I have not read a single one of these books.
(I’m also convinced that no one’s actually read all of 2666, and that it’s going to be the Great Unread Novel On Everyone’s Coffeetable, Bookshelf or Nightstand of its era.)

A podcast about books, art & life — not necessarily in that order
I have not read a single one of these books.
(I’m also convinced that no one’s actually read all of 2666, and that it’s going to be the Great Unread Novel On Everyone’s Coffeetable, Bookshelf or Nightstand of its era.)
As near as I can tell, this is Montaigne’s progression in Of coaches (pp. 831-849):
It’s that second-to-last section that M. focuses on, detailing a number of grotesque abuses that the Spanish inflicted on the natives in the new world. Reflecting on the ill treatment of the natives, he laments that America wasn’t discovered in the time of Alexander, who could have brought out the better aspects of their souls, rather than push them into darkness and war as the explorers did. I was caught up on that point, as it seemed to indicate that M. thinks the world would have been better off without a Catholic church.
Moreover, I was fascinated by the notion that, in his time, the Americas really were a new world. I’m not sure I ever considered how Columbus’ discovery was understood in that era (the first century or so after 1492). M. writes:
Our world has just discovered another world (and who will guarantee us that it is the last of its brothers, since the daemons, the sibyls, and we ourselves have up to now been ignorant of this one?) no less great, full, and well-limbed than itself, yet so new and so infantile that it is still being taught its A B C; not fifty years ago it knew neither letters, nor weights and measures, nor clothes, nor wheat, nor vines. . . . If we are right to infer the end of our world, and that poet is right about the youth of his own age, this other world will only be coming into the light when ours is leaving it. The universe will fall into paralysis; one member will be crippled, the other in full vigor.
I’m sure there’s some cutting remark to be made here, contrasting America with Europe, but I’m not the guy to make it.
What I’m reading: The Alcoholic, a boring comic book by Jonathan Ames and Dean Haspiel, and The Hot Rock
, by the late, lamented Donald Westlake. Otherwise, same as last week: Montaigne and Clive James
.
What I’m listening to: Bebel Gilberto records
What I’m watching: The last episodes of Arrested Development.
What I’m drinking: Plymouth & Q Tonic
What Rufus is up to: Playing with his new squeaky toy, a big plush pheasant. It’s holding up remarkably well to his chomping, but he’s gotten crazy-possessive about it.
Where I’m going: To Philadelphia next Saturday to visit a pal.
What I’m happy about: Since dropping Instapundit, Vodkapundit and Andrew Sullivan from my rotation, I’m able to read my daily RSS feeds much more quickly!
What I’m sad about: That the last season of Arrested Development fell so flat.
What I’m pondering: How much weight Portia de Rossi dropped from the beginning of the series to the end. We might have to go back and check out the first few episodes just to see.