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“It was hard to remember yesterday’s polemic, to determine whether today’s...
Talent was blazing through the columns and onto the coffee tables. The physical-assault metaphor had taken over the reviews. “Guts,” never much of a word outside the hunting season, was a favorite noun...
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“we first became conscious of impurities which hereafter stain literature...
[Sir Thomas Browne] is the first of the autobiographers. Swooping and soaring at the highest altitudes he stoops suddenly with loving particularity upon the details of his own body. His height was...
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But mine, I suspect, or maybe it is merely a hope, is a Midwestern mind
Dear __________, What you say of Oakland, that it feels to you like a “Midwestern city — a great place to pass through on a Greyhound bus,” may be true. Knowing you as I do, that is not so negative an...
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A preliminary sketch of a thesis on what it means to be “Midwestern”
A preliminary sketch of a thesis on what it means to be “Midwestern”: The defiance of cliches is key . . . But so is the fact, and I think it is precisely that, a fact, that the “Midwestern” cannot...
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“Well then, Phaedrus, this is how it was.”
Socrates Well then, Phaedrus, this is how it was. I was walking on the very edge of the sea. I was following an endless shore. . . . This is not a dream I am telling you. I was going I know not...
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music that survives the din of life’s repetitions
Filed under: Correspondence, William Gass
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“know that the earth shall one day set her foot on your necks, and the slime...
There is mortality in that flesh thou so deckest, and that skin which is so bepainted with artificial complexion shall lose the beauty and itself. Detrahetur novissimum velamentum cutis. You that sail...
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“the novels that interest the novelist are those that have not already been...
The great novels we get in the future are not going to be those that the public thinks it wants, or those that critics demand. They are going to be the kind of novels that interest the novelist. And...
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he had many times overs suffered its teeth while in search for its tongue
R. never corrected any of them about the name. As was customary, especially in small churches like this, he had been asked by the board, probably Phil Elkin, if he was married. (“Two for the price of...
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“Can we think a few old cells were left”
I’ve posted several such readings in the past, but this is the first video I’ve attempted to make. It is rough & novice, but I enjoyed it. I hope you do, too. * * * CITIES, by. H.D. Can we...
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“I drive with one hand all night in my sleep.”
I am pretty well now, save for sundry bruises received in driving a certain fair maid over the country with one hand, sometimes, indeed, with no hand at all. But she did not seem to mind my method of...
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There’s never been sort of a trigger moment.
CHIVERS: The United States finds itself in a pretty unenviable position. So did the Syrians. I mean, this war, when you look at it, could not have worse timing. It really couldn’t. It came sort of, if...
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“and so we melt away by drops”
Every thing, every day suffers some eclipse, and nothing stands in a stay, but one Creature calls to another, “Let us leave the World.” Our fathers summoned us, and we shall summon our children to the...
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“A player who would keep all will lose all.”
This is a war of movement, albeit one arrested at times on a static front, as in the case of the defense of a mountain pass or fort. A war in which territory per se is of no interest: the sole concern...
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“a certain blue of the sea is so blue that only blood would be more red.”
– From Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s The Visible and the Invisible Filed under: Maurice Merleau-Ponty
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“there is indeed something to be redeemed, but it has become impossible to...
On the whole, postmodern cultures, despite their fascination with ghouls and vampires, have had little to say of evil. Perhaps this is because the postmodern man or woman — cool, provisional, laid-back...
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“who held him in no particular esteem when he was alive, speak of him rarely...
What an opening! (At long last reading this . . .) William Stoner entered the University of Missouri as a freshman in the year 1910, at the age of nineteen. Eight years later, during the height of...
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a memory misshapen as much by recurrence as by avoidance.
The septic smells of mid-summer at Cincinnati Seminary: where cirrus smoke puffed from the water treatment plant upwind mingled with the indigestive burps of the Victorian-era plumbing below: whose...
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