Archived threads in /lit/ - Literature - 3036. page

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Are they well written for children's/YA books?

I haven't read them since I was a baby

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How can I be more like this guy?

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Fuck my life.
What's your motivation, /lit/?
What makes you lose your fear of death?
>Pic unrelated

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Any spooky books that read YOU?

>pic unrelated

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Why should we read this man? Aren't all his theories bunk?

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Before anything let me say that english isn't my 1st language, so this will probably be filled with mistakes but I think this is the best place to talk about this subject so here we go

I want to know, in your opinion, what makes a decent discussion about books? I mean, what kind of points really matter when talking (or writting) about a work?

See, imho, talking about the story should be a small part of what makes a good digest, I like when the focus is more on personal views about certains aspects of the work, like character/world/atmosphere building and points of irony/contradiction that deserves attention, so is talking about the style/form of the writting. Quoting good/bad passages and talking about why you think they are good/bad is also a must but how important is to talk about how influential the author is, or how he was influenced? This seens like the kind of information that shouldn't really be the focus in most cases, because these, most of the time, will be just copy-paste of wikipedia or a teacher's class.

I hope I'm being clear, basically I want to know what makes you to like a review? Objective information or subjective analysis? What elements are a must so a review isn't considered inane/vapid?

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Apparently it's a common thing for readers to lie and say they've read books they haven't read, but does anyone lie and say they've never read books they have read?

I do this a lot because I'm pretty stupid and don't know how to get original ideas from books and stuff, so I always embarass myself when I talk about books because I don't know how to discuss them and sometimes I get things wrong and it seems like everyone is 10 times better at discussing books than me.

It's more preferable that I just say I haven't read a certain book and have them think me a simple pleb than if I say I have read the book, talk about it like an idiot, and then they think I'm a try-hard pseud.

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has anyone read this yet? I put it on my syllabus for my ind. study this fall.

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Has anyone have read "The Complete Manual of Suicide" in english translation? I'm curious about this book but I can not find it anywhere.

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Why are there so few authors of note?

For postmodernism in America there was only Pynchon, Gaddis, Foster Wallace. Then lesser (crummy) ones like Delillo. If i'm being generous there are 9 postmodern American authors total, most of them shit. Why are there so few?

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Have you read any Calvino?

I've recently finished Invisible Cities and the Complete Cosmicomics. I'm reading some other stuff before reading If on a Winter's Night a Traveller because although I love his work so far his style is something which I need a break from.

Anyway, have you any particular favourite city from IC or a favourite story from Cosmicomics? Any views on some meanings or anything like that? I'm just interested in discussing this guy.

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John Green did not make a single appearance among the finalists for the /lit/ banner. I'm disappointed in you people.

Pynchon's mouth should have won.

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I have been living for over a month in a cabin on the outskirts of Haugesund passed down to my family by my now-deceased grandparents. At first I spent most of my time reading, and then I started to write a novel which I still plan to complete at some point. I have also, as some of you may know, fallen in love with a beautiful and intelligent girl who is at this very moment shopping for tennis rackets in town. Two nights ago, afflicted by a Dostoevskian sense of anomie and despair, I left my cabin late at night and walked through an intense rainstorm through the dark hills nearby, pleading with some powerful force to unburden me from the weight of my intellect and self-awareness, which has lately become so burdensome that I am struggling to appreciate anything in life as compensatory for the suffering and struggle that my sensitivity and heightened state of consciousness imposes.. Little did I expect that my pleading, my prayers even, would be answered. I had reached the summit of a craggy hill from which I could see the distant lights of Haugesund glowing faintly in the distance. I was wearing my long dark overcoat, which I had purchased in a charity store in Oslo before moving here as it appealed to me due to its association, in my mind, with the image of the poverty-stricken artistic genius. This coat was affording me little warmth or comfort however on account of the heavy rain making it damp and heavy. I was pale and shivering, on the verge of the kind of existential crises which served as a precursor no-doubt to the mental collapse of individuals such as Nietzsche and Van Gogh. But then, on my knees in the thick wet earth, my wet hair sticking to my face, tears pouring from my eyes as I contemplated just how much of a Zarathustra-esque figure I must have then appeared, a flash of lightning illuminated the peaks of some distant mountains, and in those few seconds before the thunder that followed, in a moment in which all sound and movement seemed to have ceased entirely, there entered into my mental landscape a vision so overpowering that when it faded away I was left gasping and open-mouthed. What this vision is will remain a secret to me until the work of art it has ushered into being is completed. But what a moment that was in my life. Never before and never again will the fundamental aspects of existence appear so lucid in my mind.

Has anybody else here experienced a sudden idea for a novel so overwhelming and so insistent that you have discarded everything else you were writing in order to dedicated yourself to it entirely?

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Literature can show things film wouldn't dare. Books can get away with so much.

I was reading the first Seekers book and, dang, Tobi's death was awful. I don't know what he died of but he was obviously rotting from the inside out.

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I'm not gonna lie. I hate exclamation points! Even in the Greeks. They're almost as necessary and cringey as adverbs.

Call the /lit/ police, I don't give a flying fuck!