Splinters

RSB?s two recent entries on Raymond Federman (one of which links to his weblog) made me think of the summer of 1998. Sitting in a full auditorium at the University of Jyv?skyl?, me and a friend were waiting for Neil Gaiman to start his show. Nah: some geezer took the stage instead.

40 minutes later, I was convinced he was actually a rather spellbinding geezer. A turning point was reached that day: oblivious until then to the powers of experimental literature, I soon started to move in that direction with great interest.

At the reading, Federman performed at least the following stories: THE WORM, FEDERMAN and THE POTATO THAT BECAME A TOMATO. Some years later, I recognized him as one of the interviewees in a Beckett documentary. He looked chubbier.

One final thing: the reading ended with a longish short story. It was a weird duet between Federman and his Finnish translator.

??She is a prostitute!,? I thought.? read Federman.

??H?n on huora!?, ajattelin.? read the translator.

?There?s a difference between prostitutes and whores.?, thought I.

And yes, I did start to compose my thoughts in English quite a while ago.