Death . . . And Now You

Novels Institutionalize The Ruse Of Eros. It Becomes A Narrative Texture Of Sustained Incongruence, Emotional And Cognitive. It Permits The Reader To Stand In Triangular Relation To The Characters In The Story And Reach Into The Text After The Objects Of Their Desire, Sharing Their Longing But Also Detached From It, Seeing Their View Of Reality But Also Its Mistakenness. It Is Almost Like Being In Love.

You Can Get Used To Eating Breakfast With A Man In A Fedora. You Can Get Used To Anything, My Mother Was In The Habit Of Saying.

Sometimes I Dream A Sentence And Write It Down. It’s Usually Nonsense, But Sometimes It Seems A Key To Another World.

All Myth Is An Enriched Pattern, A Two-faced Proposition, Allowing Its Operator To Say One Thing And Mean Another, To Lead A Double Life.

The Self Forms At The Edge Of Desire, And A Science Of Self Arises In The Effort To Leave That Self Behind.