>Play It as It Lays

>I’m reading Joan’s second novel, Play It as It Lays, for what must be the tenth time, or more. “What makes Iago evil? some people ask. I never ask,” is how it begins.

A few paragraphs later, this appears:

“NOTHING APPLIES, I print with the magnetized IBM pencil. What does apply, they ask later, as if the word “nothing” were ambiguous, open to interpretation, a questionable fragment of an Icelandic rune.”

Then this:

“I try not to think of dead things and plumbing. I try not to hear the air conditioner in that bedroom in Encino. I try not to live in Silver Wells or in New York with Carter. I try to live in the now and keep my eye on the hummingbird. I see no one I used to know, but then I’m not just crazy about a lot of people. I mean maybe I was holding all the aces, but what was the game?”



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