I went to the library a few days ago for John Updike, but he was all checked out. Instead, in the last 72 hours, I have read, for the first time, PORTNOY’S COMPLAINT, SISTER CARRIE, and THE HOUSE OF MIRTH. Thematically, it made a nice seminar on the futility of mating.

Roth, Dreiser, and Wharton are novelists who I’m not sure would often be compared to each other in terms of style, but they have made a nice picture of contemporary confusion for me. Topic: a bunch of young people trying to live, trying to fall in love, and all ending up either alone or dead.

This subject matter is one which has consumed my writing lately. The only thing I have to write about, other than young humanoids trying – and failing – to mate with each other, is theater.