There comes a time in everyone’s life where they ask themselves- what on earth am I reading? I’m taking a world literature course at university, which basically allows you to study writing from different cultures, and different time periods. If you hadn’t already guessed, I’ve had many ‘What the fuck am I reading?’ moments in the four short weeks I have studied the course.
Some books include ‘Journey to the West’- the story of an overconfident monkey who takes a piss on Buddha’s fingers. Not forgetting Franz Kafka’s epic ‘The Metamorphosis’ where a man turns in to a giant beetle, and is only concerned about how he’s going to get to work.
So far, all stories have been interesting to say the least. You may then be wondering where this post is going… can you really get any stranger than monkey relieving himself on a Gods fingers?
Apparently, yes- Yes you can.
If you’ve never read ‘Gargantua and Pantagruel’- good- don’t!
Tired from the hefty university workload, it is already difficult enough to untangle the old words and keep my eyes open for the seemingly never ending lists of objects in the story- but what makes reading this so much more difficult, is the random and inexplicable events that occur.
So far, a woman has taken a dump in a midwifes hand mistaking it for a baby- naturally- this baby (who is incidentally a giant) is then born from her ear.
The point at which I stopped reading, is shortly after a chapter which is all about the best material to wipe one’s bottom with, followed by a song entitled ‘In shitting’…
All the while I read on with morbid curiosity, with the terrifying thought that i would one day be tested on this entering my mind. How many different interpretations of shit can one give? Like… literally.
I think I’ve procrastinated for long enough… I’ve got around 6 chapter left to read! I’m terrified to see what else comes from these giants orifices.
Wish me luck!