i’ve been listening to The Human Stain by Philip Roth. yes, listening. since i had grown tired of all the music that i like, and radio here is dreadful, and since i get my quota of NPR on the weekends, i decided to start listening to audio books, because clearly i do not have enough books in my life.

after much deliberation, i choose Roth’s tale of displaced 70something college professor who has an affair with a 30something illiterate milk maid. of course, there’s more to it than that. much, much, much more. it’s a good’un, as most of Roth’s stuff is.

this one’s really good. so good in fact, that i find my inner voice taking on the tone of Coleman Silk, the 70something main character. yes, i’m talking to myself as Coleman Silk. it’s sort of weird, because you know, i’m not a 70something retired classics professor, but man do i have his voice down. i’m not sure if it’s because i’m listening to the book instead of reading it (i must admit, however, that i have actually read, with my own eyes, over half the novel, but never finished it for some reason or another) that this affliction is more pronounced than usual, or if coleman’s voice is just that amazing.

it’s been awhile since this has happened. mostly, i think because i’ve been reading so many damn short stories, and you don’t get to spend enough time with the character’s voice, not nearly enough time for it to infiltrate your own.

does this happen to anyone else?