Clark Theriot > Recent Status Updates

I’d read the stories I wanted to, so I then returned it to the library, shortly after.

Im going to give Melville a break until I give him another chance. I took my time and read the novella: Benito Cereno. The story unfolds quickly into a mystery of what the American from the year 1799 is guessing back and forth on what is genuine and what isn’t.? That is the complete plot. We learn the ignorance of the white American sailor throughout, taken in by many telling acts by the Spanish Captain. ***

Those dog boxes, like that one there, were modelled on the real live creatures, her mother says. And furthermore. After the real live creatures died they would sometimes be stuffed by taxidermist and then placed back in the station or wherever, whichever public place they'd spent their working lives in. So you'd go to the station and there'd be Nip sitting there, or Rex, Bob, dead, stuffed, but...

Of course, this is only a beautiful surrealist painting the author has created with words.

Why am I just learning about this author now! I'll read this novel again, right after when I finish. It moves easily from one page to the next.

"Anonymous people start to add tweet-sized comments about Daniel beneath Daniel. They are commenting on his ability be to change things.
The comments get more and more unpleasant.
They start to make a sound like a hornet mass and Elisabeth notices that what looks like liquid excrement is spreading very close to her bare feet. She tries not to step in any of it.
She calls to Daniel to watch where he steps"

"Of course, no one in Sofiowka called it Sofiowka. Until it had such a disagreeable official name, no one felt the need to call it anything. But now that there was an offense—that the shtetl should be that shithead's namesake—the citizens had a name *not to go by. Some even called the shtetl Not-Sofiowka, and would continue to even after a be new name was chosen."

I’m not a fan, respect yes. But it’s hard for his work to keep my attention.

I’m not a fan, respect yes. But it’s hard for his work to keep my attention.

I began reading this earlier today. I have to stop for a second and mention page 38. The bottom paragraph. From the information given on page 39, how would the narrator or anyone know: “O’Leary went directly to his kitchen table (who saw this the ghost?), where he sat for just over and hour (who timed this?) and now composed the now-infamous, rambling, handwritten letter...it goes on to other impossibly known.

I didn’t think I would enjoy the content of suburbia life. But the author kept me going from one story to the next, slowly, there is a lot of meaning in all of the stories. To read them quickly, I believe is to miss how gracefully Curtis Sittenfeld takes the reader through intricate threads of modern life. If that isn’t enough for the reader she has mastered a story’s turn of events. I recommend.

I’d started to read Carl Jung’s work archetypal and the Collective Unconscious, but after reading part (dope) I quit that, he had problems. Now I’m enjoying most of these collected stories. I’ve read it before—The Prairie wife. “Her Twitter handle is not her name but “Minneap” plus the last three digits of her zip code, and instead of uploading a photo of herself, she’s kept the generic egg avatar.” Gets better.

I am enjoying this like someone enjoys the taste of their favorite cake or other dish. The insight on Kafka's life gives me with a limitless impression.
In an argument with his father the father says, "So don't bother me with talk like that." And Kafka replied: " I'm trying to hold myself back." And the narrator goes on to say, "However, Kafka did not hold back..." page 69.

Not into these.

Thank you, John Updike, finally the strongest character has proceeded—Janice says speaking efficiently as a newscaster, "that was Pru. Your father's had a heart attack. They've taken him to the hospital. They're coming right back so I can have the car [one car in the family moment]. No point in your coming, he isn't allowed any visitors except me, and then for only five minutes every hour. He is in intensive care."

Thank you, John Updike, finally the strongest character has proceeded—Janice says speaking efficiently as a newscaster, "that was Pru. Your father's had a heart attack. They've taken him to the hospital. They're coming right back so I can have the car [one car in the family moment]. No point in your coming, he isn't allowed any visitors except me, and then for only five minutes every hour. He is in intensive care."

"His remarks makes the child's tears spill, out through the curved lashes onto her cheeks like the silvery jerking tracks rain makes on windowpanes."
The command of a beautiful sentence is the only reason I continue to read. I don't enjoy the story. The unlikable characters make this a difficult read for me.