third part of the book shifts to 1991

 he, Vidme    page 253  Dr Ole Sandburg told Lars he was sick because he masturbated and forbade him to do so and if he did not stop he would stay crazy, stay in the Asylum and never be a painter.  Lars ran away from the asylum.  Vidme is a writer.  In his thirties.  "The greatest experience of his life." 255  Few more pages in, when he walks in the rain to see the pastor of the Norwegian Church I realized I had read that part a few years ago.  I was trying to get Fosse and was rushing it.  Had no patience for the strange earlier part and read just the last section.  Then maybe I picked up the Septology in the beautiful Blue Fitzcaraldo edition and could not get far.  Found out Fosse had converted to Rome and crossed him off the list.  Last summer Eric Johnson asked me if I had read him.  So I finished the book about an hour ago, very moved by it, fascinated, rattled by the resonances slight with my Eugenia visits so many years ago, and relieved and pleased.  Looking forward now to everything of Fosse.  Now Melancholy II.  I suppose Fosse had to write it because too many people were squeamish about his portrait of Lars, the real painter and famously great, enjoys masturbation too much, links it with his art and gift for the light, and utters mysogynistic rants against women and death threats against painters who can't paint.  Whether or not this is accurate as a portrayal of schizophrenia or Hertervig's personality so far as we could know it, matters not.  Readers' responses demanded some sort of explanation.  Blurbs on the back cover clarify that it will not be an explanation but another interior exploration that even "Kafka himself would have been frightened."   Let's see what that is.  But not before completing Handke's wonderful book.  Books.  Two journeys.  America and Serbia.  

Bela has canceled Rachel tomorrow so there goes my "day off."  Snow day today pretty good replacement for that.  Royal Date now on tv, let the tacky rom-holiday love stories roll on.  

Handke  I grew lazier  . . . my observations just happened, they flowed effortlessly from my life-feeling.  103