That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
- Shakespeare (Macbeth)
(still midway through Sophie's World; post Women in Love, Woolf's To The Lighthouse and a compilation of Checkhov's works)
3 comments:
Another new fellow from Sophie:
"Once upon a time, I, Chuang Tzu, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of following my fancies as a butterfly, and was unconscious of my individuality as a man. Suddenly I awaked, and there I lay, myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man.."
http://www.humanistictexts.org/chuang.htm
how is 'to the lighthouse?'
nice - like Dalloway, very sad yet fantastically uplifting.. You know how brilliantly Woolf writes. But for you, I'd advise Lawrence first.
(Me looking forward to The Rainbow)
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