It’s been a long week Au Pays De Miette, signified, I suppose, by the fact that we’ve gone quite a few days without a new podcast. And to complicate things, I’ve just posted a new one which, like the Fante or the Murdoch or the Dostoevsky, is close to my cuffs. That is to say (if you’re keeping tabs of my most loved writers to build Miette’s Book Recommendation Engine (and of course you are!)) that Perec makes my heart skip along to the rhythm of a 9th-grade-drumline, which is to say, the rhythm of irrhythmically loud. Which is all a long and lame excuse for the rushed and/or sloppy reading: I love Perec, see, and so my heart was beating too loudly for my mouth to have any say in the matter.
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