A follow up of sorts to the candidacy post. Big, life-changing events, can just occur. They just happen, and that's pretty much it. They needn't be accompanied by approving signs from the divine, such as coinciding dramatic changes in the world. It might seem cynical to take this to mean that life is very seldom about you. But I think one can see it as reassuring. It suggests that if bad patches are the product of some malevolent force, they may just be our moment in the dark; a necessarily finite period of time, because, well, that force has lots of other people to get to. It's slightly odd for me to argue this, given that I personally feel as though life is at least partially "about me", in that it's propped up by the confluence of personal events. But I concede that it isn't always the case, as my recent experience has shown. So the above is an attempt to try to make a little more sense of the eternal enigma which I concede, again, might just be wishful thinking. But, if you'll permit another aphorism: life might just be about finding out how to view everything in its proper way.

Jesus etc.

As I made my way through the usual post-lunch crowd, I noticed a man with a fairly modest looking sign standing quite self-contentedly among the usual horde of students with their colourful promotions of clubs and charities. The content of his sign was less modest, though, and claimed to do no less than prove the existence of the Lord, among other things, in 5 seconds. Knowing that all manner of cranks and fools abound on this particular road, I normally would not have paid him any mind. But an insidious part of me wanted to go past him and hear his case; I don't know why exactly, but I can guess that it was to feel some sense of pity and maybe superiority. As I drew closer, however, the more charitable part of me kicked in, and I felt that only bad could come of this; most likely he would spout some nonsense, and I would be able to laugh at his ignorance. While this might have provided some brief amusement, it seemed then to be extremely mean-spirited, and clearly the wrong thing to do. Realize that all this was in the space of a few seconds, of course, and so before I could consciously walk the other way, I was already within earshot of him. He was talking to a couple of people, who looked as incredulous as I probably would have. Would have, had he not been so happy with himself. There was no bitterness typical of one who rants that we have forsaken the Lord, nor was there the condescencion or pity of one who fears the path we have taken. His simple case was made & sealed with a laugh that was, among other things, so innocent, and consequently, genuine. Looking at his face, I could not help but feel a profound sense of empathy as I heard his words. In all, I think his case was proven in much less than 5 seconds.

I should have known better than that, of course. The dimmed lights let them revel, but my eye only sought to find my role model. I found him, drink in one hand, the other jiggling loosely in a state of total inebriation. The only goal he had his sights on was shouting louder than the rest of those gathered. I felt a great sadness, but not as much surprise.

Silent moments while sitting in the midst of a sizable crowd are special. A part of me uses them to affirm certain existential truths it feels it has unearthed.

Voss

"And what about you, Frank?", he said, or shouted again, so recklessly that one old mare pricked up her drowsing ears.
"Have I not taught you anything?", he asked.
"To expect damnation", said Le Mesurier, without considering long.

I don't consider the above to touch upon the true "meaning" of Patrick White's Voss in any sense, but it is something that I found particularly striking. The novel is far too dense for one reading, spread over two months, to discover its secrets - and so I will not attempt to analyze its deeper meaning or central themes. Certainly, to paraphrase Voss himself, it uses the narrative as an opportunity to provide some insight on the human condition, and as it goes with such novels, there is precious little I can offer that is not a mere quotation, followed by a sigh of pleasure. Suffice to say it is powerfully written, and more than satisfied my expectations.

I guess I really wanted to remark on why I started the book in the first place, which, as is often the case, was due to a pure whim on my part. Well, this was a whim that actually turned into something of an infatuation. There was something about the description of White's work, Voss in particular, that I felt drawn to. Perhaps it was the excitement of seeing how he might use the desert as a device to reveal great existential truths. Or something like that...as it goes with my whims, I am all to eager for some great universal revelation to be presented to me, without much knowledge about truths that have passed by me before, and an almost child-like (winsome?) fascination that does not really seem befitting of the subject matter.

It was a tough read, but I am glad I pulled through. The first third took next to no time, which seems appropriate given that this is pre-expedition. The middle third was a long, arduous journey for me, much like the book. And the last third...well, you get the idea. There were most certainly times when I gave serious thought to putting it down, and admitting defeat; somehow, though, I persevered, and reached easier terrain!

Anyhow, a second read seems inevitable, even if I cannot place the time. It will be revealed to me, I am sure.