Clavain

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Laurus
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Bury My Heart at ...
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La nausée
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J.M. Coetzee
“I was all a mistake! There was a black fish swimming among all those white fish and that black fish was chosen to be me. I was a sister to none of them, I was ill chance itself, I was a shark, an infant black shark. Why did you not recognize it and cut its throat? What kind of merciful father were you who never cared for me but sent me out into the world a monster? Crush me, devour me, annihilate me before it is too late! Wipe me clean...”
J.M. Coetzee

John Darnielle
“A CAVE I will never, ever get out of, you said: your exact words. A cave that probably has other people in it, maybe a lot of them, and sometimes you think you can hear them around you or behind you or ahead of you, talking, crying, pounding on the walls, but you can’t be sure because the pain is making you crazy, and to be crazy is to have more noises in your head than usual. A cave that can disguise itself as a morgue, or a coroner’s office, or a courtroom, or a bedroom, or the bathroom, you said: a cave you carry around with you like a chair you have to sit in wherever you go, and, to everybody else, it just looks like a normal chair, but to you it’s the top of a slide, and every time you sit down on it you head down into the depths.”
John Darnielle, Devil House
tags: grief

Kathy Acker
“Since her words have to be dead words, I only mumble back. I live in my own world of playgrounds trees animals books. I will never be intruded upon again. Or touched again. In the distance here, the river of my adoration flows long dull murky, all the way to the right and light. Lambs bleat on either side. Outside the icy air hardly impresses my flesh, for inside I'm all dissatisfactions. A cell-like shell bottles up the dissatisfactions.
'Unable to know any outside, I don't know where I am. Here's a red brick building. Here's a low, dullish brown brick edifice. Beyond's my river. Nothing's real because nothing has meaning for me because no one's touching me. No one tells me what means what. There's no schooling here. Where there's no language, there's no reality.
'This,' explained the dog, 'is why my heart is breaking.
'Cold. Wet. Dead. Low moors sitting over hidden rivers. Earth so heavy it could sink and is, into its lower geographical stratum of mud. Human heaviness heavier than death.”
Kathy Acker, Don Quixote

Sven Holm
“We gaze at the dark mass, where buildings, streets, trees, hordes of people, wide stretches of country with farms and herds of cattle are set solid like flies in amber; a hand has gripped a bottle of beer and one can no longer tell the difference between the hand and the bottle; one face has turned to another and the two faces are forever grafted together; two outstretched arms are ready to hold the child that is running towards them and the child is ready to run to the outstretched arms; a kitchen knife is stuck in the middle of the loaf, even though the person holding the knife had thought through to the end of the slice; water streams out of the taps and the cars are piled up in the streets and nothing of this can be changed; the world has spun full circle and the survivors must exist without it.”
Sven Holm

Julia Armfield
“The deep sea is a haunted house: a place in which things that ought not to exist move about in the darkness.”
Julia Armfield, Our Wives Under the Sea

year in books
Izzie
3,984 books | 494 friends

Daniel ...
118 books | 4 friends

Alice
33 books | 1 friend

Julian
454 books | 6 friends

Che
Che
68 books | 3 friends


The White People by Arthur MachenThe Twenty Days of Turin by Giorgio De MariaThe Willows by Algernon BlackwoodThe House on the Borderland by William Hope HodgsonTitus Groan by Mervyn Peake
Pre-1980 Weird Fiction
22 books — 8 voters




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