Fishscale/V/: New.Entry-Transmission.Whatever.Wetnightmares. Screamscapes.and.corporal.malfunctions//The movie theater has gone dim. The Kodak camera has lost its reel. The Mall is shuttered. The video store is closed. The soundtrack plays on the tape deck, scrambled. The Pyrex takes a nap for the evening. The national anthem plays after dusk
Lispector’s G.H. wants to convey the excavated neutrality of l(ov/if)e to her everyday existence. She craves to terraform her day-to-day mode of being into a new one
The Panda Theory by Pascal Garnier, is one of these novels which you can only read once, just like Iain Reid’s I’m thinking of ending things, yet it perches on the opposite side of the concept-inducing spectrum.
Nijinsky’s diary, the result of a six-week outburst of writing, at first glance grants us once in a lifetime opportunity to witness a descent into madness of a genuinely brilliant mind.
They say, it took Chauncey ninety-three seconds to decide whether or not to help that homeless man; ninety-three seconds to decide and one minute to act on that decision. It’s funny what people do under pressure, when serendipity opens up her sweaty legs and puts
I admitted two weeks ago that I am a movie buff light. So it’s pretty obvious how my light movie buffness became awestruck, completely ineffable as a matter of fact, when I turned over the last page of Notes on Cinematography.
Some novels are extremely approachable yet highly uncooperative. They welcome you with open arms only to dodge, duck, and finally flee from your reading embrace afterwards, snapping their vicious jaws of avoidance, simpering slyly. J. G. Ballard’s Crash is one of them.
The Dreamers takes place in Paris in a turbulent spring of 1968. Ahhh, the late 60’s – the last epoch of human naivety, its last caprice of innocence.
Vian’s best known work is the finest example of what does it mean for a novel to confirm that something exists without neither material nor spiritual proof
Ambulance races by. Midnight_Hainesville. Alone in my room. Falling down. Confused. Disjointed.out-of-focus. Forgetting faces. Forgetting periods, forging distractions and falling in and out of dreaming. The complications and implications reseeding and echoing on the mind with every second dripping into unconsciousness. I was alone in
Days made of verbs and nouns. You have turned into Verbman, a Noun monster. No qualities – just doing, listing, discerning without acknowledging.
Around the corner, moments before Chauncey was Hit by that car. Jimmy was just entering his tenement building. "Late night coming home from a temp job for some automotive corporation. I was expecting the usual greeting and shaking of the hands with every graveyard shift