Matthew Boylan > Recent Status Updates

Taking my time with this, but absolutely worth it. Debauched, perverse, but poignant!!!!

In addition to remembering things that one does not know how one remembers, one would also appear to remember things that one has no idea how one knew to begin with.

Yes I am reading ten books at once because I am neurotic

"Perhaps certain life may lack consciousness but may still be awake."

"If much in the world were mystery the limits of that world were not, for it
was without measure or bound and there were contained within it creatures more
horrible yet and men of other colors and beings which no man has looked upon and yet
not alien none of it more than were their own hearts alien in them, whatever wilderness
contained there and whatever beasts."

Doing my 3rd read via audiobook/physical this time

no but what is going on

Probably the most insane first 80 pages I've read of any book ever. Wtf

Of what would you repent?
Nothing.
Nothing?
One thing. I spoke with bitterness about my life and I said that I would take my own part against the slander of oblivion and against the monstrous facelessness of it and that I would stand a stone in the very void where all would read my name. Of that vanity I recant all.

Suttree felt the terror coming through the walls. He was seized with a thing he’d never known, a sudden understanding of the mathematical certainty of death. He felt his heart pumping down there under the palm of his hand. Who tells it so? Could a whole man not author his own death with a thought? Shut down the ventricle like the closing of an eye?

Hot oil ran on the stones. The wick toppled and dropped with a thin hiss and dark closed over him so absolute that he became without boundary to himself, as large as all the universe and small as anything that was.

No bones, no dust. How surely are the dead beyond death. Death is what the living carry with them. A state of dread, like some uncanny foretaste of a bitter memory. But the dead do not remember and nothingness is not a curse. Far from it.

She was instantly asleep, the blind eye half open like a drowsing cats, her mouth agape. Toes peered from the mules like little clusters of dark mice. On her broad face two intersecting circles, fairy ring or hagstrack, the crescent welts of flesh like a sacerdotal brand on some stone age matriarch. Annular treponema. Read here why he falls in the streets. Another Jena, another time."

Grateful to be reading & reviewing this for an upcoming publication!

The traveler had seized his fingers in his jaws, but it was not alone this horror that he cried. Beyond the flayed man dimly adumbrate another figure paled, for his surgeons move about the world even as you and I.

bruh

"They went along the row of the melonpatch [..]


"Somebody has been fuckin my watermelons."

It's been 30 pages and I've already saved a quote from nearly every page.

"Eyes resting. This hushed and mazy sunday. The heart beneath the breastbone pumping. The blood on its appointed rounds. Life in small places, narrow crannies. In the leaves, the toads pulse. The delicate cellular warfare in a water drop. A dextrocardiac, said The smiling doctor. Your heart's in the right place. Weather shrunk and Loveless."

The more I read about Greek antiquity the more I believe it was the pinnacle of civilization