Been reading a lot recently, as the winter has set into my room and words on the page are the only thing keeping me from sliding into complete hibernation. Well, that, and my electric footwarmer, which happens to be the greatest piece of desk paraphernalia every made, a massive inducement to just stay put at the computer where my feet are warm enough for blood movement.
Since returning to Kyoto from Canada this October I’ve chewed through seven books, the most recent of which was Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis. The story follows Jim Dixon, an assistant lecturer caught up in the petty intrigues of academic life and a lousy relationship with a neurotic that he can’t shake.
The book is a study in frustration, and its humor comes through best in Amis’ description of Jim’s internal monologue, the snide comments he can only make to himself, the way he turns away from someone to make elaborately described faces of impotent rage.