Connie’s Reviews > Beginning Middle End: A Novel > Status Update
Connie
is 61% done
“Perhaps there is one specific sentiment, a kind of longing or nostalgia, that can warp time strangely: I think, sometimes, I miss the present more than I miss the past. And perhaps that is a form of time travel.”
— 11 hours, 28 min ago
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Connie’s Previous Updates
Connie
is 72% done
“I suppose all we are ever doing is transmuting and translating: mountain to rock, rock to sand, sand to glass, glass to light, light to eyes, eyes to see, see to imagine, imagine to remember.”
— 11 hours, 18 min ago
Connie
is 70% done
“Because fiction is where memory and imagination meet.
What do you even mean, Ma?
Just that imagination looks forward and memory backward, and where the two meet, that's fiction.
That's absurd.
Why?
Because, if something looks forward and another thing looks backward, they don't ever see each other.”
— 11 hours, 20 min ago
What do you even mean, Ma?
Just that imagination looks forward and memory backward, and where the two meet, that's fiction.
That's absurd.
Why?
Because, if something looks forward and another thing looks backward, they don't ever see each other.”
Connie
is 66% done
“That moment is glass: a startlingly translucent, hard, and fragile moment of transition.”
— 11 hours, 22 min ago
Connie
is 64% done
“A boyfriend I had when I was in my early twenties used to say that the difference between porn and eroticism is only the amount of light. Maybe.”
— 11 hours, 24 min ago
Connie
is 56% done
“It's strange to think that what was seemingly the destruction of a place by natural forces—an earthquake, a landslide—was in fact the reason for its eventual preservation, whatever destruction and preservation mean in the arches and warps of human history. For about six centuries, the mosaics in the villa remained in the dark, covered by mud and rocks, their colors protected from the sunlight.”
— 13 hours, 18 min ago
Connie
is 54% done
“Some art historians say that an archaeological site is always a destruction site. Is that true? Do we have to destroy things in order to see them, sever things in order to know them? And what kind of knowing is that?”
— 13 hours, 21 min ago
Connie
is 48% done
“But in the introduction to the Loeb edition of Hesiod's Theogony […] I read that Chaos, the divine entity, is best translated as Chasm and not Chaos, because, in Hesiod's time, "chaos" did not connote disarray, lack of order, and all those things it means for us today. Chaos was perhaps a gap, an opening.”
— 13 hours, 22 min ago
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10 hours, 52 min ago
“The moon on the contrary is said to be a feminine and soft star, and to disengage moisture at night and attract, not remove it. The proof given for this is that the moon by her aspect melts the bodies of wild animals that have been killed and causes them to putrefy, and that when people are fast asleep she recalls the torpor and collects it into the head, and thaws ice, and unstiffens everything with moistening breath. Thus it is said that the moon is the great time traveler of the night, accelerating some of nature's duties and reversing its effects on the human mind. […] But the wonder of everyone is vanquished by the last star, the one most familiar to the earth, and devised by nature to serve as a remedy for the shadows of darkness—the moon. By the riddle of her transformations she has racked the wits of observers, who are ashamed that the star which is nearest should be the one about which we know least—always waxing or waning, and now curved into the horns of a sickle, now just halved in size, now rounded into a circle; spotted and then suddenly shining clear; vast and full-orbed, and then all of a sudden not there at all...”
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