A day of haze: last night my guts were grinding and exploding, from what I don't know, so I took a tiny pill of codeine phosphate – it worked, but as always it made me hazy, put me to sleep, and then this morning I was still groggy until afternoon.
A day of confusion and avoidance, unwilling to respond to e-mailed requests (fortunately few).
Then tonight again, my stomach exploding again – what? – what's going on? – I don't know, but I do know this: I ate grilled chicken and root vegetables for dinner – what could possibly be undigestible about that? So: don't blame the food.
And no, I refuse to believe that I'm allergic to pepper and salt and a mix of herbes de provence.
In between these nights, sort of floating. Thinking of various things, nothing in a very focused way; on television, French and Saunders do an amusing (and obviously expensively produced) parody of Fellini – but it just makes me want the real thing.
So I make a list, and am surprised to realize I only have five of Fellini's films on hand – I want to see them all, at least the ones after 1960. Did you know that Fellini read Jung in the late 1950s, which is what made him turn from his neo-realist style to the fantasies of La Dolce Vita? My friends Merrie and Bennett managed to shock me slightly when they said they tried to watch Satyricon and didn't like it – how could anyone possibly not like Satyricon? I forgive them, however.
But, as I've taken another codeine pill, I won't be able to stay awake to see a film. Started reading Pavic's Dictionary of the Khazars (and this should tell you how much of a book fetishist I really am – I own both versions; and, despite any apparent gender inequity, the male is filed before the female on the shelf. Well, they can't both go first.).
I don't really like most magic realism in books; which is peculiar, because I love 'real' fantasy, when it's well done (i.e. Tolkien, or Mirrlees, or Cabell, or the books in Gollancz's Fantasy Masterworks – not that garbage strewn across the shelves of W. H. Smith's.) (In fact, last week I had a £5 coupon for a book at W. H. Smith's – I went in there and, for the life of me, couldn't find anything worth buying).
However, I'm enjoying the Pavic a bit more than I thought I would – perhaps I'll get into it more this time.
Perhaps it helps to be thinking more of Jung, and archetypes, and dreams, and fantasies.
And perhaps it helps, most of all, to take a little pill of codeine....