The Airportline: Observations

Mother Airportline brought Swedish newspapers and a book by Bodil Malmsten when she came. She didn't think of this herself, I ordered her to do it. Or asked kindly. It's hard to order my mom to do anything, she is Finnish, they are not people who easily obey. They fought the Russians while the Swedes lived in their socialist dream.

Bodil Malmsten is one of the most inspiring authors I know, everytime I read her I want to write, and everytime I start writing I have to face the fact that her world is so much bigger than mine, and her Swedis prose is so much more poigant than mine. Maybe because she is older, and wiser. In a recent blog post she writes:
'I have to learn not to write. I already know how not to be able to count.' (my disturbingly poor translation).

In her book Kom och hälsa på mig om tusen år (Come and visit me in a thousand years) she writes (again, my poor translation) about reading, writing and Samuel Beckett.
'Becket was what he wrote, he wrote what he is.
There is something I've learned through the years, through all my reading, all I've read and forgotten, one thing has become clear - it's not the book your reading, its the author. No matter how little the author thinks she or he is writing about him or helself, it is about him or helself that the author is writing.'

I've never read Samuel Beckett.
I doubt that he would have the same effect on me as Bodil Malmsten.