From Nick Hornby's 1995 novel-turned-movie High Fidelity:
I don't know. It sounds stupid to say it, but despite what we're talking about, I really enjoy myself -- I don't feel afraid of anybody, and whatever I say people take seriously, and I catch Laura looking fondly at me from time to time, which helps morale. It's not like anyone says one thing that's memorable, or wise, or acute; it's more a mood thing. For the first time in my life I felt as though I'm in an episode of thirtysomething rather than an episode of . . . of . . . of some sitcom that hasn't been made yet about three guys who work in a record shop and talk about sandwich fillings and sax solos all day, and I love it. And I know thirtysomething is soppy and cliched and American and naff, I can see that. But when you're sitting in a one-bedroom flat in Crouch End and your business is going down the toilet and your girlfriend's gone off with the guy from the flat upstairs, a starring role in a real-life episode of thirtysomething, with all the kids and marriages and jobs and barbecues and k.d. lang CDs that this implies, seems more than one could possibly ask of life.
Tags: Nick Hornby, High Fidelity
No comments:
Post a Comment