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This blog makes liberal use of AB's journals, letters, travel notes, and other sources.
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Sunday, 24 November 2013
I finished the draft of the first act of "Don Juan" this morning. It is not a good draft, but it is perhaps a better one than any draft of any previous play of mine. I have put rather more work into this than usually in my drafts of plays. The realistic idea has gone nearly altogether in this play. In its ignoring of realistic detail in order to get an effect required, it is rather impressionistic. This is the first time I have realised the possibility of a similarity between literature and art in impressionism. I expect that in looking for a parallelism to art in literature, I had been looking for the wrong thing, while the right thing was under my nose all the time.
As I was reading history this afternoon, I thought: "I am 46. On the decline. Why fill my head with knowledge?" An absurd reflection but it passed several times through my mind. Of course in the end one does things because one wants to do them. I don't read history because I want to acquire knowledge, but because I enjoy reading history. Then again, what do these slippery words 'want' and 'enjoy' mean? Probably both come down to being reflections of one's personal identity, rarely if ever articulated, but the driver of all our behaviours.
There are problems afoot with my brother Frank. Financial problems. It seems that he has obtained money by false pretences from me, from the bank, & from American buyers. He has been an ass. He is a proved fool. I don't blame him but I shan't pretend he isn't. Of course I will help him out of this crisis but he must be made to address his behaviour, and this must needs be through his pocket.
Additionally for November 24th., see 'Interesting artistic experiences' -
"Come and have lunch," he said. "I've had lunch, it's 2.30," I said. "How strange!" he said. "I thought it was only 1.15." Then as he went upstairs he cried out to a girl above: "Blank (her Xtian name), it's 2.30," as a great item of news. Fry expounded his theories. He said there was no original industrial art in England till he started i.e., untraditional. He said lots of goodish things and was very persuasive and reasonable. Then he took me to the showrooms in Fitzroy Square, and I bought a few little things.