Harping On

I've just finished reading To Kill a Mockingbird. It was really enjoyable; one of those GCSE-type books that you drain all the fun from through over-analysis. Luckily I didn't study it, so was able to enjoy it on its own merits.

I can't remember enjoying any of the books I studied at school, and I'm sure it's not because I didn't like reading (if only we could have done some Roald Dahl or the Hobbit, or one of those Point Horror books). It's just that you're introduced to reading in such a systematic way, pouring over the nuts and bolts, that emotional connection has nothing to do with it. Teachers would be better off trying to help kids find a book they love, something they can be passionate about, then after that they can demolish the magic with talk about literary techniques and shit.

That's probably a naive thought. The idea of loving a book would be enough to have you beaten to death at my school. They'd be better off doing classes on onomatopoeia in Guitar Hero.

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Whilst searching for how to spell 'onomatopoeia' my Intenet Explorer window froze up. I might as well say this now (and I'm sure it's been said quite a lot): Windows Vista is shit.

I don't usually care about people's problems with computers, as the faults are usually unnoticable by anyone other than nerdy losers, but Vista is all kinds of bollocks. It's ok until you try and do anything, after which it can't cope.

Luckily this blog site has the useful function of auto-saving your post, so I didn't lose anything. So I decided to try Firefox, but had to install some plug-ins, so fuck 'em.

Vista is shit. But all (I hate generalisations), ALL Mac users are cunts. What am I to do?

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I suppose To Kill A Mockingbird is one of those attempts to write 'the Great American Novel'. These attempts tend to have a similar feel to them, even if it's something intangible. There certainly seems to be a common thread through Mockingbird, Rye (Catcher), and Road (On The).

I don't know what the Great American Novel is supposed to be. It's like there's some Platonic Form out there that everyone is trying to emulate. American novel-writing is just attempted mimesis, which is stupid because the idea of Platonic Forms is a load of old wank.

It seems that there can only be one Great American Novel. And we obviously haven't found it yet. I wonder if we will one day. Some editor will read a manuscript over his cornflakes, yawn, and say: "Oh good. We've found it", after which everyone will strive to write the Second Greatest American Novel.

I might be wrong, and the GAN (I'm not above using acronyms) is just a genre of book, one that exeplifies American ideals of equality and individualism, of childlike bravery and integrity, of independence and the outsider; highlighting the hypocrisy of the American dream. And the only place to really find these qualities is in the pages of certain books, which get burned by the people they're about.

The Great American Novel is probably the one that's the most flammable.

The American Dream (not Dusty Rhodes) is weird that way. The country's built on principles that are almost entirely ignored (see waterboarding for a good example). But they do have the freedom to sometimes, for a little bit, before the flames have charred everything, whisper some truths. To the people holding the matches. Who are celebrating their freedom.

Oh well, I can't complain. It's given me the opportunity to be quite pretentious for a while.

Also, it's given me the idea for another genius character: Bill Bockingbird. He'll probably be a lawyer or something. I don't know. But he's got a good name.