countdown to Amis.

So tonight I've got a ticket to see Martin Amis talk to Will Self about sex in literature; I'm hoping it's a purely theoretical discussion, but I'm willing to take the chance nonetheless.  I've got my seminar with Prof Amis tomorrow morning; this'll be an ice-breaker, I guess, and maybe the HOLY CRAP IT'S MARTIN AMIS fog will have lifted by 9am, and I'll be able to make a coherent comment.  (I doubt that.)  He's actually giving two separate seminars to our class, each with a different reading list.  I chose the Tuesday group because DeLillo and Burgess feature on that list, and because the Monday group involved reading Hard Times, and that's something I've been avoiding most of my adult life, so I'm not giving in now.  The Tuesday class turned out to be considerably more popluar than the Monday group, which is a shame, because the intimacy of the smaller group would be very cool.  Still, I'll be able to get the low-down from my classmates tonight.

Martin bloody Amis, dudes.

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