Last year at this time, in February, around Valentine's Day, I bought a book here on Haight at The Booksmith. The book is by Roland Barthes, "A Lover's Discourse; a Fragment." I actually can't wait to read this book. I literally can't see, and I've lost my glasses. Next week I get a new pair. I will cherish them!
Meanwhile, I have to read Barthes.When I was an undergraduate in the English Department at Berkeley, i audited a course on Plato. The teacher was Alan Code. He was a cool lecturer, and I liked going to the class. There were lots of guys. One of them, a guy from France, became my friend, and then became my lover. I did not want him for a boyfriend. He was so skinny and he was like sleeping with a skeleton.
But he was fucked up by his childhood, too. He called himself a 'bastard.' He didn't know his father. His mother left France when he was 16 and he went to high school in Southern California. It was really funny to listen to his accent when he tried to use cool amurrikan idioms. He would say stuff like, "Catch you later..." And, 'vurry good" for "very good."
He used to tell me that Barthes had all the answers for us unlucky children. Barthes stated that we are always waiting for the next breakdown; the first one occurred at babyhood probably and then on.
I think Barthes is a genius. I will find out soon.
