And may I be permitted to say that I’m greatly enjoying it? Re-engaging with the all-too-worldly Brendan taking that journey of discovery with the other-worldly duo of Annie and Rabbit is not only enjoyable, but enlightening. I’d all but forgotten large chunks of the plot, and much of the spiritual philosophy had become dormant too. One of the darker chapters even had me feeling genuinely anxious in a way that established ‘classics’ like Dracula and Frankenstein never did. And I’m reasonably pleased with the writing style. It’s formal and complex when it needs to be, and lightweight and frivolous when it doesn’t. The only fly in this celestial ointment is the incidence of typos. I’ve found three so far, which I suppose at least offers the lesson that writers should always get somebody else to proofread their manuscripts.
So what of the bigger picture; what does it say about the progress of my life in the intervening years? I’ve changed a lot since then, which no doubt is a good thing, since standing still and being comfortable leads only to apathy. I’m far less certain of things than I was ten years ago, less dogmatic, even humbler in a way that I hope is not sanctimonious. Nevertheless, it’s good to recap and set a few things back on the shelf where they belong.
* * *
I had a visit from Mel on Sunday. She talked about the business of dying and wondering who would be there to collect her when it’s her turn to go. I said that I doubted there would be anybody to collect me because I’m too much of a loner. I’ve changed my mind now and decided that I should like it to be Annie and Rabbit. I can’t think of anyone better qualified, if only such a thing were possible.
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