Below, Excerpts from Tao Lin's "What I Can Tell You About Seattle Based on the People I've Met Who Are From There (I Live in Brooklyn)". For some reason I couldn't help thinking about this old article today and (after a twelve-hour day at work yesterday and a splintered morning) I decided to take a break and blog about it.
I must admit to having a minor lit-crush on Lin, despite the fact I've never read one of his books and know him only from his articles and Twitter feed. A little personal note: I originally read this one because Jaime forwarded it to me, which means Jaime knows way too well (i.e. the right amount) what will thoroughly amuse me. The article also incisively incorporates two other people I admire: Werner Herzog and Bret Ellis.
SEATTLE IS "ADVANCED"
I must admit to having a minor lit-crush on Lin, despite the fact I've never read one of his books and know him only from his articles and Twitter feed. A little personal note: I originally read this one because Jaime forwarded it to me, which means Jaime knows way too well (i.e. the right amount) what will thoroughly amuse me. The article also incisively incorporates two other people I admire: Werner Herzog and Bret Ellis.
SEATTLE IS "ADVANCED"
I know someone from the internet from Seattle and he likes the novel The Moviegoerby Walker Percy a lot. His name is Matthew. I argued with Matthew on the internet one time. I said The Moviegoer was melodramatic and did melodramatic things in regard to existential despair. I met him on my book tour last year. He works in a bookstore. I'm not sure exactly why, but when I was around him I felt strongly that he enjoys existential despair a lot. He seemed to be experiencing existential despair at a higher level than me and to be almost actually "having fun" with his experience of it. I can't think of any concrete details regarding why I felt this way. But it makes me think that Seattle is from the future, because I feel like in the future people will strive for existential despair, for more fulfilling and purer kinds of existential despair, in the same way people in Brooklyn strive for an apartment closer to the L train. This makes sense because existential despair is usually talked about in books and people in Seattle read books more than people in other places.
LIVING IN SEATTLE HAS AN "INSANE" EFFECT ON SOME PEOPLE
I feel that if I moved to Seattle, I would stop writing completely, not use the internet, and do something "insane" like dedicate my life to looking at barnacles very closely but without microscopes or any other magnifying device. There would be no purpose to the activity. I would do it every day. I know I feel this sincerely because when I think about it I feel emotional. A barnacle would eat me and Werner Herzog would make a documentary probably called Barnacle and in interviews say, "The insane effects of the barnacles of Seattle are inexplicable, yet it is not necessary to probe into the ecstatic truths of Tao Lin's sudden attraction toward barnacles."
I feel that if I moved to Seattle, I would stop writing completely, not use the internet, and do something "insane" like dedicate my life to looking at barnacles very closely but without microscopes or any other magnifying device. There would be no purpose to the activity. I would do it every day. I know I feel this sincerely because when I think about it I feel emotional. A barnacle would eat me and Werner Herzog would make a documentary probably called Barnacle and in interviews say, "The insane effects of the barnacles of Seattle are inexplicable, yet it is not necessary to probe into the ecstatic truths of Tao Lin's sudden attraction toward barnacles."
LIVING IN SEATTLE HAS A "REFRESHING" EFFECT ON WHAT BOOKS PEOPLE WRITE
Currently I write short books about depressed people experiencing problems with human relationships while "fighting" "various things" like "meaninglessness" and "despair." If I moved to Seattle, my next book would probably be 1,000 pages about "one seagull's journey from religious abstinence to occasional, discerning, and safe sex with close friends." I don't know, I think it would sell a lot of copies. I'm not just making a joke. I really feel I might create something like that if I lived in an "urbane" apartment in Seattle.
Currently I write short books about depressed people experiencing problems with human relationships while "fighting" "various things" like "meaninglessness" and "despair." If I moved to Seattle, my next book would probably be 1,000 pages about "one seagull's journey from religious abstinence to occasional, discerning, and safe sex with close friends." I don't know, I think it would sell a lot of copies. I'm not just making a joke. I really feel I might create something like that if I lived in an "urbane" apartment in Seattle.
SEATTLE IS IMMUNE TO "REAL" DESPAIR
I feel like most people in Seattle have "given up on life" due to a comprehensive knowledge about existentialism but in a "good" way that doesn't feel bad at all. They wake up, go to work copywriting shampoo advertisements, go home, lie in fetal positions facing the back of their sofas, and feel beautiful and existentially awesome. I can successfully transpose existential despair onto any city, but when I do it to Seattle something happens and it becomes "really good" somehow. I think Kafka would have "thrived" in Seattle and written something like seven 800-page novels about the happiness of crippling loneliness with titles like Helvetica Font and The Seattle Public Library Is Beautiful and The Joy of Existential Non Well-Being. The passage from Ronald Hayman's biography of Kafka that reads, "One Saturday evening [Kafka's sister] came home from the shop to find [Kafka] sitting on the sofa, staring blankly in front of him. Aware he had been eating very little, she asked whether he was going to have supper, but he did not answer, and they just stared at each other," would instead read "One Saturday afternoon [Kafka's sister] came home from Elliott Bay Book Company to find [Kafka] standing on the sofa, smiling widely with his arms out in a kind of ecstasy. Aware he had just published his fifth 800-page novel, Freedom in Capital Letters with 19 Exclamation Points After It, she asked whether or not he had seen review copies yet, but he did not answer, and they just grinned at each other a lot." The passage, from the same book, that reads, "[Kafka] decided to write a frank letter to [his fiancée's father], and show it to [his fiancée] before sending it. It would explain how, for about 10 years, he had been increasingly aware of lacking the sense of well-being most people had. Her father might like to recommend a doctor who would examine him and report on his findings," would read, "[Kafka] decided to write an 800-page novel about how happy he felt that something like 'bagels' existed, and show it to [his editor at Knopf]. The novel would explain how, for his entire life, he had been very happy. [His editor at Knopf] might give him a $2,000,000 advance and let him design the cover himself."
I feel like most people in Seattle have "given up on life" due to a comprehensive knowledge about existentialism but in a "good" way that doesn't feel bad at all. They wake up, go to work copywriting shampoo advertisements, go home, lie in fetal positions facing the back of their sofas, and feel beautiful and existentially awesome. I can successfully transpose existential despair onto any city, but when I do it to Seattle something happens and it becomes "really good" somehow. I think Kafka would have "thrived" in Seattle and written something like seven 800-page novels about the happiness of crippling loneliness with titles like Helvetica Font and The Seattle Public Library Is Beautiful and The Joy of Existential Non Well-Being. The passage from Ronald Hayman's biography of Kafka that reads, "One Saturday evening [Kafka's sister] came home from the shop to find [Kafka] sitting on the sofa, staring blankly in front of him. Aware he had been eating very little, she asked whether he was going to have supper, but he did not answer, and they just stared at each other," would instead read "One Saturday afternoon [Kafka's sister] came home from Elliott Bay Book Company to find [Kafka] standing on the sofa, smiling widely with his arms out in a kind of ecstasy. Aware he had just published his fifth 800-page novel, Freedom in Capital Letters with 19 Exclamation Points After It, she asked whether or not he had seen review copies yet, but he did not answer, and they just grinned at each other a lot." The passage, from the same book, that reads, "[Kafka] decided to write a frank letter to [his fiancée's father], and show it to [his fiancée] before sending it. It would explain how, for about 10 years, he had been increasingly aware of lacking the sense of well-being most people had. Her father might like to recommend a doctor who would examine him and report on his findings," would read, "[Kafka] decided to write an 800-page novel about how happy he felt that something like 'bagels' existed, and show it to [his editor at Knopf]. The novel would explain how, for his entire life, he had been very happy. [His editor at Knopf] might give him a $2,000,000 advance and let him design the cover himself."
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