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
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.
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.
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