Rubinstein succeeds in arranging his fragmented text in such a clever way that they invariably trigger off a series of associations, even in the reader who fails to catch all the allusions weaved in by the author. Thus his texts begin to speak to any reader anywhere and in any language, but they speak in a different way.
You could read this book on a slow day at work because your colleague left it behind
You might decide that her avant-gard taste in literature makes her cooler than you or that she is a smelly hipster
A fleeting reference to 'sticky leaves in spring' can favor you slightly because you love Ivan Karamazov
At one point the performance-art index card business took a break and there was actually a highly enlightening and utterly entertaining bit about communal living. It outlined the archetypes of people who would inevitably end up sharing a house and, while uniquely Soviet, it was also relatable to anyone who has ever walked the dark path of shared accommodation. May I stress again, it was hilarious. I don't think Russians get enough credit for their sense of humor. Anyway, it ended pretty quick and it was back to the flashcards.
It is possible to spend days reading meaning into every phrase but you won't because you are at work and not a smelly hipster
Tässä olen minä on runokirja, joka ei ole kirja. Tai ehkä onkin. Se on kokoelma pahvisille kirjaston korteille kirjoitettuja "runoja", jotka muistuttavat valokuva-albumin kuvien selityksiä ja näyttämöohjeita. Haluaisin tehdä tälle "kirjalle" paljon. Haluan "lukea" sitä yhä uudestaan. Tahtoisin liimata jokaiseen korttiin jonkin vaikkapa lehdestä leikatun kuvan, joka esittäisi kortin "runoa". Toisaalta haluaisin piirtää kortit täyteen tai liimata niihin kuvia, joilla ei ole mitään tekemistä "runojen" kanssa. Tämä "kirja" saa haluamaan paljon.