a fresh start
A draught is banging the door between the rooms. Frost is melting off the roof. The central heating has broken down again, in deep mimicry of the economy. I wonder if I can get that into the new book, if what I’m working on is a new book. I read an interview with Ralph Fiennes. He’s talking about moving Coriolanus “to the modern-day Balkans”, wherever he conceives that anti-sublime to be (& to what purpose), but I’m more interested in the way the interviewer locates him: at a “non-place” somewhere in east London, the interview begins, somewhere satnav can’t reach. I blow into my fingers & smell soap. I feel as if I’d like to be in a location satnav can’t reach. Not an edgeland–though I’m re-reading Richard Mabey just now–just somewhere visible on the map but not on the ground. We think of ghosts as haunting places. What if places can haunt places ? I bet they can. I wonder if I can get that into the possible new book, too. Any excuse to open the file & have a look at the shiny incompleteness of it.