A couple favorite blurbs from Nick Hornby’s A Long Way Down, his latest. Better than About a Boy, not as good as High Fidelity.
How many times can you be called a fag before you snap? Not that I mind being called a fag, blah-blah-blah-blah, and some of my best friends, blah-blah, but to me, being a fag is about whether you like guys, not wether you like Don DeLillo—who is a guy, admittedly, but it’s his books I like, not his ass. Why does reading freak people out so much? Sure, I could be pretty antisocial when we were on the road, but if I was playing a Game Boy hour after hour, no one would be on my case. In my social circle, blowing up fucking space monsters is socially acceptable in a way that American Pastoral isn’t.—JJ
And that’s me: I suffer from a failure of imagination. I could do what I wanted, every day of my life, and what I want to do, apparently, is to get walloped out of my head and pick fights. Telling me I can do anything I want is like pulling the plug out of the bath and then telling the water it can go anywhere it wants. Try it, and see what happens.—Jess
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