A Shocking Confession.
I am a Gaddis virgin.
(I'm abandoning the TEV-favored royal "We" for the purposes of GDC.)
We're talking nothing. Zippity-doo-dah. Total cherry. I admit that only among friends.
Oh, I can talk a good game at cocktail parties. "Ah, yes, of course. JR. Sure, The Recognitions. Big books. Not for everyone." (If you're ever caught not wanting to admit you haven't read a book, nod and say "Not for everyone." It fosters an odd sense of camaraderie that usually discourages further probing, like you're in some secret club of Smart People together.)
So I am boning up, reading my primary, secondary and tertiary sources - even bought the last five dollar used copy of Fire the Bastards from Amazon. Doin' my homework. And with a fresh bottle of Bushmills and a series of color-coordinated shotglasses courtesy of my friends at Swink at the ready, I'm going to dive in this weekend. (I plan to visit the newly opened Duttons Beverly Hills to obtain my copy.)
Should be very interesting, as it usually is when I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. I'll try to stay out of the way of the experts.