Carrefax

So, that concludes "C" by Tom McCarthy. Now let`s go meditate on connectivity and hope that we manage to connect with the alien pyramid in the himalayas.
Yeah. More or less.

A charming book. Very intelligent in parts. But at times rather banal in its patternings. Banality is probably necessary to portray Serge, that i can understand. But it makes the novel less edgy than it could be. The subject matter, communication and perception, is framed well, and the period through which it is seen is fascinating. But the fragments through which i feel i am conveyed something of importance, something that really gets me to straighten my back and focus, are felt as -parts- of the narrative, not the narrative as a whole. The nuances are at times superb, the characters interesting, the social situations relevant, the world murky, and all fits together well. But occasionally it feels as a "man walks through world, ponders, has sex and dies". Which is okay, i guess. It`s what we all do after all.

But i really enjoyed the chapter on his upbringing in a home of natural science, theatre, experimental attitudes and veiled communication. That part of the book managed to hook me enough on Serge to make me want to finish it, even if the other chapters weren`t up to carrying such a promising introduction.

What i`ll remember is the descriptions of Serge playing with his wireless set at home as a child. McCarthy`s descriptions of the pure joy of listening in on the signals of the world were really beautiful. So is that particular subject matter.