Chapter 4

Have finally - and just at the end of the day - figured out a new way into my fourth chapter. As it is the chapter I submitted for my upgrade - all those years ago - it's absolutely crap as it stands. I didn't realise this until the last time I read it all the way through, or, yesterday. Wow it's some of the worst writing I've ever produced and I say that as an English student of some 10 years experience in writing crappy, last-minute essays. Thankfully, I still have time to make it better.

I'm grateful now that I finally read - and understood some of - Jacques Derrida. Something I never thought I'd say after spending a miserable half-term back in the fourth year of my undergrad degree trying, unsuccessfully, to get him through my head. I'd always say - and still will - that my weakness is critical theory. My strength is close reading; I can go on for pages with a close reading. Tying it firmly to theory...not so skilled. Unlike Nas, who has mad theory skillz.

The weather on our morning run was almost uncomfortably muggy. Even the usual denizens of the canal seemed rather out of sorts. We startled the heron (as usual) who flew sluggishly and peevishly to the opposite bank; the moorhens ran with less energy - everything seemed a bit dragged down - it felt like an oil painting that the artist, dissatisfied, had distractedly wiped with a cloth. I have got to work on my metaphors - I know this. Enjoy the rough rendering for now.