On my way to a conference meeting today I had a few minutes to kill, and so I stopped by a "rare and used bookstore" on the northside. After perusing the dusty shelves for a few minutes, I was astounded to find a first-edition of Visiting Mrs. Nabakov, by Martin Amis (the British journalist, novelist, and essayist who is also regarded in literary circles as one of the bright, shining Londoners of letters).
I had time before my conference to read three or four of the essays-cum-interviews in the book and was delighted by Amis's range of interests, personalities, and excursions abroad. Having visited the island of St. Lucia last summer, I read his luminous essay about the culture and tourist points there, and then pressed on to read about Isaac Asimov and his penchant for self-aggrandizement and his literal book-of-the-month club ability to turn out a new volume every three to four weeks. (Oh that some publisher would give me the opportunity to do it!) And, naturally, Amis's conversation with John Updike in a hospital cafeteria was mesmerizing.
Okay, so if this stuff doesn't float your boat, don't worry. I plan to read through the remainder of this book on Friday and get on to the higher calling of eating donuts, completing sermons, and writing my own stories and essays . . . and I've got a bunch brewing in the kettle right now. More than I can count, actually.
Meanwhile, I'll pin Mr. Amis's tome under my left armpit (my non-injured arm) and cart him off to the gym with me on Friday morning. I plan to read him while I'm doing my treadmill work.
Heck, a guy has to have something good to read while he's burning a.m. calories so he can eat more donuts. And a first edition doesn't hurt.
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