Monday, August 29, 2011


& now I am fixated with Edgar Oliver.

I found him off-putting at first but now find his fluid gesticulations and strange slurring Transylvanian/transatlantic accent to be fascinating, and his word choices succinct and masterful. I'm very interested in the way artful people express themselves and I love plain speech where only plainness will do. To first hear him, you wouldn't call it plain, but it is; plain like a child's speech when monosyllabic words contain many layered meanings. His voice is sort of vibrational and honeyed in a way that would make a good portrayal of some Count Dracula type, a venus flytrap thing.

The story of growing up with his sister and mother in Savannah reminds me of some of Truman Capote's short stories about his childhood in New Orleans. I love Southern Gothic and dark tales of the past and secrets growing like moss in rotting old houses. Those things. Any short Capote story, or A Rose for Emily, even Sunset Boulevard all have that creepy moldering among vibrant life thing. Even To Kill a Mockingbird contains the elements.

I love a character. He is himself with abandon.

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