese of only a half-century ago is as foreign to him as English from four centuries ago is to English speakers.
As often happens, though, I’m finding the Kafka-esque book is telling me more about myself than about him.
It’'s be a quick if depressing read. A needed break from consumerist holidays and terroism. More tk as I discover it.