The Novelist, Quite Rightly, Fears The Psychoanalyst

Just As The Blurring Between Childhood And Adulthood Has Produced The Kidult, So The Stretching Of Middle Into Old Age Has Fostered Another Peculiar Chimera: Septuagenarians With Apoptosis Sporting The Depeche Mode.

If We Bought Everything On The Internet, Our Eyes And Mouths And Nostrils Would Probably Begin To Film Over With A Tegument - One Initially Tissue-thin And Capable Of Being Removed Each Morning, But Which Gradually Thickened And Hardened Until We Were Imprisoned In Our Own Tiny Minds.

I Always Wanted To Write Fiction. Always. As Far Back As I Can Remember It's Been Integral To My Sense Of Myself - Everything Else Was Always A Displacement Activity.

Life, It Is True, Can Be Grasped In All Its Confused Futility Merely By Opening One's Eyes And Sitting Passively, A Spectator On The Stands Of History - But To Understand The Social Processes And Conflicts, The Interplay Between Individual And Group, Even The Physicality Of Human Experience, We Have Need Of Small-scale Models.

It Might Be An Idea For All Literary Critics To Read The Books They Analyse Aloud - It Certainly Helps To Fix Them In The Mind, While Providing A Readymade Seminar With Your Audience.