I sing the body eclectic June 2, 2012Posted by Mark Folse in A Fiction, The Typist, Toulouse Street.
Every now and then I am reminded that not very many people (if any) make it far enough down the sidebar over there at your right to read the “disclaimer” below. Confusing The Character with The Typist leads to all sorts of “are you alright?” emails and calls. The excessively literal read it as autobiography. It is and is not. Everything you say can and will be used against you in court. You are the judge.
Maybe I should make the type of this side bar item bigger. I like the things set on the right in their current order, so this “disclaimer” is staying where it is, along with the quote from Beckett.
Toulouse Street began as a geo-memoir, subtitled Odd Bits of Life in New Orleans, set in the character of the city. Over time is has grown in strange ways. It is, to borrow novelist Tim O’Brien’s subtitle: A Fiction. It is loosely based on the life of a man of late middle age racing frantically towards and away from death. Any apparently auto-biographical bits are about “me”, The Typist, in the sense that the ringing of wind chimes forecast the weather. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is chronologically orthogonal.
I disclaim nothing.
I encompass everything.
I sing the body eclectic.