Decided to read Conrad's Heart of Darkness again, ahead of teaching it next term. I thought I knew it backwards, sideways, every which way, but it still astonishes and depresses. I know JC gets a lot of flak from some quarters for being excessively adjectival in terms of the mysteriously unspeakable and all that, but I think the words work. At its finest, and HoD is as good as it gets, his work reminds us of the unfathomability of just being here.
I've been intending to reread The Secret Agent for the longest time. That's now become a matter of urgency.
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