tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905080602885676490.post921760549582066013..comments2024-03-27T20:34:09.464+01:00Comments on zmkc: Who Started It?zmkchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08972549292961948240noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905080602885676490.post-90832315180755568982010-10-07T13:28:35.516+02:002010-10-07T13:28:35.516+02:00Gadjo - this bit seems very Pinteresque too:
&quo...Gadjo - this bit seems very Pinteresque too: <br />"My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.<br />"Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.<br />"What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?<br />"I never know what you are thinking. Think."<br /><br />I think we are in rats' alley<br />Where the dead men lost their bones.<br /><br />"What is that noise?"<br /> The wind under the door.<br />"What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?"<br /> Nothing again nothing. <br /> "Do<br />"You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember<br />"Nothing?"<br />I don't rush out to see Pinter, but the one thing that always strikes me about him is the way that, after you've seen one of his plays, you become aware of your own banality every time you open your mouth.<br />Recusant - it wasn't that I admired Pinter before (although, as I said to Gadjo above, his work does have some quality that makes you briefly more self-conscious), it was more that I thought he was a pale imitation of Samuel Beckett (minus the jokes) rather than of Eliot<br />Nurse - it's the medical references that appeal to you, I imagine: "Like a patient etherised upon a table" (are you still using ether at the Gimcrack?)zmkchttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08972549292961948240noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905080602885676490.post-22944285821000883942010-10-07T11:58:54.231+02:002010-10-07T11:58:54.231+02:00I prefer The Love Song of J Alfred PrufrockI prefer The Love Song of J Alfred PrufrockAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905080602885676490.post-29902595917064230072010-10-07T10:44:22.985+02:002010-10-07T10:44:22.985+02:00"and Pinter was just a pale imitation"
..."and Pinter was just a pale imitation"<br /><br />I know,de mortuis nil nisi bonum, but wasn't he in so much?Recusanthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11446741817585462393noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905080602885676490.post-82667693768383695962010-10-07T07:37:46.618+02:002010-10-07T07:37:46.618+02:00I remember this passage very clearly as my father ...I remember this passage very clearly as my father had an old LP recording of Eliot's The Wasteland which I used to play to myself. I have to be honest and say that at the time it struck me as a bit 'naff', particularly as my grandmother was similar to the sort of person being depicted there, but I like it more now. And it makes a welcome change from Eliot's constant references to figures of classical mythology. I still can't do Pinter, though, sorry.Gadjo Dilohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08998278830936531990noreply@blogger.com