Maureen Gallace
“Malcolm believes in Malraux and Max Weber: art is the real history of nations. In the details of his person there is evidence of a process not fully complete. It is the making of a man into a true instrument. He is preparing for the arrival of that great artist he one day expects to be, an artist in the truly modern sense which is to say without accomplishments but with the conviction of genius. An artist freed from the demands of craft, an artist of concepts, generosity, his work is the creation of the legend of himself. So long as he is provided with even a single follower he can believe in the sanctity of this design.”
James Salter, Am Strande von Tanger
She held her cheek / against her hands / her eyes were blurred / with blue with green with purple / she let her mouth / her gloves and her handkerchief / drop / do you remember / that scent of acacia.
