DEDICATED TO EXPOSING DISINFORMATION AND PROPAGANDA AND TO PROMOTING UNIVERSAL HUMAN RIGHTS - WITH SHARP ANALYSIS AND BLUNT COMMENTARY. NO ADS. NO TIP-JAR. JUST THE TRUTH.
DEDICATED TO EXPOSING DISINFORMATION AND PROPAGANDA AND TO PROMOTING UNIVERSAL HUMAN RIGHTS - WITH SHARP ANALYSIS AND BLUNT COMMENTARY. NO ADS. NO TIP-JAR. JUST THE TRUTH.
2 comments:
"Kafka, unlike your Henry James, was not ordinarily intelligent or discerning. Kafka was a god damned petty clerk who lived a god damned petty life and wrote about it, the dream of it, the madness of it. There is one novel where a man enters this house, this establishment, and it appears that from the viewpoint of others that he is guilty of something but he does not know what. He is shuffled from room to room, endlessly, to the rattle of papers and bureaucracy, a silent simmering horrible living dream of the ordinary mad and pressing, senseless everyday life. Most of his books are on this order: the shadow, the dream, the stupidity. Then there are other things - where a man turns into a bridge and lets people walk across him, where a man turns into a giant cockroach and his sister feeds him as he hides under the bed. Others, others. Kafka is everything. Forget Henry James. James is a light mist of silk. Kafka is what we all know."
Charles Bukowski, "SCREAMS FROM THE BALCONY"
Wow.
Bukowski is a great writer.
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