the novel has become too easy
anyone whos been to iowa can write one
anyone whos been accepted into the right clique can write a good one
anyone whos been to both can write a great one
but theres so many great novels being written therere no great ones left
the only novel left to write isnt the horrible one there are as many horrible ones as great ones but the nonexistent one sadoo is my nonexistence
why is sadoo a novel?
for the same reason genets a saint
saints define the novel which is only mind spilled and spilling as having these characteristics
- ephemerality
- contradictoriness
- infinitely nested metonymy
- anonymity through excessive naming
- aestheticspiritual coital blurring of unauthors unreaders untranslators
- utopian and uchronian
- plotless characterless dialogueless settingless
- beyond beyond and notbeyond
- more worldthanworld by being lessworldthanworld
when humans ask what my novels about i say about my moles but especially about my favourite mole or rather the one im most obsessed with the one im sure will give me melanoma the one on my right brachium about 9.5 centimetres from the elbow along the forearm somewhere not terribly unproximate from the flexor carpi ulnaris though i dont know anything about autonomy and its particularly subtle colourings and shadings its textures and shapings that seem to morph but in what reality its hard to say and i try to impress my lover with it but shes far more interested in another flexor and so im left with my melanoma alone as the poets have always told us and just the other day when i was examining it in the back corner of the garage but usually by this point theyve walked away
its important that entries be entered as daily and infrequently as possible to confuse unreaders as to whether this is a memoir novel confession manual sylwa poem epistolary travellog monograph casestudy encyclopedia specula biji satiricalepic echtra erotica slipstream femslash bildungsroman lectionary haiku journal sammelband tripitaka dirge aporetic criticism gongan swipefile isekai mythpunk hypomnema shenmo almanac alkahest zibaldone parapegma zij shaggydogstory panjika kalnirnay tungshing newspaper panchānga or taxreturn
my novel shall be so suspect as to merit genre meaning intent authorship sanity coherence audience reality that it jettisons itself through the novel and lands no it doesnt land it has no capability of landing it just jettisons and keeps on jettisoning with so much jettisonity it becomes jettison and makes not just this novel jettison and flotsam and lagan and jetsam but all future and once novels also jettisons poetry novels nonfiction philosophy journalism scholarship magicalrealism experimentalfiction all these silly categories and all the others and everything associated with them become jettisons and i write a jettison or rather am jettisoned along and through a jettison to more jettisonings just like humanity which itself has become jettison for we no longer are of or in the earth and have landed nowhere and are capable of landing nowhere jettisoning in outerinner space and so humanity novel identity earth race politics gender art death jettison and everything is jettisoning and jettison and sadoo is my jettison
No comments:
Post a Comment