|The first rule...
||[Feb. 18th, 2010|12:22 pm]
Back in 2003, when I was wandering around Bath, of all places, I picked up a copy of Fight Club (the book), and devoured it in the space of a few hours. I was blown away at how wrong the movie could have gone, but didn't. It was my little book of counter-enlightenment for the rest of my inter-railing trip. I had that, and a Carlos Castaneda, and the buzzings from a shamanic workshop I'd just done. The book was fantastic, and I've read it many times since.
This time, I took it with me to on a business trip to Prague because I knew it would be easy to re-read, giving me familiar mind-candy; I was reading another book, and knew it wouldn't last the trip. I'm reading it a lot more slowly, and seem to be reading a lot more into it this time. Knowing the twist just helps you appreciate it more. But I felt it was different this time. Maybe it's the fact that I'm reading it a lot more piece-meal at the moment (I read a bit in the airport, then realised that I shouldn't be reading about insomnia and the sameness of business travel when I am in fact in an airport, on a business trip, and awake but groggy for most of the day).
Still, it all felt a bit less relevant.
It didn't quite click until I read chapter 19 today. Something's changed. In fact, if you read that chapter you'll know exactly what I'm talking about, so I won't spoil it. I thought that book was timeless, in that it would continue to be relevant to modern culture - it still is, just maybe less so - but now I may have to evaluate it as being timeless in that it captured a time that a lot of people could identify with, although future generations may see less of themselves in it than we might. But, if the book was written by Tyler, he wouldn't want it to be immortal.
The funny thing is, I have a thought that the same circumstances will manifest decades from now, and there may be a generation who can identify with it again. Immortality in waves, maybe?