Here I am reading Damon Galgut’s The Imposter and I came across this passage. It’s a story of Adam, a white South African man in crisis mode, who lost his job and his house, who decides to pick back up writing the poetry he dropped 2 decades earlier. Adam’s younger brother sees him as a charity case and suggests that Adam move out into the boonies and take up residence in a dilapidated house bought years earlier. Surely, with oodles of time on his hand Adam will start churning out some epic verse…? But no, the time weighs heavily and instead of Adam getting lots done, he accomplishes zero… well at least so far. I’m not done with the book yet, so perhaps things will look up for Adam.
But here’s a great passage about how a lack of demands can have detrimental results, and this quote seemed pertinent to the times:
“In just a few week he had lapsed into inertia. It was very hot; a massive weight of sun pressed down on everything. The light at noon cut human faces to the bone. The effort required, even for simple daily tasks, could seem too much.
He spent hours and hours entirely on his own. In his old life, in the city, everything had been arranged around particular points in the day. Now those points had gone. Not long after he’d arrived he had taken off his wrist-watch and left it somewhere, intending to pick it up later. But there had never been a reason to pick it up.
Time changed shape. Now he could sit and ponder something for what seemed like a moment, but when he came back to himself, several hours had gone by. It happened more and more that whole days disappeared behind him without trace, measured in the atomic drift of dust, the creeping progress of branches as they stretched towards the sun. And the sun itself, in its vast stellar motion, became a blotch of light that moved imperceptibly across the wall. He watched the light move. Or he saw a fig fall from a tree, and it fell and fell without ever hitting the ground.”