The Last Writer in San Francisco

The writer sees this stuff happening right in front of his eyes, this phenonmena, forwards and backwards at the same time.

The writer lives in San Francisco, a city of mammoth compactness in the midst of a Goldrush of invisible commerces. He writes while looking out of a window; to him, the light of the San Francisco morning looks like the gold is pouring in from all corners of the world.

What's happening during the Goldrush is the stuff the writer is looking at. What happens after The Goldrush is the question his leaders should be asking; the writer is pretty sure his leaders aren't asking that question. 

The writer remembers summer, 2019. He's stomping around a graveyard in Jerome, Arizona at dusk looking for his grandfather's grave when all the time he knows, however subconsciously, his grandfather is buried at Forest Lawn just outside Los Angeles.

Sometimes his imagination gets the best of him, and sometimes the worst.

Recently, he imagines the first meeting of Adam and Eve as the meeting of the creative writer and the critic who has written a criticism of the creative writer's first book. Adam's the writer, Eve's the critic. 

Last night the writer watched NetFlix, a detective show set in Great Britain involving the murder of a young boy. What he really admires about the show is its use of a language he's supposed to understand--English--while conveying so little comprehensible information that he's forced to invent/create his own language to understand it.

A colleague of the writer recommends that he read the novels of a German writer, a Nobel Prize winner.

Admiring the acute literary awareness of the colleague, a writer of books herself, he takes her recommendation to heart and begins reading the German novelist in translation.

Halfway through the novel the writer sees that all writing, his writing and the writing of others, is about writing, and that this particular novel, written by a German Nobel Prize winner, is narrated by the filmmaker Werner Herzog and is certain to be made at some point in the future into a feature film.

Brooks Roddan1 Comment