Many of these pieces have appeared in other forms -- I have them as zines, I have them collected together in other volumes. But this was intended to bring definitive form and closure to a decade of seeking and it feels like it. Words and images have been elegantly tweaked since past appearances, each piece creates a thematic bleed with what comes before and after, structures vary and echo to carve out a narrative space that wholly belongs to Kitchell by this point, death and desire spin like planets, and all builds into a logical/irrational conflagatory holism of form and content with the culminating, never-published novella Hotel, which I've been waiting for since 2012 or so. Now we have it. Towers rise and fall, the field burns to scorched level ground. Endless in-coiling layers are released into pure possibility. And what, possibly, can come after?
Pieces of flesh pieces of soul pieces of self pieces not so whole. Visionary. Densely packed. Gorgeously laid out and projected and wills one to take flight through literary-asphyxiation-cum-cut-up-cum-gay-queer-fiction-cum-flight-messiah-confusion-of a sexual heightened protrusion. M. Kitchell is like white noise grown subconsciously static grown obsessive grown incantational grown genetically tied to reader, relationship, inter existentialist ideals and preoccupations and delivers a fantastic, addictive, jittery, gritty sex odyssey into a plane one can only say he and ITC can lay claim to generating and ultimately creating. Rare genius.
You may not fully understand it, but do we really need to? Takes away the repercussions of repetition upon repetition upon repetition upon ritualistic incantatory narrator-ly visual conscious papyrus ink spillage drug non drug no need to touch drug induced hallucinatory heightened transmission failed transmission mutated deity wrong gone wrong doing long form of masterful anti-prose and the imbuement and senses you are offered and hare not to feel get into you as a reader and an ingestor.
Dense, intense, brilliant. Oddly the shock of the novel wears off quickly and you become immersed in the philosophical musings as the author ruminates on the metaphysics of objects, space, time, narratives, and semiotics. I took this book everywhere and savored it, I will probably buy another copy that I will take better care of, and continue re-reading this copy over the years.
Hard to recommend and describe, but unforgettable and I wish I could inspire more people to read it.
The last decade saw the emergence of the most exciting new wave of experimental fiction I can remember seeing in my lifetime, and here is another important work, gay experimental horror porn from one of our most gifted practitioners.