About Literature And Motorcycle Jumping
Post 116:
Reading. It’s a big factor in why I’ve been a little derelict in my writing of late. Dereliction is relative, I suppose, but whatever. You be the judge.
What’s been on the list? The Classics. Not sure if the word Classics is supposed to be capitalized, but what the heck. For the high-minded readers and writers out there, these eminent works of art deserve a capital letter. Yeah… maybe.
There is no doubting some of this stuff. Currently I’m blowing through The Odyssey and some Mark Twain and re-reading Don Quixote. Wuthering Heights is next on my list.
What’s the point of reading such old stuff? Well, there’s a point, trust me. First of all, anything’s better than watching the tennis match that is the back and forth of people and their lofty political opinions. I think Mark Twain knows more about the 2016 election than most of the people that voted, myself included, and he’s been dead for a century.
Kidding aside, a big reason such works garner the label Classic is because for all we know, these folks were trying to break new ground with their art. Yeah, I’m calling it art (most of it) and here’s why: I get a sense that the great writers of the past studied and observed, so much in fact, they got bored. Why is this important? Let’s break people down into two types for the sake of this here exercise. Both types love something, even sort of obsess over it. Now one group just enjoys and keeps on enjoying. The other (more rare) group loves it so much they try to improve upon it, try to join the fray, apply their own little stamp. The little stamp is where the Classic part comes in. It’s a big-ass little stamp.
The rare group is a bunch of hubris-addled crazies, for the most part. And this could apply to anything. Right now I’m thinking of those people that jump motorcycles. I’ll watch that insanity all day, but you’re not getting me out there to try to do one more spin than the last guy. NEVER. For reasons having way less to do with testosterone, most people aren’t going to read a great novel and say, “yeah I think I could throw my hat in that ring.” But alas, I’ll go until I land the big one, as will the folks with the helmets. By the way, those people are way cooler in every conceivable way, no matter what. Sure, I can walk without a limp, but I’m bound to twist a knee getting in the car this week.
Probably the first time the X-Games dudes and Homeric epics have ever been mentioned in the same post. At least I hope so. There shouldn’t be two people as nuts as me running around the planet. See you after.
