Sewn up | 4 April 2007

I finally finished This Is My Country, What’s Yours? with something like disappointment. I was drawn in by that early chapter on the Inuit, and then somehow survived a big dull bit in the middle-end, but the last hundred or so pages were better, and I managed to polish off the Epilogue before falling entirely to sleep. Near to the last I was heartened by some words from Gaétan Soucy:

If you think about it, we’re all living in a fiction already. We live in a world of the imagination. … We can’t come to terms with the worlds we live in without fiction because we’re all made of fiction. … Our life is sewn up of difference kinds of fabric, every stitch tangled up between them. What I believe is that the fiction we write or read or see on the movie screen helps us. It makes us aware of these fictitious relationships that we have with ourselves.

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