Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Caught The Sting on TV yesterday and was annoyed by the goofy music and the editing--the wipes may be corny but at least they're intrusive--but I was charmed by the premise of non-violence and God wasn't Paul Newman a great actor, you look at him and listen to him and he makes you feel so secure. Reading Joan Didion's Slouching Toward Bethlehem this evening; found it abandoned in a box with some other books on Upton Street a few weeks ago, a paperback with one name written inside the front cover, along the top edge, in fountain pen, and another in ballpoint on the fore-edge; can't tell if I'm enjoying it or not, just reading along, it's a collection of magazine pieces, the last I read mentioning Newman. I had seen a photo of him on the cover of a tabloid some weeks ago, looking thin, so his passing didn't shock me. God what a wonderful actor. He could be so intense. And yet that smile; it made you feel everything was, unquestionably, going to be all right.