tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post5768347929481153723..comments2024-03-02T18:14:15.047+05:30Comments on schrodingers bekku: It ws a dark and stormy night....Shenoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-78185072017130019812010-01-25T12:50:45.894+05:302010-01-25T12:50:45.894+05:30Reads like some my dreams or nightmares - disconne...Reads like some my dreams or nightmares - disconnected but strangely interesting as well.Sangahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13521577952964689255noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-27838945004894181212010-01-22T18:28:33.124+05:302010-01-22T18:28:33.124+05:30PART 2
A screaming comes across the sky [Thomas P...PART 2<br /><br />A screaming comes across the sky [Thomas Pynchon, Gravity's Rainbow]. Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. [James Joyce, Ulysses] Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting. [William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury] They shoot the white girl first. [Toni Morrison, Paradise] We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall. [Louise Erdrich, Tracks] The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. [Stephen Crane, The Red Badge of Courage] It was a pleasure to burn. [Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451] I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story. [Edith Wharton, Ethan Frome] <br />Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. [Daphne Du Maurier, Rebecca] Granted: I am an inmate of a mental hospital; my keeper is watching me, he never lets me out of his sight; there's a peephole in the door, and my keeper's eye is the shade of brown that can never see through a blue-eyed type like me. [Gunter Grass, The Tin Drum ] They're out there. Black boys in white suits up before me to commit sex acts in the hall and get it mopped up before I can catch them. [Ken Kesey, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest] It was like so, but wasn't. [Richard Powers, Galatea 2.2] Where now? Who now? When now? [Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable] <br /><br /><br />And the one I wish I had included…slipped my mind. The eternal…..” Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.”Shenoyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680226.post-76575257205578269042010-01-22T18:28:05.933+05:302010-01-22T18:28:05.933+05:30And here’s the key (annotations?)…whatever. The li...And here’s the key (annotations?)…whatever. The lines and books. Here goes:<br />It was a dark and stormy night....[Edward Bulwer-Lytton's Paul Clifford]<br />I have never begun a novel with more misgiving. [Somerset Maugham, The Razor's Edge] If you're going to read this, don’t bother. After a couple pages, you won't want to be here. So forget it. Go away. Get out while you're still in one piece. [Chuck Palahniuk, Choke] I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. [Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle] All this happened, more or less. [Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five]<br /><br />I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974. [Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex] Call me Ishmael. [You better know this one, now] In a sense, I am Jacob Horner. [John Barth, The End of the Road] I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids. [Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man] For a long time, I went to bed early. [Marcel Proust, Swann's Way] You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. [Mark Twain, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn] If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. [J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye] I am a sick man. ... I am a spiteful man. I am an unattractive man. I believe my liver is diseased. [Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground] In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. [F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby] Mother died today. [Albert Camus, The Stranger]<br /><br />It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not. [Paul Auster, City of Glass] It was the day my grandmother exploded. [Iain Banks, The Crow Road] In the beginning, sometimes I left messages in the street. [David Markson, Wittgenstein's Mistress] It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York. [Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar] The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel. [William Gibson, Neuromancer] I was 50 years old and hadn't been to bed with a woman for four years. I had no women friends. I looked at them as I passed them on the streets or wherever I saw them, but I looked at them without yearning and with a sense of futility. I masturbated regularly, but the idea of having a relationship with a woman—even on non-sexual terms—was beyond my imagination. [Charles Bukowski, Women] [But] It was love at first sight. [Honestly man, you gotta know this one] Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress. [George Eliot, Middlemarch] It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. [Yep, that’s the one!] What if this young woman, who writes such bad poems, in competition with her husband, whose poems are equally bad, should stretch her remarkably long and well-made legs out before you, so that her skirt slips up to the tops of her stockings? [Gilbert Sorrentino, Imaginative Qualities of Actual Things] Having placed in my mouth sufficient bread for three minutes' chewing, I withdrew my powers of sensual perception and retired into the privacy of my mind, my eyes and face assuming a vacant and preoccupied expression. [Flann O'Brien, At Swim-Two-Birds] <br /><br />END OF PART 1Shenoyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03079693505772883105noreply@blogger.com