quote:

According to a labyrinthine hierarchical chart that resembled several thick snakes loving one another, the Southern Reach was under the army's jurisdiction here, which might be why the Southern Reach facility, closed down between expeditions, looked a bit like a row of large tents that had been made of lemon meringue. Which is to say, it looked like any number of the churches Control had become familiar with in his teenage years, usually because of whatever girl he was dating. The calcification of revivalists and born-agains often took this form: as of something temporary that had hardened and become permanent. And thus it was either a series of white permafrost tents that greeted them or the white swell of huge waves, frozen forever. The sight was as out of place and startling as if the facility had resembled a fossilized herd of huge MoonPies, a delicacy of those youthful years.

Djeser posted:

a labyrinthine hierarchical chart that resembled several thick snakes loving one another

Djeser posted:

Mel Mudkiper posted:

this is why you should always eat before writing

quote:

The city had converted an elevated length of abandoned railway spur into an aerial greenway and the agent and I were walking south along it in the unseasonable warmth after an outrageously expensive celebratory meal in Chelsea that included baby octopuses the chef had literally massaged to death. We had ingested the impossibly tender things entire, the first intact head I had ever consumed, let alone of an animal that decorates its lair, has been observed at complicated play. We walked south among the dimly gleaming disused rails and carefully placed stands of sumac and smoke bush until we reached that part of the High Line where a cut has been made into the deck and wooden steps descend several layers below the structure; the lowest level is fitted with upright windows overlooking Tenth Avenue to form a kind of amphitheatre where you can sit and watch the traffic. We sat and watched the traffic and I am kidding and I am not kidding when I say that I intuited an alien intelligence, felt subject to a succession of images, sensations, memories, and affects that did not, properly speaking, belong to me: the ability to perceive polarized light; a conflation of taste and touch as salt was rubbed into the suction cups; a terror localized in my extremities, bypassing the brain completely.

suspendedreason posted:

Since Ben Lerner got such a raise outta folks in another thread, and I'm convinced he's one of the best prose writers of our generation, the first page of 10:04 for discussion:

suspendedreason posted:

Since Ben Lerner got such a raise outta folks in another thread, and I'm convinced he's one of the best prose writers of our generation, the first page of 10:04 for discussion:

suspendedreason posted:

Since Ben Lerner got such a raise outta folks in another thread, and I'm convinced he's one of the best prose writers of our generation, the first page of 10:04 for discussion:

suspendedreason posted:

Since Ben Lerner got such a raise outta folks in another thread, and I'm convinced he's one of the best prose writers of our generation, the first page of 10:04 for discussion:

A human heart posted:

Editor's note: by our generation, he is referring specifically to contemporary American writers

quote:

The city had converted an elevated length of abandoned railway spur into an aerial greenway and the agent and I were walking south along it in the unseasonable warmth after an outrageously expensive celebratory meal in Chelsea that included baby octopuses the chef had literally massaged to death. We had ingested the impossibly tender things entire, the first intact head I had ever consumed, let alone of an animal that decorates its lair, has been observed at complicated play. We walked south among the dimly gleaming disused rails and carefully placed stands of sumac and smoke bush until we reached that part of the High Line where a cut has been made into the deck and wooden steps descend several layers below the structure; the lowest level is fitted with upright windows overlooking Tenth Avenue to form a kind of amphitheatre where you can sit and watch the traffic. We sat and watched the traffic and I am kidding and I am not kidding when I say that I intuited an alien intelligence, felt subject to a succession of images, sensations, memories, and affects that did not, properly speaking, belong to me: the ability to perceive polarized light; a conflation of taste and touch as salt was rubbed into the suction cups; a terror localized in my extremities, bypassing the brain completely.

Mel Mudkiper posted:

Ben Lerner loving sucks

He once described crying as "a lacrimal event"

suspendedreason posted:

Since Ben Lerner got such a raise outta folks in another thread, and I'm convinced he's one of the best prose writers of our generation, the first page of 10:04 for discussion:

quote:

We had ingested the impossibly tender things entire, the first intact head I had ever consumed, let alone of an animal that decorates its lair, has been observed at complicated play.

Mel Mudkiper posted:

Ben Lerner loving sucks

He once described crying as "a lacrimal event"

Sham bam bamina! posted:

I am kidding and I am not kidding when I say that I want to physically harm this man, provoke such an occurrence.

Sleng Teng posted:

The_White_Crane posted:

I think it's dreadful. The sentences are vastly too long. This one:

is absolutely execrable. Using "entire" as a synonym for "whole" in that context may not be technically incorrect, but it sounds wrong regardless.
The choice to join the third and fourth phrases with just a comma rather than an "and" leads to the potential reading that "the first intact head I had ever consumed" is what "has been observed at complicated play".

Sleng Teng posted:

Sleng Teng posted:

J_RBG posted:

In that passage I really cringed at 'dimly gleaming'. It could work in a different context (like most prose sins), but something about how it's tossed in there makes it sound like as if it's only in there because Lerner thinks it sounds nice, not because it does something. As it stands the effect is: there's an oxymoron that sounds weird ... and then we move on. It's a weird approach, like just throwing stuff at a wall and seeing if it sticks.

J_RBG posted:

it sound like as if it's only in there because Lerner thinks it sounds nice, not because it does something.

Mel Mudkiper posted:

Ben Lerner loving sucks

He once described crying as "a lacrimal event"

Franchescanado posted:

The agent and I walked along a greenway that had been converted from an abandoned railway. The weather was warm. We had just eaten an expensive meal of baby octopuses. I ate the baby octopuses whole, which is weird if you consider their intelligence. We went down some stairs and watched Tenth Avenue traffic through upright windows. My body felt strange, like the octopuses gave me heightened senses, which worried me.

That's really all that's happening in that section, and I don't think the verbosity elevates it.

J_RBG posted:

In that passage I really cringed at 'dimly gleaming'. It could work in a different context (like most prose sins), but something about how it's tossed in there makes it sound like as if it's only in there because Lerner thinks it sounds nice, not because it does something. As it stands the effect is: there's an oxymoron that sounds weird ... and then we move on. It's a weird approach, like just throwing stuff at a wall and seeing if it sticks.