All good people are asleep and dreaming.

Sunday afternoon went with Couplingchaos to see the play adaptation of Einstein’s Dreams, I’d been really excited to see it, Einstein’s Dreams was one of the first books of fiction I ever read that was not sci-fi/fantasy/vampire based; junior or senior year of college it was, and I don’t know why I picked it up, probably because of the appealing cover design and the slight science bent and the unintimidating brevity of it’s 150 pages. It was the first modern fiction I’d read that was woven with such lyrical prose, wistful imagination, whimsical emotional dreamness. From there I went to Haruki Murakami and Jeanette Winterson and Nicholson Baker. Not that I’ll ever stop reading the trashy sci-fi/fantasy stuff cuz I still love all that, but I’m happy to have branched out into the general-fiction realm. What was it for you, the first book you read that wasn’t the usual Piers Anthony / Robert Heinlein / Anne Rice stuff that sustained us through high school?

The play was very well done, the actors were energetic talented and the writing brought back the wonder I felt when I first read the book years and years ago. But I must admit the play is a lot more fascinating clever if you have a passing familiarity with the concepts behind General Relativity, otherwise the soliloquies can come off as a buncha time-dilation frame-of-reference alternate-reality jibber-jabber. But it’s awesome.