Gabrielle Roy

           

            Maybe it was the aftermath of my marathon essay writing final stretch the day before; maybe it was just the fact that it was my first day off from classes because of Reading Week or maybe it was because I knew I didn't have to go out and ride my bike through the splatter of wet, dirty snow; but on Tuesday I felt sleepy by late morning while trying to read Nietzsche’s “A Genealogy of Morals”, so I went to bed till about 12:45. I had chosen to do something during Reading Week that I've heard most students don’t do, which was to read. I set aside the same times that my classes would have been to do my reading, and so from 10:00 to 11:00 I struggled through Nietzsche. The struggle though wasn't so much because of the material but because of a sleepiness that wouldn't have hit me at all if I’d had a lecture at the same time.

            In the afternoon I almost finished reading Gabrielle Roy’s collection of short stories about growing up in french Manitoba, “The Road Past Altamont”. Her writing is quite beautiful, especially in the story, “The Old Man and the Child” which tells of a little girl’s first experience of Lake Winnipeg with a wise old man. The title story also has some great lines, such as, “It’s strange … the way the beings who gave us life continue, in us and through us, to struggle against each other, each wishing to have us completely on their side.”

            I changed the G-string on my guitar. I might have to bite the bullet soon and spend over a hundred dollars to get my frets repaired, which would mean being without my guitar for a week. The second fret is fraying my G-strings but some of the other frets seem to be a bit sharp underneath the G-string as well.

            Since the beginning of the really cold days last week, I have not heard the voice of the shouting bag lady down on Queen Street. I hope she found shelter.

            I finished reading the second essay in Nietzsche’s “A Genealogy of Morals” in which he says that the human ability to remember developed out of punishment. I keep thinking of Nietzsche being spanked by Lou Andreas-Salomé.