(correspondances)

two reasons to post this: indirect discourse -and- keeping of drafts (they're paper, after all).

Hello Uncle Rick,

I was happy to get you letter and article—Thanks for sending! It was interesting to compare my impressions with the author's. Her's were somewhat better researched and sometimes a questions of budget (I didn't spend much time in the art galleries—I spent more time drinking wine with friends on the banks of the river, like the packs of restless youth she describes!)

School has been good this semester. I'm taking, in math, analysis and topology, along with symbolic logic (which counts as philosophy). My other class is an independent study of the work of Albert Camus in the French dept. My courses have been challenging, but I keep surprising myself by getting good grades. Not complaining!

In a couple of weeks my parents are coming down so my dad and I can run the Philadelphia marathon. I'm not as ready as i could be but I think I'll be alright. I tried to go for a longer run (~20mi.) today but I got bored after the first 6 miles, so I ran one very fast (~6min)) and another 5-6mi. as cool down, then i stopped. It's hard to pace oneseld sometimes. Hopefully I'm more patient on raceday.

In other news:
—I'm starting a new internship/job at a local farm. I start this thursday; I think we're harvesting leaf lettuce.
—I'm dating a new girl: Sara. She's nice; We have fun.
—With my independent study I'm traveling to Algeria over winter break. Camus lived there and a lot of his work takes place there, so i thought it would be a good idea to check it out.

I think that's about it, other than the really self-indulgent things I could say (What music I'm listening to, my recent obsession with pizza and reese's peanut butter cups....)

so, I wish you well.
++

———

On that other sheet of paper I put a bunch of stuff about me, but that's not all there is to say. I spend a good amount (by which i mean maybe more than you think) of time thinking about you. A couple of times I've brought up your page on the BOP website. It says your name, age, sex, race and January 4, 2016.

That's far enough away that it almost seems mean to mention it. eight years and a couple odd months. At the same time, it's something definite. Less abstract than something further down the road, for example. But if I was talking about getting restless and bored in the first five miles of a 20 mile run, I can't imagine your position. As far as that goes, I'm sorry if i'm being cumbersome (or something). I've been practicing saying what I'm thinking recently, and here's where I land.

Anyways, Camus writes a lot about imprisonment and exile—how they overlap and are the same—and while you're pretty firmly (unambiguously, that is) imprisoned right now, there's still this society (octopus, if you will) of people who care about you and to whome you forever belong. So when you come back we'll be ready. You can do what you want but you don't have to do anything alone. I'm not saying you'll have specific trouble—you're an extremely competent and useful person—rather, it wouldnt be imposing on me (us) if you need anything. It's clear that, law or no, your imprisonment is unfair. The enemy has never been you.


The other thing that's some up this semester for Camus is the indifference of the world (esp. the natural world). Camus thinks it's beautiful (He calls out the absurd [Myth of Sisyphus]), but Sartre hates it. He says that the fact that trees don't care makes him nauseous. He sees their roots brutally gripping into the ground.

I think trees are rather godlike. They can't care but they can be caring—by which I mean a tree is incapable of experiencing emotion but if you let it it will take care of you. Trees are indifferent to evil—perfectly unflinching in the face of injustice—which makes sense since there is evil in the world. Trees don't restrict our freedom in any way except for the fact that they exist. Trees are hard to deny, ridiculous to say no to. They aren't asking any questions. They world may be cruel, and the people here may not make things much better, but I was born here, and I'd feel exiled anywhere else.