Status Updates From Derrubar Árvores - uma irri...

Tried to return this to the library cuz I reached maximum overdue and I need to get a copy of Tess of the d’urbervilles for book club but the library was closed so now I’m reading this alone at the bar at 5pm and giving off kind of an offputting vibe. So far I’m like this is just like Proust but we’ll see

Buch leider in Berlin verloren - bis ich ein neues Exemplar finde erstmal Pause

“People like Joana kill themselves, I thought, sitting in the wing chair, while parasites and society apes like the Auersbergers live on and on and on, getting older and older and older, boring themselves out of their minds all their lives and remaining utterly futile.”

“the blame lay with the Auersbergers lurking in the background, who every year persuade their obliging uncle to sell off one or two of the remaining plots so that they can go on leading their more or less futile social life without having to lift a finger, I thought as I sat in the wing chair. Perfidious society masturbators-what an apt description!”

“What depressed me was not so much the fact that Joana was being buried as that the only people who followed her coffin were artistic corpses, failures, Viennese failures, the living dead of the artistic world-writers, painters, dancers and hangers-on, artistic cadavers not yet quite dead, who looked utterly grotesque in the pelting rain…”