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November 15, 2007 3:42 PM Subscribe
I liked that. I've never heard John Updike speak before. I like that his speech flows as nicely as his writing.
posted by martinX's bellbottoms at 4:21 PM on November 15, 2007
posted by martinX's bellbottoms at 4:21 PM on November 15, 2007
I was just thinking about this short story this morning. Thanks for the post.
posted by ibmcginty at 4:48 PM on November 15, 2007
posted by ibmcginty at 4:48 PM on November 15, 2007
I could have been an Updike stalker when I was a teen. Me and Nicholson Baker;)
posted by vronsky at 5:43 PM on November 15, 2007
posted by vronsky at 5:43 PM on November 15, 2007
Burning Trash
At night -- the light turned off, the filament
Unburdened of its atom-eating charge,
His wife asleep, her breathing dipping low
Toward a swampy source--he thought of death.
Her father's hilltop home allowed him time
To sense the nothing standing like a sheet
Of speckless glass behind his human future.
He had two comforts he could see, just two
One was the cheerful fullness of most things:
Plump stones and clouds, expectant pods, the soil
Offering up pressure to his knees and hands.
The other was burning the trash each day.
He liked the heat, the imitation danger,
And the way, as he tossed in used-up news,
Strings, napkins, envelopes, and paper cups,
Hypnotic tongues of order intervened.
posted by vronsky at 5:58 PM on November 15, 2007 [1 favorite]
At night -- the light turned off, the filament
Unburdened of its atom-eating charge,
His wife asleep, her breathing dipping low
Toward a swampy source--he thought of death.
Her father's hilltop home allowed him time
To sense the nothing standing like a sheet
Of speckless glass behind his human future.
He had two comforts he could see, just two
One was the cheerful fullness of most things:
Plump stones and clouds, expectant pods, the soil
Offering up pressure to his knees and hands.
The other was burning the trash each day.
He liked the heat, the imitation danger,
And the way, as he tossed in used-up news,
Strings, napkins, envelopes, and paper cups,
Hypnotic tongues of order intervened.
posted by vronsky at 5:58 PM on November 15, 2007 [1 favorite]
Although I had slim hope that Updike was discussing Airframe & Powerplant mechanics, the story did not disappoint. He did write "married, with two babies chalked up on his fuselage already."
posted by exogenous at 6:03 PM on November 15, 2007
posted by exogenous at 6:03 PM on November 15, 2007
Good post and film—thanks, vronsky and steef.
posted by languagehat at 6:10 PM on November 15, 2007
posted by languagehat at 6:10 PM on November 15, 2007
Cool, I've always liked that short story. Updike always has a place in my heart for writing so much about my state.
posted by octothorpe at 6:16 PM on November 15, 2007
posted by octothorpe at 6:16 PM on November 15, 2007
I hate Updike. But I liked this.
posted by limeonaire at 7:05 PM on November 17, 2007
posted by limeonaire at 7:05 PM on November 17, 2007
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posted by steef at 4:09 PM on November 15, 2007