Today's cold but sunny. Which is kind of unusual for this time of year in NE Ohio. Winter here is typically rather grey and bleak. It's the unrelenting grey which darkens moods. I buy cut flowers more frequently in the cold dark months. One needs a dash of color to keep a ray of hope.
I've mentioned before that I have a childhood history of epilepsy. So it was with great interest that I read this passage in Nicholas Royle's The Uncanny:
"'Epilepsy' can, Freud says, take the form of 'brief periods of absence, or rapidly passing fits of vertigo or...short spaces of time during which the patient does something out of character, as though he were under the control of his unconscious'...Indeed, the sense of 'epilepsy'--like the uncanny itself--speads out, spreads back, diffusing and grafting itself everywhere. For example, in sex: as Freud notes, 'the earliest physicians described coition as a minor epilepsy, and thus recognized in the sexual act a mitigation and adaptation of the epileptic method of discharging stimuli'... Sex: the epileptic uncanny." (151)
I wrote another section of Appearances and am mulling what to do next. The metaphysical stage machinery creaks exceedingly loudly in this novel. I like that. It's a novel of ideas expressed in a non-academic way without too much lubricant. And, so far at least, there is no sexual content in it. I doubt there will be.But the parts rub up against one another in interesting ways.