Archived threads in /lit/ - Literature - 1244. page

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Not to mention Kierkegaard who blows every other Scandinavian the fuck out in terms of profundity and rivals the best in terms of prose

How are his plays? The Red Room was disappointing.

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>master of the sentence

per petterson

Shit is a zany reference to literature readers

>>9423358
Those things happen one time each in 760 pages

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what's with the pie fight from the hot air balloon while dressed in a plush pig costume? what the hell is with that seance? why is slothrop's father trying to kill his son in a city of the future where buildings can move?

why are they putting that boy inside the nose-cone of a rocket?

i thought this was supposed to be a "great american novel", not a drunken ether binge.

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>>9423302
I feel like there is an epidemic of retards in this country who don't understand abstract concepts.

>>9423302
and so on and so on

*sniff*

>>9423297
How long till you read it?

>>9423297
Did the same thing and had to do 45 days for communicating threats.

>he thinks from 15 to 23 is a significant enough span of time to write some silly shit like this

What an absolute joke.

>>9423206

pic related owns his aesthetic

seems really authentic desu

bump because I'm genuinely interested.

>>9423206
Maybe something where the philosophy is to go out and become a part of society. Like Heidegger's Dasein kind of.

i haven't read it yet because i'm working on my french, which isn't good enough to get through it smoothly yet. don't want to read it in english.

I read about 150 pages but he would not shut the fuck up about that fucking church so i stopped

It's beautiful.

I'll start.


Whenever it rains the puddle fills with worms, their pink bodies submerged, wrinkling, nestled in their sunken brood. Every time it rains, it's exactly at that spot, just beside the sidewalk where the water on the road drains like shit. I can see the spot from my smoking chair on the balcony, so it makes sense that I've become familiar with it. I see it four or five times a day or more if I've been drinking beer. I can't see the worms from my chair. They'd be awfully big worms if I could. Snakes, even. Monsters! But I can see the people that look at them.
I live in the city, so I often see somebody look at the worms once, and then I never see them again. These people move through the city like floating branches on an extremely long river. They never return because that's not how rivers work. But there are other people that move like cells of blood through a vein. They come through every day so I see them quite a bit.
There's this one man. He's Filipino. Not young, but skinny, handsome, maybe where he's from he's tall, but here, not so much. Maybe for work he makes sandwiches or burgers. Maybe he lives in a house with fifteen people. Or maybe he's from here. Maybe his mother was an immigrant, the First Filipino Nanny. Or the Second. But maybe not. It's hard to tell, like everything else.
I guess I do know one thing though, about this man at least. It's the way he stops and looks at the puddle full of worms whenever it rains. He looks harder than anybody else. I can always tell it's him because he never wears a hood. He'll usually squat beside the puddle, maybe he'll turn to look if anybody's coming, some secret guilt about the very ordinary things that we do, and then he'll reach out his hand and very gracefully dip his hand and fish though the water, waving it from side to side, conducting the worms in some underwater requiem. From my chair, I imagine that all of the worms are dead. I imagine the man's hand leading their ghosts in some tender melody, like young deer in green woods. They sound like happy eunuchs. You can tell from their voices just how happy they are to sing, now that their mouths aren't full of dirt.

you needed a cherry pie and so you ordered one

mama spooks had to throw out the old processor because it began inventing new colors. individuals sending smells as attachments. pal derby walking in circles chanting “the stoned guardian angel flowers on.” man. another day another world. cobweb killer my throat is the enemy of 40 nude baristas. london brother your hair is covering the mantras of tuesday acorns. la-doo. crumbling band-aid brain winds up discovering the pixelated beaches of californ-aye-ay. klingon secretary for short times my evening blossoms toward you. doo-la-lee. lily trundled to the best spot we got we got the best spot we got. billiard bubba blow my french silk balls when you can. “politely,” i plea; “politely,” i plea. apply leeway safely to the lever that struggles you up without failing. porta potty princess my lisp welcomes you home. yes my vest vexes me. minty monday leavin’ it up to drew barrymore. winter of suckitup monuments. lit candied drugs you errored there. live me again and again. song to song freed me into a good time with a real brother man tomorrow i will scoop the grass all finger-fed green. everyone in jumanji had hazel eyes. eradicate this indecision silas of the sovereign hills. who said to me “cherry pie grave digs the most ludicrous appetites.” minion of the yellow river you want it and you want it gone. i do things, making a simple offering. simplicity is blue, you know. it rains in front of me sometimes. surround sound meteor. pour me a churning rhythm over that plangent little sock. frocked we run amok. who cares to take stock anymore. keep on whispering “someone’s gotta do it.” see where that gets ya. the jubilee man frowns in yesterday time. nantucket! i knew i put my...yes the million machine. landis port sings in swims of softly gauze. no one knows what to do when the blue whale chirps. god tried to make a world in my stomach. gods do that. sometimes you prescribe a certain amount of staring to your routine. rudy farmweather samurais himself into the oblivion of just one good night, finally. reggae bobs and apple blossoms. until now there has never been mouse clicking in the persian islands. crestfallen lithium froth wave storming into the empty denny’s demanding pink lemonade. i won’t be serving my purpose until i create children.

>>9424235
FLIP/FLOP. orange peels in profile descending under starlit ufo’s. morbid jungians tessellate a game or two before losing their bodies in a bet with horus. blanket statement puzzle gaming into the silvery mist that befuddles the pathologers. mondo filming grey bricks because why not. okay look. there are a few dynasties left in the bucket. what i’m going to do is take one out, soak it in warm butter throw it down the bowling alley. is that okay with everyone? i’ve announced what i am going to do and i plan on doing it okay? i’m doing it now. alright alright. calm down. this is what you wanted. yes. i still need you.

>>9423009
Harrison Bergeron was good, but I didn't like his novels.
I was also very young when I read HB, so I don't know if I'd still like it.

One good book.

>>9423009
Good YA writer

doctor faustus
the loser
the unconsoled
kreutzer sonata
the awakening

The Piano Teacher.

>>9422991
Harold C. Schoenberg "Lives of the great pianists" is a beautiful, accurate and fluid collection pf biographies of the most influential pianists in history, with a basic but still revealing emphasis on their technique and pianistic ideas/aesthetics.

19th century no contest

There is no objective greatness by which one can elect a century of superior literature. The works of the 19th century were recognized by the people of the 19th century and onwards, but the works of the 20th century could only be recognized by those living in the 20th century, onwards. By that measure, you might say the literature of the 19th century has had more time to be regarded as the pinnacle of literature, but this does not mean that it is better by degrees.

>>9422947
20th century, how is this a question

Imagism was a rebellion against romantisism as romantisism was a rebellion against enlightenment.
Imagists replaced superfluous, abstract and emotional terms with concrete, precise and direct details.
The romantics used traditional poetic forms while the imagists experimented with form.

>>9422946
why did he give up on imagism later in his life? I'm halfway through his cantos, and while there are occasional flashes of imagism, most of it just seems like historical rambling. Still the most beautiful writing I have read, though (some of it).

>>9424411
gave up isn't quite the right word, imagism is really hard to get down properly (as opposed to something like expressionism) that was constatnly in flux with figures such as Pound and Yates in the mix.

I'll post something I posed the last time i saw a pound thread:

Pound is probably one of the most powerful forces in 20th century literature. Virtually everyone associated with modernism--and I use this word here sort of vaguely to also include more subtle precursors to modernism as well as works that can be fit into a narrative of 'modernity' even if they are not traditionally 'modernistic' persay--was associated with Pound in some way. The main issue with approaching his work is that I feel it is necessary to have at least a basic understanding of his philosophy in order to see exactly what his poetry is trying to accomplish. This is in contrast to figures such as Eliot, who although still having dense allusive qualities (or intertextual? I've seen that this word has been more popular as critics try more and more to divorce the author from the text) is also distinctly more accessible than segments of the Cantos. There are however many deserving parts that are devastating all on their own though:


But a part of himself talked to himself
and not to its center
and his shade grew grayer
Until another note of the scale
came from the hollow emptiness"

(Cantos LXXII)

The seminal piece on untangling all the imagistic/vorticist elements of modernism would be Kenner's "The Pound Era" which is an interesting book in that it's a very personable book (Kenner had a pretty great relationship with Pound and he has a way of showing his analysis almost as if he's delivering an opinion). Kenner is also great just for really trying to rip apart the Cantos and it'll start you on the right track as far as sources are concerned. Other books that come to mind are Bradbury and McFarlane's little compilation of Modernistic essays; they work well as a companion piece to some of the more canonical or central works of criticism, of which I would recommend getting a collection of Pound's essays. Soon you'll start to see how despite it's experimental nature, there is a very distinct feeling or gestalt or whatever underlying early 20th century thought. This also connects to concepts such as Russian futurism--which is deeply interwoven with marxist utopianism (which is implies that there is any utopianism idealism that isn't Marxist, a claim I'm a little skeptical of) as well as German expressionism, which is sort of another useless term but does have at least some connection to Romantic aestheticism/humanism. I'm rambling now but if anyone has any questions that I might be able to answer shoot away

>>9422691

Richard Bachman > Stephen King

Bachman actually has a good focus on a nice fast-paced thrilling plot while King writes about his characters drinking and reminiscing about the 50s for 300 pages until something spooky finally happens.

>>9422691
We don't consider him a meme, we consider him a shitty writer.

>>9422691
how the fuck does he sell this book's premise? it seems so dumb if it's played completely straight-faced

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Maex3jW0Yw8

>>9422675
Well, Zizek is a vegetarian, so keep that in mind, this colors his moral view of the animal industry.

But Zizek does believe in Morality. Check out his book Radical Evil, where he and some other offers try to offer non-mystical notions of Evil.

It isn't a black and white choice between Scientific Materialist Amoralism and Theist Morality, there are plenty of other positions out there.

>>9422675

1. Producing meat is polluting
2. You won't reincarnate in a human body if you eat meat according to Pythagoras

That's all I need to know

They're terrible once the novelty of the main character wears off. Meh.

Games have better writing. Especially third. Books are just wish fulfillment with unexplored themes CD Projekt picked up on and developed.
Just play on easy

sure why not. the game designers got some architectural award for the main town.

I read "The anatomy of fascism". People told me I should go to the source however.
I suppose you could start with the book above and after that go to the sources of fascist thought.

>>9422590
>>9422596


why don't you take it to the source? here's a /pol/ thread on the same subject. If anything, you'll at least get some serious recommendations

>>>/pol/122604926