Monsieur Ambivalence: a re-reading

Already I can see it's one of those days when it's a privilege to be alive.

When I look out my window I can see one of the masts of the Golden Gate Bridge and it looks like a sentence I want to keep writing and writing and writing.

I'm re-re--re---reading Monsieur Ambivalence by Thomas Fuller. It's a book that the more you read the more you want to read, the more you keep reading the more you want to keep reading. But not too much at one time, it's not a book like that. It's a book that you read 3 or 4 pages, then stop, then pick up a little later and read 3 or 4 more pages.

I really wonder how the guy wrote it? I mean I know Tom Fuller pretty well but even at that I can't really see him sitting over a piece of paper writing Monsieur Ambivalence like I can see Philip Roth or Norman Mailer sitting over pieces of paper while writing their books.

Monsieur Ambivalence isn't written at all. It's more like it's being made right in front of your eyes, poured into a vessel as a sculpture that's being created out of words that gather their energy in that space between being spoken and being written. Such as it is there is no story, and that there is no story is the story.

I felt missing from my life, I'd come to France to get away from the life I was living, to read Pensees over and over again and to write every day so that I might better understand. I thought this was a place that had everything I didn't have, and I'd come to try to learn to sit quietly in a room by myself for one hour. (pps. 18,19).

That's the plot of Monsieur Ambivalence if there is one.

Perhaps the way Tom Fuller was able to maintain the voice all the way through Monsieur Ambivalence was discovered in that very space of talking and being talked to and of listening. I don't really know, it's just a guess, I supposed I'll have to ask him someday soon.