View Single Post
Old 12-30-2013, 12:45 PM   #18454
WT Sharpe
Bah, humbug!
WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.WT Sharpe ought to be getting tired of karma fortunes by now.
 
WT Sharpe's Avatar
 
Posts: 39,072
Karma: 157049943
Join Date: Jun 2009
Location: Chesapeake, VA, USA
Device: Kindle Oasis, iPad Pro, & a Samsung Galaxy S9.
Just finished a very enjoyable re-read of Cat by Theodore Isaac Rubin. I originally read it 40 years ago when it was still fairly new and enjoyed it then as well, but as the book is pretty obscure, out-of-print, sonewhat hard to find, and not available as an ebook; apparently my enthusiasm for the work is not widely shared.

The novel is about a man in a severe catatonic state, and it details his gradual progress from being completely disassociated from the world and unresponsive to his surroundings to the book's final page, where the individual takes his first tentative steps toward re-engagement with other human beings and the world around him. It was the following passage from the book's opening that drew me in:

Spoiler:
His arms went on doing their work. Since they were no longer part of him, he wasn't tired. They could go on and on holding up his hands. He thought, my hands my hands—the hands, the fingers. The arms, hands, fingers—they weren't his—not anymore. They just were, by themselves—and they did the job. The fingers pressed against his closed eyelids. The eyes were still his. The fingers held them in. He had a pact with the fingers. They promised him not to let his eyes fall out.

His arm was touched. He screamed—he didn't want to lose his eyeballs. He heard the voices. He heard CAT—the word cat. Then, what seemed a while afterward, he heard TONIC—the word tonic. He thought, cat tonic—cat tonic. Then he thought, health tonic. Then a voice said catotonic—putting an O between the words and putting the words together into one word. But it didn't make sense. Then it made sense. Cat O'Tonic, an Irish name—but he wasn't Irish. And his first name wasn't Cat. He kept hearing the voices. He heard the word EXCITEMENT. Another voice put the name and the new word together. He heard—Cat O'Tonic excitement. Then he heard a voice screaming, and it screamed louder and louder. Now he heard the words—''I can't see, see, see, see, see, see. I can't see.'' He heard another voice say, "If he is so frantic about seeing, why doesn't he take his hands away from his eyes?" "Would it matter if he did?" said another voice.

Last edited by WT Sharpe; 12-30-2013 at 02:35 PM. Reason: Not 3rd person. Big opps!
WT Sharpe is offline   Reply With Quote