Mumble

Have been back for a few days now. It was a wonderful if overspent trip to the south. The changes in landscape alone are phenomonal. The trip to Faulkner's house was easily the zentih of said endeavors and becoming aware of the implicit apartheid of Mississippi was the most unsettling - other than Beale Street.

We bought several tomes and all of it exciting. I read on of them, The Edited Correspondence of Shelby Foote and Walker Percy, it is a moving testament to friendship and a dimension of issues that us mortals can't begin to properly address.

The struggles with the Mountain continue though I have enjoyed the emergence of Naphta, a figure approximating the hungarian Marxist philosopher Georg Lukacs. I recall finding a volume in Bloomington years ago which chronicalled this comparitive evaluation. The biography of this Jesuit turned Socialist is fascinating, though I fear I hear the whisper of Lenin in such prouncements.

A new book about Iran is underway with my mates and I can't say much more concerning the writing 50 pages inward, but the subject is as engaging as ever.