No Poem Is the Only Poem. No Story Is the Only Story.
Now his sister comes back to the car. She has been in the cheese shop by herself buying cheese while they wait outside in the car. She loves cheese. Sometimes she says she will run away and join a cheese cult, but that’s just a joke. She is ten and knows almost everything.
In quite a lot of books, the narrator is a camera; he just observes and let other characters do the entertaining heavy lifting. I wanted to have a Nathan Zuckerman-kinda protagonist, who sets out and does all kinds of stupid stuff himself, is funny, is weird, is misguided, is in his way quite brave and adventurous. He does a lot of things I would not dare to do myself.
As the scholars of The Republic delve into Hitler studies, the specialized branches of research sprout increasingly weird. How about a specialty in Hitlerian pornography, or the sub-trend of Chilean naming of their sons “Hitler”, and how about a trip to Chile to interview them? Or a study of a fashion in Hitler moustaches?
How much one can learn from inebriates! Lonely in the city of my birth, that kissing monster from adolescence plays lip roulette again, then vanishes into the dark.
I can’t explain to you how miserable I find this place, which pretty much suits where I’m at—I’m just a worn out, middle-aged cop with nothing better to do than drink myself stupid.
To scratch is to admit feeling,fingernails peeling, revealing sensation that no Zeno or Kant,Hegel or Lacan can recant,