January 17, 2012


Chall and Sebastian at Posana last night. Many of my students were there, but most arrived at the edge of prompt, ordered dinner, which arrived just as the reading was about to begin, therefore entered past the middle of the reading. Where do people learn manners anymore? Maybe they just don’t, relying on what they feel to be good intentions to ease them through every situation. Loved C’s fiction, noir and clean-cut. S’s poetry will be good to talk about in class, for it was clear the two readers had very different senses of audience.

On the radio an account of Italian neo-fascists who call themselves “Casa Pound,” honoring Pound at their forebear. O, Alas! cried my heart. Pound’s politics and economics are interesting on paper, maybe even a little valiant, but in practice they have been associated with such horrors that one cringes when the subject is so much as brought up.

Drinks at Sazerac before going home. I had intended to go to a program by the people who shafted me in Lear, to show good will is restored–but, in fact, it isn’t.

Blessed, blessed windflower, still enduring.