As You Like It

It's last Saturday night and Paul and I are moving our way, one beer at a time, up and down Brunswick Street. Our conversation turns to what books we recently liked or hated. I liked Gun With Occasional Music by Jonathan Lethem. Paul enjoyed The English Passengers by Matthew Kneale. I hated The Ambulance Chaser by Richard Beasley. Never buy a book in an airport! I drunkenly exclaim. Better to stare at the back of a seat! I yell loud enough to draw uncomfortable looks from the punters.

I mention that I've nearly finished The Origins of Adversary Criminal Trial by John Langbein. After that self-consciously nerdy reading experience I'm ready for something light (I'm thinking maybe I'll try a Terry Pratchett book). I ask Paul if he has anything to lend me. He says he'll think about it.

Later, I walk home via Paul's place and Paul keenly peruses his bookcase for something 'light'. He struggles mightily to find anything fitting the description (I can read his thoughts - he looks at Musil's Man Without Qualities and thinks 'That's a good book, oh, perhaps its a little longer than what Dan's after).

Finally, Paul's hand rushes to a book. He's found something perfect. He hands it to me. It is As You Like It by William Shakespeare. I look at Paul with drunken confusion and say 'This is Shakespeare, this is not what I meant.' Paul replies, without a trace of artifice or irony, 'It's one of his comedies.'


Paul (far right) and I showing our bowling prowess with the hipsters at Fitzroy Bowling Club