Lessons from my cat Desi, or: On not doing what we ought and continuing not to do it

Desi the Disaster is living up to his name.

My cat Desi has not been well. He suffers from a rare skin condition called skin fragility syndrome. It is a result of very little collagen production. His skin is so fragile he can rip himself open just by scratching.

There was a chance he would be put down recently (while I was teaching in Hong Kong). When my wife told me "Today was not a good day to die", I burst into tears.

Desi was a rescue from the Crookwell Veterinary Hospital. I fell in love with him the moment I saw him and he came home with me that day. I was never a cat person; now I always will be. As I sat in my hotel room in Hong Kong, all I could think about was Desi and what I could do if I was at home.

Ernest Hemingway loved cats. The words of Chapter 8 of In Our Time were burning in my brain as I thought about how I would feel if I went through all the anguish of being away, only to return and keep doing the same old same old.

Ernest Hemingway (1924) In Our Time, chapter 8, p. 12.

We have been researching ways to manage Desi's condition and help him heal. Our vet is on board. One journal article mentions that vitamin C can work, and so far it seems to be working. We will be adding yoghurt and hemp oil to his diet. I have learnt how to use VetBond (super glue) for first aid. But it is far from over.

As the Stoics would say, external events beyond our control provide us with opportunities to practise our virtues.

As James Allen would say, "Faith and the living of faith".

I didn't want to be one who "never told anybody". I can't go back to how I was. Desi taught me that.

You were in a Big City and there were Bright Lights

West 42nd Street between 7th and 8th Avenues (1984). Photo by TedQuackenbush [CC BY SA 3.0] via Wikimedia.

Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerney

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I "discovered" Jay McInerney when I watched the BBC2 documentary Sincerely, F. Scott Fitzgerald. McInerney's first novel remains a winner. 

Set in Mahattan in 1984, the story covers how almost everyone felt in the 1980s. That time when you were done with nightclubs, but there was nothing else to do. You kept going back, but all you wanted to do was something else. 

This is the first novel I have ever read in the second person. McInerney makes it work. Apparently it was turned into a film starring Michael J. Fox (I never saw it) and also an Off-Broadway rock musical from 1999. 

I often listen to music while reading and writing, usually minimalism and John Adams in particular. The trouble is I have been listening to the same music over and over for more than ten years and sometimes I have to change. 

Lately I have been in the habit of listening to music from the time the book was written or from the country of origin of the author. Most of the books I read tend to be older, so listening to 1984 was never going to happen. 

I typed "bright lights big city" into Spotify, and hey presto! There was the rock musical version of the book. This was the funniest experience I have had with music and reading. 

Many of the songs use the exact words from the book and I had to change the music when I found myself reading the exact words of the book while listening to them at the same time in the musical's soundtrack. 

The song "Coma Baby" had me cacking myself. 

Part of the story reminds me of Guy de Maupassant's Bel Ami sans the cocaine. But it finishes a bit like Tom Cruise's Risky Business or Matthew Broderick's Ferris Bueller's Day Off. It reads like a young person's novel but there is certainly genius there. 

I am yet to read another McInerney, but it is worth exploring more of his work. But the most memorable thing for me was the incident with the music and the book. Not to take away from the book, but the experience fitted right in with the tone of the novel. 

What it must have been like to be so young and write so well.

View all my reviews

The Joy of Korean Literature

Photo by CharlieOnTravel at Flicker [CC-BY 2.0] via Wikimedia Commons

The Vegetarian by Han Kang

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I have been reading a few novels translated into English lately and I have not been disappointed. I discovered The Vegetarian on the podcast The Joy of Serious Literature last year and finally purchased a copy. 

According to two of my Korean friends, Han Kang's work is quite popular. This book won the 2016 Man Booker International Prize which is awarded to the best novel translated into English. 

Although not a perfect measure, I am yet to be disappointed by a book that has received a national or international award. Kang's prose is brilliant, and her dialogue (a difficult skill to master) is even better. 

What I have noticed from a few international authors is the interesting use of different voices, for example, switching from first to third-person narration in different parts of the book, and also, in this book, bringing three distinct parts into one compelling story. 

What I enjoyed most about The Vegetarian was the complete absence of a happy ending. It begs the question, who was your favourite character? 

Much like the podcast's host's Korean friend, I found the artist to be my favourite. Not because of what he does, which is a bit out there, but because he is "the only character who gets what he wants". 

I doubt stories like this would work for an Anglo author - I think the tone would make it all a bit "dirty". Without giving too much away, if you are looking for inspiration, this isn't the book for you. But if you enjoy the lasting residue of stories well told, this one will stay with you for some time.

View all my reviews