Transit PDF Book by Rachel Cusk

Transit-PDF-Book

Click here to Download Transit PDF Book by Rachel Cusk English having PDF Size 2.8 MB and No of Pages 150.

An astrologer emailed me to say she had important news for me concerning events in my immediate future. She could see things that I could not: my personal details had come into her possession and had allowed her to study the planets for their information. She wished me to know that a major transit was due to occur shortly in my sky.

Transit PDF Book by Rachel Cusk

Name of Book Transit
Author Rachel Cusk
PDF Size 2.8 MB
No of Pages 150
Language  English
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About Book – Transit PDF Book

This information was causing her great excitement when she considered the changes it might represent. For a small fee she would share it with me and enable me to turn it to my advantage. She could sense – the email continued – that I had lost my way in life, that I sometimes struggled to find meaning in my present circumstances and to feel hope for what was to come.

She felt a strong personal connection between us, and while she couldn’t explain the feeling, she knew too that some things ought to defy explanation. She understood that many people closed their minds to the meaning of the sky above their heads, but she firmly believed I was not one of those people. I did not have the blind belief in reality that made others ask for concrete explanations.

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She knew that I had suffered sufficiently to begin asking certain questions, to which as yet I had received no reply. But the movements of the planets represented a zone of infinite reverberation to human destiny: perhaps it was simply that some people could not believe they were important enough to figure there.

The sad fact, she said, is that in this era of science and unbelief we have lost the sense of our own significance. We have become cruel, to ourselves and others, because we believe that ultimately we have no value. What the planets offer, she said, is nothing less than the chance to regain faith in the grandeur of the human.

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How much more dignity and honour, how much kindness and responsibility and respect, would we bring to our dealings with one another if we believed that each and every one of us had a cosmic importance? She felt that I of all people could see the implications here for improvements in world peace and prosperity.

Not to mention the revolution an enhanced concept of fate could bring about in the personal side of things. It seemed possible that the same computer algorithms that had generated this email had also generated the astrologer herself: her phrases were too characterful, and the note of character was repeated too often; she was too obviously based on a human type to be, herself, human.

As a result her sympathy and concern were slightly sinister; yet for those same reasons they also seemed impartial. A friend of mine, depressed in the wake of his divorce, had recently admitted that he often felt moved to tears by the concern for his health and well-being expressed in the phraseology of adverts and food packaging. Transit PDF Book

And by the automated voices on trains and buses, apparently anxious that he might miss his stop; he actually felt something akin to love, he said, for the female voice that guided him while he was driving his car, so much more devotedly than his wife ever had. There has been a great harvest, he said, of language and information from life.

And it may have become the case that the faux-human was growing more substantial and more relational than the original, that there was more tenderness to be had from a machine than from one’s fellow man. After all, the mechanised interface was the distillation not of one human but of many. Many astrologers had had to live, in other words, for this one example to have been created.

What was soothing, he believed, was the very fact that this oceanic chorus was affixed in no one person, that it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere: he recognised that a lot of people found this idea maddening, but for him the erosion of individuality was also the erosion of the power to hurt. It was this same friend – a writer – who had advised me, back in the spring. Transit PDF Book

That if I was moving to London with limited funds, it was better to buy a bad house in a good street than a good house somewhere bad. Only the very lucky and the very unlucky, he said, get an unmixed fate: the rest of us have to choose. The estate agent had been surprised that I adhered to this piece of wisdom, if wisdom it was.

In his experience, he said, creative people valued the advantages of light and space over those of location. They tended to look for the potential in things, where most people sought the safety of conformity, of what had already been realised to the maximum, properties whose allure was merely the sum of exhausted possibilities.

I was surprised by the discovery that Gerard had a child. In the time when I knew him he had been so far from resolving the difficulties of his own childhood that it was hard to believe he was now a father. The strangeness was accentuated by the fact that in every other respect he seemed unchanged: his sallow-skinned face with its soft, long-lashed, slightly childlike eyes was unaged. Transit PDF Book

His left-hand trouser leg was still held back by a bicycle clip, as it always had been; the violin case strapped across his back had always been such a permanent feature of his appearance that I didn’t think to ask what it was still doing there. When Clara had disappeared from view Gerard said: ‘Someone told me you were moving back here.

I didn’t know whether to believe it or not.’ He asked if I’d bought somewhere and which street I was living in and I told him while he stood vigorously nodding his head. ‘I haven’t even moved house,’ he said. ‘It’s strange,’ he said, ‘that you always changed everything and I changed nothing and yet we’ve both ended up in the same place.’

A few years ago, he went on, he had gone for a short while to Canada, but other than that things had remained pretty much as they always had been. He used to wonder, he said, how it felt to leave, to go away from what you knew and put yourself somewhere else. For a while after I had left. Transit PDF Book

He would come out of his house each morning to go to work and would look at the magnolia tree that stood beside the gate, and the thought that I no longer saw that tree would overwhelm him with its strangeness. There was a picture we had bought together – it was still hanging in exactly the same place, between the big windows that looked over the back garden.

And he would sit and look at it and wonder how I could bear to have left it there. In the beginning he saw these things – the magnolia tree, the picture, the books and other objects I hadn’t taken with me – as the victims of abandonment, but over time that had changed. There was a period in which he realised that it would hurt me to see those things again, the things that I had left.

‘You haven’t made life easy for yourself, I’ll say that much,’ the builder said when we got back inside. ‘Like I say, it’s a can of worms.’ He looked at me quizzically. ‘It seems a shame,’ he said, ‘to put yourself through all this. You could always stick it back on the market, let some other idiot take it on. Transit PDF Book Download

Buy yourself something in a nice new development – you’d have a lot of change left over, believe me, by the time you’re done here.’ I asked him where he lived and he said it was in Harringey, with his mother. It wasn’t ideal, but to be honest, if you spent all day working on other people’s houses, you didn’t have much energy left for being interested in your own.

He and his mother got along all right; she was happy to cook an evening meal for him, and his diet was bad enough, let alone his lack of exercise. You’d think building was a physical trade, he said, but I spend all my time in my van. As a younger man he’d been in the army – he had that to thank for any physique that remained to him.

Now that his heart was on the blink he’d had to start thinking about his health. ‘If you can call it thinking,’ he said, ‘lying in bed at night panicking for the thirty seconds it takes you to fall unconscious after a day at work.’ The faltering sounds of a trombone were coming through the kitchen wall, as they always did at this time of day. Transit PDF Book Download

It was the daughter of the international family next door, who did her practice with such monotony and regularity that I had even come to learn her mistakes by heart. ‘It’s these single-skin buildings,’ the builder said, shaking his head. ‘Every sound goes right through them.’ I asked him when he had left the army, and he said it was more or less fifteen years ago.

He’d seen some things in service, as you could imagine, but no matter how twisted up those situations became – even in his periods abroad – their component elements were basically familiar to him. What he’d seen in his years as a builder, on the other hand, was pretty much a foreign country.

‘Without wishing to imply anything,’ he said, turning and looking out of the window with his arms folded, ‘you get to learn a lot about people’s lives when you’re in their houses every day. And the funny thing is,’ he said, ‘that no matter how self-conscious people are at the start, no matter how much they begin by keeping up appearances. Transit PDF Book Download

After a week or two they forget you’re there, not in the sense that you become invisible. We had arrived at an institutional-looking building in the town centre whose doors stood open so that a square of electric light extended out into the street from the crowded lobby. Lauren stopped at the threshold and pointed inside.

The green room was the second door on the left, she said: she was sure I would find it without difficulty. She herself had to go to the hotel to collect another author. She took a small umbrella out of her bag. You never want to be without one of these here, she said. She hoped the event would go well: they usually seemed to.

The festival drew very enthusiastic audiences. I suppose, she added, somewhat doubtfully, there’s not that much else here to do. When I pushed open the heavy wooden door to the green room I was instantly engulfed in heat and noise. People sat eating and drinking at round tables; a group of four men sat at one, and when the door closed heavily behind me they all turned their heads to look. Transit PDF Book Free

One of them got up, and came forward with his hand extended. He introduced himself as the person who would be chairing our event. He was much younger than I had expected him to be, very lean and slight, but when we shook hands his grip was almost violently firm. I apologised for being late, and he said that it didn’t matter at all.

In fact, there’d been a problem with the electrics in the tent: there was a lot of rain earlier in the day, apparently, and something had got wet that shouldn’t have, or at least that was his understanding of it; anyway, whatever it was, it had sounded pretty fatal. But they said they were fixing it now – all it meant was that the event would take place a quarter of an hour later than scheduled.

He and the others were having a drink while they waited. He sensed it wasn’t quite the done thing – a bit like the crew of a jumbo jet drinking before take-off – but it hadn’t seemed to worry the others at all, and they were the ones who people had come to see. Frankly, he said, this lot won’t take much chairing: one question sets them off for hours. Transit PDF Book Free

We had reached the table and everyone stood up and shook hands, then sat back down again. There was a bottle of wine on the table and four glasses; the Chair went off to get a fifth, after offering me his seat. I had met one of the men around the table before; the other two I didn’t know. The man I knew was called Julian.

He was big and fleshy and strangely childlike, like a giant boy. He had a loud voice and a manner which looked always to be on the verge of some clumsiness or mishap but which in fact was rapidly and pointedly satirical.