"The voice is still full of the old duress, but it avoids formality with a desolate glee: it is improvisatory and throwaway as though happening in real time, syntactically unkempt, peremptorily colloquial, heedlessly disinclined to spell things out, at times sourly hilarious, irascible, often exasperated. "
via THE LONDON REVIEW OF BOOKS |
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“As the excerpt from 'Ferrum' begins, the desire to read is baffled. What is all our f? What is ht fad? The pages offer no visual clues, no eye-rhythms for mind to follow, but the eye goes to work, gradually witnessing an emergence of image and narrative from chaos. We can rewrite the text, if we need to; it’s there to be found: and their fall our fall it was a bull market for guineas and for guinea negroes a bet in hope night fades to day day to night her dugs hang sacks of dry fear. What would we lose by this?" |
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