As for this site, I have the urge to get back into the habit of posting regularly. (I’ve decided for better or worse not to edit too much.) Maybe a change is needed, would be fun, we’ll see, in my writing approach/approaches—this thought after reading some of Duras’s essays and articles and fragments that roil and startle with enough ego to power a new sun.
And in full rights, because she earned them and didn’t seem to care if anyone thought ego was a negative. Unless she felt like writing about how exactly she did care, once, and how that care came to be, looking into the history of its entry into her being, which she learned to tame in order to reject, on the grounds that rejecting this earned right to brag about her own genius is a devout necessity in order to fully understand it, itself necessary to facilitate a supremely clean purge.
I don’t know what I’m after by saying this really, other than reading Duras feels grand and foolish and sounds like someone whose genius maybe would’ve been tolerable in person, though I doubt it very much. Politesse and tolerability are anathema to most good writers. Twitter has proven that beyond a doubt! And I can’t get away from that monstrosity even here, taking time away from everything to try a new essayistic ploy (grasping at the shadows of a genius’s words) to inject some life into my blog, a thing I feel egotistical enough about to want something for it as if it were a creation whose future deserves my energy and care.
Though a blog too is a form of ego. But only in the way of knowing you are breathing in and breathing out and controlling that breath to calm yourself down on a regular basis could be called ego. Self-preservation. Discipline. Protecting oneself from annihilation.