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Mmmmmmmoué

What am I reading ?

in the end, any space, any stain, any presence will disappear and the world will reduce to an infinite, unified block, reconciled within its enigma by a gentle atrocity

4D

It’s aight

hmm

179-226(?) à relire, c’est la ou Proust commence a expliquer son point vue final de l’art et le rôle de l’écrivain comme traducteur

M De Charlus really the main character in this one

The beginning has something cool going on , grey ashen n vague etc. but no light, just words and story and some hints of a feeling I guess. hyper “American”. Recommend to your favorite cowboy

🇺🇸

hmm

There’s so much “STYLE” it’s hard to read

Wtffff…..

The other half is totally so good.

A lot better , maybe I’ve just got in the books momentum , but the last half is written more like what it is and not trying to be something else

“How does it feel to hold a literature of sand in one’s hands ?” Popov n pork chops , etc , it’s getting better

“Methamphetamine is a loving woman who whispers in your ear as she twists a knife in your back “ 🥴🤒

It’s better so far. But I dunno I need more info or context on the book, it’s auto fiction ? It’s really his life or is all this totally made up? Some parts are not obviously Poetic and then some parts feel Too Much So Poetic. The line “making appointments , cataloguing furniture” thats absolutely 💯, but shit like “I opened my tiny mouth and large words came out “ draw to much attention to style.

This is kinda hard to read. It’s very sad so far with little Light, just seems like the narrator had a shhitty life (?) like the part where he drink rum with sculptor isn’t witten in any different way than anything else. Like he doesn’t appreciate those moments ? so far it’s a difficult read but I’ll keep going. ❤️‍🩹

What the hell am I reading ? Lol

remember thou art dust

Le salon de de mme de valleparisis

rachel quand du seigneur

the twitter of the birds...