Anatomy. Monotony.

Edy Poppy

Original Publication: 2005

Original Publication in English Translation: 2018

Original Publisher in English: Dalkey Archive Press

Although I糖心传媒檓 filing this as a 糖心传媒淩eading the Dalkey Archive糖心传媒� post, it糖心传媒檚 actually about two books: by Norwegian author Edy Poppy, translated by May-Brit Akerholt, and by Norwegian author Nina Lykke, translated by B. L. Crook.

And no, I糖心传媒檓 not putting these two books together simply because they糖心传媒檙e both by female Norwegian authors; I糖心传媒檓 putting them in conversation because they糖心传媒檙e both about extramarital affairs, the quest for romantic freedom and satisfaction, and jealousy. The two novels explore two different approaches糖心传媒攁n open marriage, a secret affair糖心传媒攖o the dissatisfaction, or incompleteness, so often found in traditional relationships.

They also present two different types of monotony. In Poppy糖心传媒檚 book, the repetitive nature of the couple糖心传媒檚 open relationship糖心传媒攖aking a lover, returning to one糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒減rimary糖心传媒� partner, cutting things off, starting again糖心传媒攂ecomes repetitive. Poppy states this much more eloquently in her conversation with Siri Hustvedt (read the whole conversation ):

I had sent them an early version of the novel, then called:聽Speculations About What Once Was, But That I Can Now Only Remember. In return I got a big analysis of my work and a refusal. One criticism was regarding the marriage of my main protagonists, a Norwegian wannabe writer called V氓r and her French husband and mentor Lou. It was that the couple糖心传媒檚 constant love experimentation was resulting in an unexpected form of monotony. Of repetition. And even though it was meant negatively, I thought, well, that糖心传媒檚 very interesting; I want to explore that more, not less! I understood many things about my writing through this rejection.

In Natural Causes, the monotony is of the narrator 贰濒颈苍糖心传媒檚 life and marriage. She糖心传媒檚 a general practitioner whose patients tend do the same things over and over again. (Sometimes dangerous, such as continuing to smoke and drink, never to diet. Other times not so dangerous, but just as annoying, such as the hypochondriac who never stops coming in hoping for a diagnosis.) And her relationship with her husband, who is obsessed only with participating in skiing competitions, is a total monotonous drag.

There糖心传媒檚 an affinity between these two books, a shared urge between the two female protagonists to find the best way to keep going, to live a life that糖心传媒檚 fulfilling in a way that feels deserved and right.

*

But let糖心传媒檚 back up and take these one at a time.

Anatomy. Monotony. is the story of V氓r who, like any good protagonist in a Dalkey book, is struggling to write a book about her relationship with her husband. She糖心传媒檚 married to Lou, but early on in their marriage was encouraged by him to maintain an incredibly passionate, almost obsessive relationship with a painter. (He糖心传媒檚 referred to as 糖心传媒淭he Painter糖心传媒� in the excerpts from the novel she’s writing, and referred to as 糖心传媒淭he Lover糖心传媒� in the 糖心传媒渞eal life糖心传媒� sections of the novel. I’ll use “The Lover” from here on out.)

A thruple, in modern parlance, and one that works . . . sort of . . . for a time. Lou encourages her to pose for, be painted by, and make love to The Lover; and V氓r is caught between the love and desire she has for her husband and the freedom he allows, and the near animalistic passion she experiences only with The Lover.

But then, jealousy. And things end with The Lover.

糖心传媒淭he Lover and I . . . We could never get enough. It was on the border of cannibalism . . . I really loved him, I truly did, I almost sacrificed Lou. But then it turned out to be wrong after all. Because now it糖心传媒檚 over. Now I feel something else, less painful, safer . . . Friendship.糖心传媒�

The Lover remains a constant in the background, throughout the rest of the novel, sometimes as the friend V氓r wants to talk with late at night, the love she hasn糖心传媒檛 really 糖心传媒済otten over糖心传媒� (one of the best lines in the book is 糖心传媒渘ostalgia doesn糖心传媒檛 mean anything other than what used to be is over, and now you wish it could be again糖心传媒�), and as an experiment that maybe went too far糖心传媒攁t least for Lou. Which is why he proposes a sort of game, a chance to do it all over again, to find a similar type of freedom, but that this time he’ll be able to handle himself, to deal with the jealousy, to do things right.

Of course, in the present time in the book, Lou has gotten quite involved with Sidney, a young girl who resembles Jane Birkin (R.I.P.), and with whom he takes lots of long walks, pines over, randomly spends nights with, so on and so forth. Which makes V氓r jealous.

In her words: 糖心传媒淛ealousy is something I have nothing but contempt for, but it still gnaws away inside me. I refuse to be broken.糖心传媒�

So Lou makes a proposal. With a sort of Nietzschean logic he tells V氓r that if she falls in love with someone again, like she did with The Lover, he糖心传媒檒l leave Sidney for good.

Enter The American. A cello player (his cello being the 糖心传媒渙nly woman I糖心传媒檝e never left, and who has never left me,糖心传媒� a line so cheesy that Lou糖心传媒檚 mocking groan slightly vindicates him) who lives in Amsterdam, has written a composition called 糖心传媒淭he Sexual Life of Plants糖心传媒� (another groan) that he糖心传媒檚 about to debut, and with whom V氓r has an instant, intense connection.

I don糖心传媒檛 want to recount this book beat for beat糖心传媒攁nd to be honest, I糖心传媒檓 cherry-picking moments here to try and logically build a sordid situation, whereas the book itself is muddier in a delightful, emotional way with semi-erotic digressions and meditations, and lots of other details rounding out these characters and their love affairs糖心传媒攂ut I wanted to get to this point, because this is where the masculine jealousy really starts to kick in.

Jealousy is always bad. And masculine jealousy is toxic and frequently dangerous.

Edy Poppy

If what I’ve written so far has you at all interested, you really should read this book for yourself. If you糖心传媒檝e ever felt love for multiple people at once, regret a relationship from the past that went sour or ended, or simply entertained the possibility of a nontraditional arrangement (糖心传媒淚 never dreamed of finding the man of my life. I wanted to be independent. Free. Feminist. Lou, on the other hand, always dreamed about finding the woman of his life, even if he didn糖心传媒檛 dream that this woman would be me. He wanted to be dependent. Macho. But it didn糖心传媒檛 turn out like that.糖心传媒�), this book will raise a lot of questions and bring to light a lot of complicated feelings.

There糖心传媒檚 also a pervasive sense of male creep throughout this novel, which the book undermines without being didactic or strident. Occasionally Poppy will be direct and on point, like in this passage:

糖心传媒淚 mean that you should go to Amsterdam, V氓r, that you should see, smell, feel, and let yourself be 糖心传媒榝ertilized糖心传媒� . . .糖心传媒� says Lou and mocks me with the American糖心传媒檚 clich茅. 糖心传媒淭hat you should take a chance. And if it goes to hell, if it goes the way I want it to . . . then I糖心传媒檒l take you back.糖心传媒� [Emphasis mine.]

But oftentimes the creep is just lurking, there in the background, in the form of phone calls and questions, and a latent desire to control the narrative . . . which all leads to a surprise (in part because it is not physically violent) resolution.

*

By contrast with V氓r, Elin in has always lived within the bounds of what糖心传媒檚 deemed 糖心传媒渁cceptable.糖心传媒� From the way she deals with her patients (who all test the bounds of her patience in different ways, each expecting the world, a quick and easy solution, without consideration for anyone or anything else), to her cozy life with her husband in a totally pleasant suburban community.

It’s not that she糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒渂uttoned down,糖心传媒� rather that that糖心传媒檚 just the way things are. You work hard, earn a decent salary, live a comfortable life, and enjoy (maybe too much) drinking wine.

And then, almost by accident, she messages her former boyfriend糖心传媒攖he one before her husband, the one with jealousy issues糖心传媒攁nd her life swerves.

At the start of Lykke糖心传媒檚 novel, a year has passed since Elin sent that initial message, and a lot has happened. Most notably, 贰濒颈苍糖心传媒檚 been having an affair with Bj酶rn, and more notably, her husband just found out. And unlike Lou from Anatomy. Monotony., he糖心传媒檚 not about to entertain the possibility of any sort of 糖心传媒渙pen糖心传媒� relationship.

What follows are essentially two plotlines: one recounting the development of the affair with Bj酶rn, the joy and freedom and hope and peace it brings to 贰濒颈苍糖心传媒檚 life, the other a micro-analysis of her day at the clinic and all the stresses and impossible requests the average person makes of doctors and science in today糖心传媒檚 day and age.

These intersect and bounce off one another, and equally held my interest, but for the sake of this particular piece, the affair is the only one I really want to write about.

In this instance, the jealousy displayed 颈蝉苍糖心传媒檛 necessarily as tinged with destructiveness糖心传媒攐r at least that 颈蝉苍糖心传媒檛 the primary focus when it comes to Aksel, 贰濒颈苍糖心传媒檚 husband糖心传媒攊nstead it plays as a sort of selfish narcissism, an inability on her husband糖心传媒檚 part to understand 贰濒颈苍糖心传媒檚 needs and desires. (糖心传媒淎ksel might have wanted the same thing that I did, that we would get over this crisis and grow from it and keep the home fire and the hearth fire and the daily fire burning, but none of that helped as long as other parts of him did not agree. And since these other parts of him were the parts that determined the basic functions, he was unable to sleep as long as I was next to him in the bed.糖心传媒�) And that糖心传媒檚 just as hurtful, and just as disappointing. Especially since Elin sees the vibrancy gained through her relationship with Bj酶rn as a potential 辫辞蝉颈迟颈惫别听for her relationship with her husband.

And yet, quite clearly, and with my full consciousness, I noticed how quickly the normal, ordinary version of myself was replaced by this being who must have been asleep inside of me, and who behaved contrary to all of the things I糖心传媒檇 said and believed up to that point.

Early on I began thinking in this way: What if I can take this energy and joy which I糖心传媒檝e found, all of this secretiveness and excitement, everything that糖心传媒檚 welling up inside me, and which makes me have less desire for drinking wine and watching TV and everything else that I used to chew and drink and swallow in order to soothe and calm myself糖心传媒�what if this could give me and Aksel a new life?

By applying a kind of controlled and intelligently designed alchemy, the illegal would become legal, the dirty would become pure, and the painful would transform into something edifying. The end would sanctify the means, and all of this goodness, this wonderfulness, the delectable, the forbidden, would be permitted to go on and on and on, for eternity.

Nina Lykke

I糖心传媒檓 not going to use this (very small) platform to promote cheating on your spouse, or necessarily embracing an open relationship糖心传媒攚hich 颈蝉苍糖心传媒檛 for everyone, and can be tricky even for those who are into it糖心传媒攂ut it糖心传媒檚 not unusual to reach a certain age and, despite the quality of your relationships, feel like there might be something more. Not necessarily a Grand Love Affair, or a Passion for the Ages, but a connection that is invigorating. Life is simultaneously very short and very long, and confining a person糖心传媒檚 ability to love and experience糖心传媒攅specially the way men have traditionally restricted their wives糖心传媒攆eels so small and petty and limited.

And although neither of these books offer any direct solution to this age-old issue, they both wrestle with the complexities and paradoxes of love and freedom in ways that will definitely resonate with a wide swathe of readers糖心传媒攎ale and female, jealous or supportive.

*

To return to Anatomy. Monotony. for one second, with that idea of complexity and paradox in mind, it糖心传媒檚 worth thinking about the way in which V氓r is writing what is essentially autofiction inside of Poppy糖心传媒檚 novel that, well, reads like autofiction.

The book is dedicated to: 糖心传媒渕y husband, who has given me everything, even what I didn糖心传媒檛 want. (He is now my ex-husband).糖心传媒�

And ends with the Fres谩n-esque disclaimer: 糖心传媒淧.S.: Everything I糖心传媒檝e written is true apart from what I糖心传媒檝e invented.糖心传媒�

Finally, there糖心传媒檚 this quote from V氓r that糖心传媒檚 right at the heart of desire糖心传媒檚 contradictions: 糖心传媒淚 answer that to miss me is wrong. That to miss me is the same as wasting time. A lot. If he can糖心传媒檛 forget me. I close my eyes and I suppose that deep down, that糖心传媒檚 what I hope. That I糖心传媒檓 unforgettable.糖心传媒�

Mulligan Stew

Gilbert Sorrentino

Original Publication: 1979

Original Publisher: Grove Press

First Dalkey Archive Edition: 1996

“Cheers!” So this may be the first糖心传媒攂ut definitely not the last糖心传媒攅ntry in this series that is kind of weird.

First off, unlike the earlier posts, which try to say something semi-comprehensive about the book in question, this one is more of an invitation: I want everyone who reads this to join along with the landmark 20^th Season of the Two Month Review podcast and read with us throughout September and October. (And maybe a bit into November. Our idea of 糖心传媒渕onths糖心传媒� and 糖心传媒渢ime糖心传媒� is a bit slippery.)

Additionally, as TMR progresses, I糖心传媒檓 going to be adding to this post every week. This may take the form of quotes, short analysis, info from outside sources, whatever. But in the end, it will be a chronicle of reading Mulligan Stew, rather than a static, singular post.

Anyway! Let糖心传媒檚 dig in! Five reasons to read Mulligan Stew:

1) Sorrentino糖心传媒檚 Reputation.

Gilbert Sorrentino is a foundational Dalkey Archive author. Actually, more than that, he糖心传媒檚 like the literary father figure that the press糖心传媒檚 catalog aspires to impress. He was one of John O糖心传媒橞rien糖心传媒檚 aesthetic mentors, and a very close friend who was instrumental in the foundation of the Review of Contemporary Fiction and the press as a whole. (I think they came up with the name 糖心传媒淒alkey Archive Press糖心传媒� together.) The number of stories I heard about 糖心传媒淕il糖心传媒澨切拇綌even though Gil was no longer speaking to John at the time, which, gulp, yeah, I totally get糖心传媒攃ould fill volumes. I heard about how Gil didn糖心传媒檛 have any depth perception, thus fuck metaphor. I heard about the people who lived in the apartment complex that was the setting for Imaginative Qualities of Actual Things, which was the Novel of Dismissive Mean-spiritedness that John latched onto.

Sorrentino糖心传媒檚 career was long and varied, seeing that he experimented with form and the possibilities for fiction with each and every book. There may well be a 糖心传媒淪orrentino Voice糖心传媒澨切拇綌a bit sardonic, sharp observations, exacting in terms of how language and fiction function糖心传媒攂ut I糖心传媒檓 hard pressed to think of a particular style or approach that would define his career. If you talk to a half-dozen Sorrentino fans糖心传媒攁ll of whom would be more qualified than I am to write this糖心传媒攜ou糖心传媒檒l end up with an array of both 糖心传媒渂est糖心传媒� Sorrentino books and suggestions of 糖心传媒渨here to start糖心传媒� with his oeuvre. 糖心传媒攁 remarkable meditation of sorts, akin to Gass糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒攊s a great starting point, although might be the most emotional, and most straightforward in terms of the formal experimentation. might be the funniest糖心传媒攁nd filled with the most daggers糖心传媒攁nd is the book everyone should read when they糖心传媒檙e preparing for a divorce. is unparalleled in how it captures the ins and outs of a particular Brooklyn neighborhood, and does something similar, but using the tarot as its framework. is a novel in all questions, and, well, Mulligan Stew (my personal favorite and the only of his books with its own Wikipedia entry) is a complete blast from start to finish.

2) It糖心传媒檚 a Book about Writing a Book.

The most Dalkey of all Dalkey tropes! But in this case, rather than focusing on the difficulties of figuring out how to write a book, Mulligan Stew revels in the generative nature of creation, spilling forth list after list, joke after joke, opinion after opinion. It糖心传媒檚 like Flann O糖心传媒橞rien on crack, with a touch of the movies covered on the How Did This Get Made? podcast.

Here’s the set-up, as simply as I can put it: Antony Lamont is an experimental writer who has never really received the attention he (thinks) he deserves for his novels. But this new book he糖心传媒檚 working on? This is going to be the one. A 糖心传媒渘ew wave murder mystery糖心传媒� narrated by the killer, that merges detective fiction and high literature. And is populated by characters he糖心传媒檚 borrowed from James Joyce, Dashiell Hammett, etc., etc. (Antony Lamont is a reference to Flann O糖心传媒橞rien糖心传媒檚 At Swim-Two-Birds)糖心传媒攃haracters who, when Lamont 颈蝉苍糖心传媒檛 paying attention (aka, actively writing about them), they糖心传媒檙e exploring the half-written house they live in and the nearby town, seeking a way out of this horribly written book. In addition to excerpts from the 糖心传媒渘ovel in progress糖心传媒� and the characters inside, we get to read Lamont糖心传媒檚 increasingly unhinged correspondence with his sister (especially about her husband, his literary nemesis), a professor who maybe wants to teach one of his books, a poet he糖心传媒檚 trying to get into bed, and so so much more.

3) Myriad Forms That Dissect the Nature of Writing.

Although there are certain recurring bits, a big appeal of this book糖心传媒攆or me at least糖心传媒攊s its diversity of forms, aping everything from detective novels to erotica to epistolary novels to surreal plays to . . . And in each instance, Sorrentino via Lamont manages to expose the quirks and flaws and oddnesses at the limits of fiction. Things that conventional novels coax us into ignoring are presented so baldly in this novel in a way that糖心传媒檚 funny and aesthetically captivating.

This will become more and more apparent over the course of this season of TMR, but here are a few fun little quotes to whet your appetite.

First, this is from the front matter, which is a series of rejections of the novel Mulligan Stew:

Dear Gilbert Sorrentino:

It糖心传媒檚 wonderful of you to think of us here at New Views Press as possible publishers for your new novel, MULLIGAN STEW. Wow! as my seven-year-old says, all too often, six hundred pages sounds like something! When you say you worked on it almost four years, I can well believe you!

I糖心传媒檓 afraid my 糖心传媒渂atting average糖心传媒� at second-guessing 糖心传媒渢he Boss糖心传媒� is somewhat less than 1.000 right now, but I糖心传媒檒l go 糖心传媒渙ut on a limb糖心传媒� and risk telling you that it seems very doubtful that we can even consider taking it on, 糖心传媒渁las糖心传媒�!

I糖心传媒檓 sure you糖心传媒檝e read the newspaper 糖心传媒渟tories糖心传媒澨切拇綌albeit many of them were predictably exaggerated糖心传媒攐n the dolphin-training project that L was deeply involved in and that came, unfortunately, 糖心传媒渁-cropper.糖心传媒� L was rather upset, partly because of the money loss involved, but more importantly, because he hoped to publish an anthology of 糖心传媒淒olphin Poems,糖心传媒� translated by Dr. Mullion Blasto. You can imagine what a 糖心传媒渂low糖心传媒� it was to L when Blasto went with Disney. But enough of our troubles!

At the moment, as above noted, I would venture a tentative guess that L simply could not think of publishing such a work as yours. We are still 糖心传媒減icking up the pieces糖心传媒� here. I take the liberty of wishing you and yours well, and of extending L糖心传媒檚 good wishes to you.

To 糖心传媒済ood letters,糖心传媒�

John Cates

Managing Editor

Next up, a poem from Lorna Flambeaux糖心传媒檚 The Sweat of Love:

“Hot Bodies”

 

Hot bodies entwined together

stuck with sweat, the gorgeous guck of love.

We fuck . . .

糖心传媒攁ll unashamed!

Proud of our . . .

Hot bodies!

In my laughing flesh lies hidden

that dark inferno, Life糖心传媒檚 secret Word.

It yearns to reach out and whisper

to your smold糖心传媒檙ing core. It CANNOT! It CANNOT!

So you, beloved, in my widespread loins must find

the entrance to this deep and tender Word.

YES!!! YES!!!

Only the dead

say 糖心传媒淣o糖心传媒� to love. Our hot bodies糖心传媒攁re aflame

with Life! And now your Life plunges

to my thrilling deeps . . . OH!!!

. . . I swiftly swoon . . .

And here are some of the clich茅s a group of cowboy characters have been subjected to by hack writers over all the books they appeared in;

In one job I threw my clothes on at least twenty times.

My interest slackens when I糖心传媒檓 forced to watch the smoke from my cigarette curl lazily in the air.

Especially when it糖心传媒檚 blue smoke . . . and it糖心传媒檚 always blue smoke!

But how often have you thoughtfully knocked out your pipe? Or filled it?

If I stretch luxuriously one more time . . .

Right! But how do you feel about your eyes scanning the horizon?

That糖心传媒檚 as bad as not liking it because it糖心传媒檚 too quiet.

How many times, I pray you, have you emerged into the sunlight blinking?

Not as many times as I糖心传媒檝e grabbed for the phone.

I once had a position where I wheedled every third page.

I was once dazzlingly insouciant to the point of nausea.

I糖心传媒檓 damn sick of getting home and going straight to bed without washing.

I糖心传媒檓 just as tired of the sun in my eyes always waking me up.

How do you like the wet streets that shimmer in the fog? I糖心传媒檓 up to here with them.

I don糖心传媒檛 mind the women whose bosoms heave糖心传媒攗nless they crack their gum. Or chew it furiously. Or simper.

I was in a scene once with a woman who primped and simpered. As a matter of fact, I think she also whimpered.

As long as she didn糖心传媒檛 whine . . .

 

4) Incredibly Funny.

I think this is obvious by now, but damn, this book is just delightful. Sure, it糖心传媒檚 about a writer糖心传媒檚 mental breakdown and mental illness is no joke, but holy shit, I dare you to read this book and not laugh. Even the mathematical paper that糖心传媒檚 inserted in here (what 颈蝉苍糖心传媒檛 included?) is funny in a certain light.

But truly, this is a masterpiece of comedic literature. Again, it糖心传媒檚 like Extreme Flann O糖心传媒橞rien, or maybe a bit like a contemporary Tristram Shandy. It糖心传媒檚 a giant book, and one that does raise糖心传媒攁nd answer糖心传媒攃ertain questions about fiction and the craft of writing (this is one of Sorrentino糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒渨riter糖心传媒檚 writer糖心传媒� sort of books), but it糖心传媒檚 a book that truly entertains on every page. There are bits糖心传媒攐ften crass or crude糖心传媒攖hat function more like traditional jokes, but most of the humor arises from the voices糖心传媒攁lso frequently crass and crude糖心传媒攆ound throughout, especially Antony Lamont糖心传媒檚 which is soooooo self-serious at times, frequently cringey, and increasingly more and more batshit.

5) Bad Writing Is So Good.

It糖心传媒檚 really hard to pull off, but intentionally bad writing is so rewarding to read. Just like really bad movies can be so fun. I used to spout off about糖心传媒攁t every logical opportunity糖心传媒攁 糖心传媒渢heory糖心传媒� I had about art that ~95% of it is devoutly mediocre: technically competent, fine enough, but basically just average. And instead of wasting time on those sort of middling movies or books, I only wanted to read the truly amazing, and the absolutely awful.

And in Mulligan Stew, you get both!

Bonus: There糖心传媒檚 Baseball In It.

Just a moment to insert the scorecard of the baseball game Sollis took me to. Whatever it means! It has a certain arcane beauty to it, though. A conversation piece if I work at a decent job soon? I showed it to Ned just before he left and he glanced at it and laughed long and loud.

*

Again, this book is a one-of-a-kind tour de force that is very re-readable, and a great entryway to the Sorrentino world糖心传媒擨糖心传媒檓 looking forward to rereading, and writing about, so many of his books over the next couple years糖心传媒攁nd I can糖心传媒檛 wait to dig into this with my TMR cohost, Brian Wood (author of Joytime Killbox and a forthcoming novel featuring a character whose persona and writing would be right at home in Mulligan Stew), a number of guests, and, hopefully, all of you.

Buy a copy of the book, follow along with the reading schedule, and enjoy this season!

The Book of Jokes

Momus

Original publication: 2009

Original publisher: Dalkey Archive

is first original Dalkey Archive聽 title to be part of this series, and woo-boy is it a doozy. If you’re playing 糖心传媒淥ffensive Dalkey Archive Content Bingo,” you’re all set! There are jokes about incest, religion, women, pedophilia, murder, shit, penises, farmyard animals . . . and probably a dozen other potentially offensive bits, all wrapped up in a semi-metafictional story that eschews realism in favor of something much more unhinged and provocative.

In other words, it’s your average Dalkey title: a NSFW that values form over content, exploring the idea of what a novel can be rather than producing a straightforward depiction of 糖心传媒渓ife.糖心传媒�

It糖心传媒檚 also very entertaining and a delightful (yes, I糖心传媒檓 going with 糖心传媒渄elightful糖心传媒�) representation of three key elements of joke telling that left me literally (yes, literally) laughing out loud, receiving deservedly strange looks from everyone on the bus, in the bar, at the library. (All places I would not recommend reading this filthy book.)

(Also: probably not a great idea to read from over Zoom, at a staff meeting. Just saying.)

But before we get to the meat of the matter, what is this book and who is Momus?

Last things first: Momus is Nick Currie, a Scottish musician and rabble rouser, whose songs include 糖心传媒溙切拇綕 (for which he was sued by Michelin Tire Company for using their mascot as a metaphor for 糖心传媒渉ypersexualized rubber fetishism糖心传媒�[1]), 糖心传媒溙切拇綕 (for which he was sued by Wendy Carlos, since the song 糖心传媒減ostulated that after post-sexual reassignment surgery, Wendy could travel back in time to marry her pre-surgery self糖心传媒�[2]), but also 糖心传媒�,糖心传媒� and 糖心传媒�.糖心传媒� Not to mention, he was an influence on Jarvis Cocker and Pulp and Suede糖心传媒攁nd was friends with Justine Frischmann of Elastic (1990s Chad just )糖心传媒攁nd worked with Cornelius. (If you want a fast introduction to his music,聽is a great place to start.)

So yeah, controversial, but also quite influential and a serious, respected musician and artist.

And is the first of six novels (The Book of Scotlands, The Book of Japans, UnAmerica) along with a memoir from FSG entitled Niche: A Memoir in Pastiche.聽(I don’t know the backstory for how Dalkey came to do this book, nor why聽狈颈肠丑别听appears to only be available as an audiobook only . . . )

So, although it糖心传媒檚 fun to play up the controversial, enfant terrible aspects of his life and art, that’s not entirely fair. Controversy sells糖心传媒攁nd invites cancellation糖心传媒攂ut being an artist across decades, across media is such a curious challenge. (Both David Bowie and Catherine Lacey’s Biography of X come to mind.) When you’re a true working artist, there’s so much more at play糖心传媒攕o many songs, so many books, so many performances. And sticking just his writing for now, The Book of Jokes is an absolute blast that糖心传媒檚 hard to put down糖心传媒攅xcept to laugh糖心传媒攁nd, to continue proving Momus’s credentials to an imagined audience unaware of his work, this books was favorably reviewed by the , who compared him to John Barth and Robert Coover. (Two other Dalkey authors.)

So what is The Book of Jokes actually about? Well, being trapped in a narrative determined by dirty jokes糖心传媒攚hat else?

Call it 糖心传媒渏oke dharma,糖心传媒� if you like. Bad jokes, dirty jokes are, to my world, what the force of gravity is to yours. They shape every event in my life, and in the life of my family. I am not sure why it is so, but that it is, I cannot doubt. As a result, I live in a grim mirror world. I am a character trapped in a book of jokes糖心传媒攋okes, furthermore, which are in very poor taste.

Our narrator, trapped in this bizarro world in which life is like a blue Cinemax stand-up special, is in jail, where he has two companions: a molester and a murderer. The triad (back to this idea in a minute) decide to escape and, since obviously none of them have committed the crimes for which they were imprisoned, agree to commit the exact crimes they were convicted of, so that, in a weird, karmic way, they make up for the time they糖心传媒檝e already spent behind bars.

That storyline runs throughout the novel, serving as a clothesline off of which to hang one offensive story from Sebastian Skeleton糖心传媒檚 life and childhood after another. It糖心传媒檚 not entirely satisfying in terms of a 糖心传媒減lot,糖心传媒� but it functions the way it should, starting from a conversation about whether someone could 糖心传媒渉ave an uncle who was also his nephew糖心传媒� and ending with a quite satisfying twist: 糖心传媒淲e weren糖心传媒檛 speaking to you,糖心传媒� we say, speaking to you.

But for me糖心传媒攕omeone who pretends, too frequently, especially when intoxicated, to have aspirations of doing stand-up comedy, one-time, some day糖心传媒攖his novel is primary a taxonomy of joke structures. (Or at least three particular structures.)

Joke Structure #1: The Unexpected Ending

One theory of what makes funny things funny is the way in a joke糖心传媒檚 set-up takes you right up to the edge of a relatively reasonable explanation, but then veers. The unexpected is what catches you off guard and, especially when it transgresses certain taboos, allows a momentary catharsis in the form of laughter.

Momus takes this to the extreme, sure, and, in that extreme, pulls out a few different laughs.

糖心传媒淥kay, Dad, here糖心传媒檚 another. One dark, stormy night a couple are in a car driving fast through a foreign city. The car breaks down and the husband has to go and get help from someone who can speak his language. He糖心传媒檚 afraid to leave his wife alone in the car, so he winds up the windows and locks the car before leaving. When he returns the car is in the same state he left it in, but his wife is dead, there糖心传媒檚 blood on the floor and there糖心传媒檚 a stranger in the car. Explain what happened.糖心传媒�

糖心传媒淲ell,糖心传媒� explained Dad, 糖心传媒渢he car broke down because the husband crashed it, killing his wife. The stranger was a policeman, investigating the crash. The man had been afraid to leave his dead wife alone because the area was a notorious necrophilia black spot.糖心传媒�

糖心传媒淎 necrophilia black spot?糖心传媒� asked Luisa. 糖心传媒淲hat does that mean?糖心传媒�

糖心传媒淚t means a place where there are a lot of people living who like to fuck dead people,糖心传媒� explained my father.

糖心传媒淎re they marked with traffic signs?糖心传媒� asked Luisa. [. . .]

糖心传媒淣o,糖心传媒� I said, 糖心传媒渘o, top marks for imagination, Dad, but that糖心传媒檚 not right. The wife was about to give birth. They were on their way to a hospital. While the man was fetching help the baby was born, but the wife died in childbirth.糖心传媒�

糖心传媒淵ou糖心传媒檙e an incredibly boring person,糖心传媒� said my father.

The real joke in there is the 糖心传媒渢raffic signs,糖心传媒� but you can only get there via the absurdity of the father糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒済uess,糖心传媒� which is its own sort of set-up.

Joke Structure #2: And and and and and and and and

Here糖心传媒檚 where I attempt to tie this post into the one on Djuna Barnes糖心传媒檚 Ryder . . .

So, as I was reading this book糖心传媒攁nd trying to explain to friends and family why I liked it so much糖心传媒攁nd what kept coming to mind was . Not only for the filth baked into every telling of that joke ( and Sarah Silverman糖心传媒檚 are still legendary), but for the overstuffing, the endlessly adding to the jokes, the improv that never stops . . . because whatever you add in there only makes the joke even funnier.

It糖心传媒檚 not as dirty, but in college I would love to get really stoned and tell the 糖心传媒渉orse糖心传媒檚 ass糖心传媒� joke. The one in which a young kid, let’s call him Jimmy, goes to the circus, and gets called out of the audience by a clown so that he, Jimmy, can be part of a joke糖心传媒擳HE GREATEST MOMENT OF HIS LIFE糖心传媒攁nd the clown says, 糖心传媒渁re you a horse糖心传媒檚 head?糖心传媒� 糖心传媒淣o . . .糖心传媒� 糖心传媒淲ell then, you must be a horse糖心传媒檚 ass!糖心传媒� Massive laughter erupts from throughout the big top, and the kid, poor little Jimmy, who糖心传媒檚 friendless and saw this chance, him, in the spotlight with a clown!, to be his one shining moment after which, duh and or obviously, Bethany would totally read all his love notes (reminder: never write love notes), pisses his pants so gushingly that everyone糖心传媒攅ven in the nosebleed section糖心传媒攃an see the stream pouring down his bare legs, darkening the sawdust at his feet. More laughter. It’s fucking hysterical. More embarrassment for Jimmy. And a sudden, lifelong, Captain Ahab level quest for revenge.

That set-up糖心传媒攚hich is fine in its own right, premised upon a bit that, if we’re being honest, isn’t really all that funny糖心传媒攆unctions as the launchpad for the (stoned) joke-teller to just start riffing. Sure, there are beats that must be hit糖心传媒擩immy prepares and prepares, has a second meeting with the clown, fails, regathers his strength, trains again, finds the clown a third time糖心传媒攂ut the joy is in the details.

LIKE WITH RYDER the information, the message is not the point: it糖心传媒檚 how you get there.

Where do you take Jimmy? Exactly what sort of preparation does he go through before the ultimate confrontation with clown? As the (stoned) joke-teller, you can send him to Comeback University. Or to Mars. Maybe the Amazon to spend a decade gathering wisdom from a tribe that specializes in getting verbal revenge. Whatever you want to do, (stoned) joke-teller, go for it! The more ludicrous the better. Go all out, make the joke lasts 30 minutes (or, well, ten? stoned joke-tellers are prone to exaggerate), add as many detours as you want, then land it with the extremely simple punchline.

And, of course, about three-quarters of the way through The Book of Jokes, after several other examples of the 糖心传媒渁nd and and and and and and糖心传媒� joke structure, we finally get the aristocrats joke.

糖心传媒�. . . When he comes, a huge bucket of sperm is tipped over us from above and the curtains swing shut as we writhe about in it.糖心传媒�

Farquar looked thunderstruck. 糖心传媒淎nd what do you call this act?糖心传媒� he asked.

糖心传媒淚 can糖心传媒檛 think of a name,糖心传媒� said my father.

Joke Structure #3: The second time is annoying, the fifth time is golden

I am so guilty of this! (And NOT just when I’m a stoned joke-teller!)

Trebling is one thing糖心传媒攖he threes that pervade folklore, joke telling (糖心传媒渁 molester, a murderer, and a narrator meet in prison糖心传媒�)糖心传媒攂ut when you take a particular line, a short bit and turn it into a motif that recurs and morphs and structures a comedy set, a night, a novel . . . that糖心传媒檚 so much funnier. Instead of playing it twice for tragedy, and thrice for comedy, play it ten times and make it more and more outrageous.

I absolutely can not give away what the running gag is in The Book of Jokes, which is killing me and, I swar, if you get me on the phone, I糖心传媒檒l tell you the joke AND make it extra dirty! For now though, trust me, it糖心传媒檚 good. (And I’m neither stoned, nor telling the joke!) The original joke is great, and every single iteration got me糖心传媒攅ven when I could see it coming a mile off糖心传媒攁nd the final variation brings the whole thing home.

*

Anyway, since it糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒淒alkey Music Week糖心传媒� on Three Percent, I糖心传媒檓 going to leave you with these lyrics from Momus糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒溙切拇綕:

I like you, and I’d like you to like me to like you
But I don’t need you
Don’t need you to want me to like you
Because if you didn’t like me
I would still like you, you see
La la la
La la la

I lick you, I like you to like me to lick you
But I don’t need you
Don’t need you to like me to lick you
If your pleasure turned into pain
I would still lick for my personal gain
La la la
La la la

I fuck you, and I love you to love me to fuck you
But I don’t fucking need you
Don’t need you to need me to fuck you
If you need me to need you to fuck
That fucks everything up
La la la
La la la

*

[1] From Wikipedia

[2] Again, Wikipedia

Ryder

Djuna Barnes

Original Publication: 1928

Original Publisher: Boni & Liveright

First Dalkey Archive Edition: 1990

This is a baggy novel of excess, and as someone who finds it nearly impossible to keep the thread糖心传媒攐r develop a coherent thesis (any and all AI grading systems would plant my writings firmly in the C to C+ range)糖心传媒攁nd who, by natural gift, or curse, likes to overstuff every post with footnotes and asides and self-references, I糖心传媒檓 willing to bet that this appreciation of Barnes糖心传媒檚 playfully polyamorous novel of Wendall Ryder, his mother Sophia, his wife Amelia, his lover Kate (aka Kate-Careless), and all their myriad kids, 颈蝉苍糖心传媒檛 going to follow from point A to Z, but instead follow a more natural path of observation and exclamation, admiration and exhalation, repetition and repetition, all with the singular (maybe I can stick to something?) goal of convincing anyone who braves these paragraphs to read this book, or, if nothing else, at least skip-around in it.[1]

I糖心传媒檓 convinced that Djuna Barnes is about to have her (overdue and deserved) renaissance.

By sheer coincidence (and laws about public domain), not only is Dalkey reissuing Ryder in a splashy new 糖心传媒淓ssentials Edition糖心传媒� this summer糖心传媒攚ith a new printing of Ladies Almanack coming early next year糖心传媒攂ut New York Review Books Classics is bringing out a Collected Stories in 2024 (?糖心传媒攁s I write this, I can糖心传媒檛 find a proper listing), with an introduction by Merv茅 Emre.[2]

And thus, the pieces are in place and the stage is set. But Barnes’s lasting appeal goes far beyond business machinations of the marketplace. She was a singular writer, with an approach and style so many readers of today will likely delight in discovering. The Lispector rediscovery comes to mind, although, on a stylistic level, Barnes is frequently compared to Nathalie Sarraute, another author ripe for rediscovery糖心传媒攁nd another Dalkey author.

Barnes is primarily known for her 1936 masterpiece, Nightwood, which is published in paperback by New Directions, and in a different, hardcover, version by Dalkey Archive, and is probably the only one of her books regularly taught in college classes across the U.S. And yet! She was a pioneer, perfect for the academy. A Rabelaisian writer, who, in the words of Paul West糖心传媒攚hose afterword deserves to be read by all and sundry糖心传媒斕切拇綔wanted to undo all readers, to deflower them in one way or another, to stop them from expecting fiction to behave like some well-bred social organism.糖心传媒� He goes on in that same afterword to state:

Early, she discovered the principle of addictiveness, meaning that she could always add something to something else, not because the first something was inadequate but because the observing or defining mind required such elbowroom. Her writing delineates, often with mordant accuracy, but she bloats it too, just to tell us she is there, serving the cause of plenty. She is among those rare souls, the phrase-makers, to whom a phrase no one else could have dreamed up is more precious than whole sequences of action or talk. Her work is there to evince her own mind, and to overface ours. Sometimes you have to read her with tweezers, other times with a trowel and a scoop, especially when she has let someone loose in a soliloquy. I think she sometimes thought of the novel as the supremist form of soliloquy, which is to say the novel at its closest to poetry. She has a superb sense of rhythm, so much so that she hears the rhythm long before the words arrive and the rhythm brings the combinations into being. Her prose evokes Wendell糖心传媒檚 longing for 糖心传媒渁n extra large English pudding with whacking diamond-shaped goblets of suet shot through.糖心传媒� Above all, she is the virtuoso of the sentence, the ability to make which kept her going to the age of ninety. She built with bricks when others trifled with straw. She remained intense. She attuned herself to the constant ambience of heroic voice. She was serious, critical, and terminal, like an illness.

*

Djuna Barnes was born in 1892, and was a highly sought after journalist and illustrator糖心传媒攖he Dalkey edition of Ryder includes almost two-dozen of these illustrations糖心传媒攚ho moved to Paris at the start of the 1920s (like some other American authors you may have heard of, who are taught in an array of English classes), and had a run of consecutive works糖心传媒�The Book of Repulsive Women (1915), A Book (1923), Ryder (1928), Ladies Almanack (1928), Nightwood (1936糖心传媒�the year of grand literary works), and The Antiphon (1958)糖心传媒攖hat糖心传媒檚 almost unprecedented. (And, like West alludes to in his afterword, 颈蝉苍糖心传媒檛 everything she left behind: she died at 90 and wrote for her whole life.)

The 糖心传媒減lot糖心传媒� of Ryder糖心传媒�so much as there is one糖心传媒攊s basically what I put in my opening ramble of a paragraph: It’s set around the turn of the nineteenth century, and features Sophia Grieve Ryder, a scandalous character who marries over and again, and breeds like her fore-mother (who had fourteen kids of her own), including by giving birth to one Wendall, the second of her sons, who, in England with his mother, meets Amelia, and eventually brings her back to America to be his wife. They wed. They start procreating. He immediately gets involved with Kate糖心传媒攚ho has her own non-traditional past of lovers and whatnot糖心传媒攁nd the three (four, counting Sophia) live together as separate from society as they can be (for not only is their bigamist/poly-situation a thing with the locals, but they don糖心传媒檛 believe in sending their kids to school, which, again, pisses off the law-abiders), raising their eight (I believe that糖心传媒檚 right) kids, having philosophical (and comic) conversations about love and life, squabbling with one another, roaming and repenting, and just making do.

It糖心传媒檚 a great fable糖心传媒攁 playbook if you will糖心传媒攆or our troubled times. For the freedom-seekers looking for liberation and to transcend traditionally imposed, and most definitely male-centric, models of being.[3] Although incredibly complicated糖心传媒攏o one’s relationship in this book is clean or “chill”糖心传媒攖here’s a thread of outlaw joy from the deconstruction of societal assumptions that is both logical and a potential pathway to more open, human-to-human, relationships.

But putting aside the sociological import of the book and its desire to break free from everything糖心传媒攊ncluding expectations of what constitutes a “novel”糖心传媒擨 want to focus on the fun, free-flowing frolic of Barnes糖心传媒檚 prose, which, in every way, on every page, throws itself to the front of the stage, taking precedent over plot and “moral messages.糖心传媒�

*

This book cycles through styles like a postmodern Dreamachine, entrancing and dazzling the reader in a way that糖心传媒攎aybe it糖心传媒檚 our age, our attention spans, or maybe it always was this way糖心传媒攆orces one to read and reread, to figure out how to parse the sentences, or, more accurately, how to hang on to the paragraph’s momentum, and, to throw out a reference point, although it predates Miss MacIntosh, My Darling by decades, there糖心传媒檚 an affinity, a sort of roller-coaster vibe that rewards with every swerve, with every loop, every phrasing that feels anachronistic, or maybe stodgy? on the surface, but is just evidence of a high-wire act that糖心传媒檚 almost inconceivable if you糖心传媒檙e wedded (poly reference totally intended) to today糖心传媒檚 dominant form or American neo-realism.

Let me try to explain.

But first, let me try and scare you off.

Or, rather, let me let Barnes simply show off. Here糖心传媒檚 the opening of Chapter 1, 糖心传媒淛esus Mundane,糖心传媒� subtitled 糖心传媒淏y Way of Introduction,糖心传媒� which is wonderfully not for those who blush at unbridled ambitiously聽Biblical聽prose:

Go not with fanatics who see beyond thee and thine, and beyond the coming and the going of thee and thine, and yet beyond the ending thereof,糖心传媒攖hy life and the lives that thou begettest, and the lives that shall spring from them, world without end,糖心传媒�for such need thee not, nor see thee, nor know thy lamenting, so confounded are they with thy damnation and the damnation of thy offspring, and the multiple damnation of those multitudes that shall be of thy race begotten, unto the number of fishes in thin waters, and unto the number of fishes in great waters. Alike are they distracted with thy salvation and the salvation of thy people. Go thou, then, to lesser men, who have for all things unfinished and uncertain, a great capacity, for these shall not repulse thee, thy physical body and thy temporal agony, thy weeping and thy laughing and thy lamenting. Thy rendezvous is not with the Last Station, but with small comforts, like to apples in the hand, and small cups quenching, and words that go neither here nor there, but traffic with the outer ear, and gossip at the gates of thy insufficient agony. [Boldface mine.]

First time through, that can be daunting. A clause-heavy opening sentence coming in at 102 words, which include three thee糖心传媒檚, two thy糖心传媒檚, and a begettest (!). Also, a lot of damnation. So much damnation. And a phrase set off by em-dashes that sounds like it糖心传媒檚 coming right out of the mouth of a preacher: 糖心传媒淭hy life and the lives that thou begettest, and the lives that shall spring from them, world without end糖心传媒� . . . You can almost hear the unwritten 糖心传媒淎men!糖心传媒�)

But, like every great book, it糖心传媒檚 demonstrating how you can learn to read it, letting you in on what this book is all about.

Go not with fanatics who see beyond thee and thine, for such need thee not, confounded as they are with thy damnation and the damnation of thy offspring.

In short:

Hey, Wendall? Tell all those moralizing townies hating on your life, your wife, your mistress, and your kids to go fuck themselves! And don糖心传媒檛 worry: those shit sippers aren糖心传媒檛 actually paying attention to you: they糖心传媒檙e all about 糖心传媒榮alvation.’ Hang out with the riffraff.

Again, this is the backbone of the 糖心传媒減lot糖心传媒� that a reader might like to know up front; off this clothesline hang tons of asides, set pieces, and musings that aren’t always 糖心传媒渇unctional糖心传媒� in a strict “advance the plot” sense, but instead tend to be where the fun and frolicking is at.[4]

*

I’ll admit: Returning to聽搁测诲别谤听almost a quarter decade after the first (and only) time I read it, one of my initial thoughts was, “oh, shit, this book is going to be聽difficult.”

Ryder is a novel that can be 糖心传媒渄ifficult糖心传媒� to read because of the conflict between current patterns of speech and communicative gestures (texts, Instagram reels, emoji, directness), and the more baroque, labyrinthine way of articulating a journey instead of a message evidenced in every paragraph of the book, a style which tends to require such patient parsing. The reader has to attune themselves. And, frequently, be willing to release their grip on rules of concision and grammar (Struck & White can fuck themselves with those shit sipping townfolk of above) to allow a voice to lead them.

And sometimes, a literal voice helps.

(Recording done by Kaija Straumanis.)

It糖心传媒檚 easy to read right past the pauses and emphases when you first visually encounter the opening paragraphs of this section:

It was a sweet spring morning, once upon a time, many, many, many years ago, when the two women, Amelia de Grier and Kate-Careless, went, as nature would have it (there being nothing new under the sun), upon their four feet to do up the dirty mess, and damn their infinitesimal-lime-squirting-never-stop-for-consideration-of-a woman cloacae (and she with the backache and the varicose veins climbing her legs), or whatever-you-call-the-backsides-of-a-pigeon, and to look into the matter of the eggs and casualties.

Up the dusty stairs they went, besoms in hand, a flower between Amelia糖心传媒檚 teeth, and with stomachs crawling (for alas! there糖心传媒檚 nothing new under the sun), into the thraldom of feathers, and there, strutting and cooing and bill-begging, round and round in a dance of death, went Blue-Wing and Sweet-Tuft, the metal rings on their twiggy ankles knocking out a convict糖心传媒檚 tune against the imbrication of their feet, round and round in a merry pigeon lust, squirting trouble as they went, and smelling most hideous insufficient, as is the way with a bird.

Unlike the previous example, in which snapping off the grammatically key packets of information and lining them up eases a sense of understanding, this section works better if it糖心传媒檚 performed. Read aloud, time distends in the paragraph, slowing down to allow the asides to land糖心传媒攁sides that function almost like the motifs of a good stand-up comedy performance, something we糖心传媒檒l see a lot more of in a future installment in this series of posts when we get to Momus糖心传媒檚 and Ben Slotky’s 糖心传媒攍etting the reader/listener fall into the rhythms, finding an understanding of the paragraph糖心传媒檚 intent in its delivery rather than its strict meaning.

For me, the irony comes through better when I hear it read than when I see it on the page.

*

I love this book. Every chapter, a journey. (Stay tuned to this spa

ce for a couple of longer excerpts closer to the time that this will be reissued.[5]) And more than the specific ideas, the

dismantling of traditional partnerships and expressions of sexuality (quick note: the book was censored when initially published in America[6]), it糖心传媒檚 the way in which each chapter of Ryder asks new things of the reader糖心传媒攖o cotton onto what style is being invoked, to enter into the jazz of the text糖心传媒攔eading like a game in which all sides can win.

Again, and circling back to the beginning, it’s time for the Barnes-assance.

*

Oh! There are also drawings:

Which is as good a place to wrap this up as any given the images and design-heavy elements of Ladies Almanack that will inevitably be part of a future post. Till then, I糖心传媒檒l leave with one final line: 糖心传媒淎nd whom should he disappoint?糖心传媒�

*

[1] In Macedonio Fernandez糖心传媒檚 Museum of Eterna糖心传媒檚 Novel (The First Good Novel), he writes about the 糖心传媒渟kip-around reader糖心传媒� who follows whims instead of page numbers, driving Macedonio to put his book together all out of order糖心传媒攕o that the 糖心传媒渟kip-around reader糖心传媒� would chance into reading it in the order Macedonio actually intended.

[2] It should go without saying, but if you want actual insight and literary analysis into Barnes糖心传媒檚 work, read Emre糖心传媒檚 intro! (And/or the issue of the Review of Contemporary Fiction on her.) Not necessarily this piece.

[3] Although in our topsy-turvy world, this same basic situation could be, maybe, and I糖心传媒檓 just riffing here, adopted by the libertarian right, those who want to live in partnerships (with both guns and the right to fiscally deceive other people) without too much local (government) oversight,聽 糖心传媒減arents糖心传媒� rights糖心传媒� when it comes to education?

This may be a book about the paradoxes of morality and the people who attempt to enforce it, but this probably 颈蝉苍糖心传媒檛 the place to point out that the 糖心传媒渉ands off my ____糖心传媒� thread of extreme conservatism should really, more than almost any other object or idea, be applied to books, words, and their general access. This also isn’t the time or space to mention the obvious dissonance between wanting to use all the so called 糖心传媒渘on-Woke,糖心传媒� 糖心传媒渙ffensive糖心传媒� words, yet not want the opposite糖心传媒攖he 糖心传媒淲oke,糖心传媒� and to-a-fault 糖心传媒渘on-offensive糖心传媒� ones to exist alongside. These are not brilliant observations, just expressing a desire for honest shithousery in modern discourse: If you糖心传媒檙e gonna be shitty, at least be honest about being shitty.

[4] 糖心传媒溙切拇綐Nicknames,糖心传媒� said Wendell, 糖心传媒榞ive away the whole drama of man. They fall into many classes; the three most current are: those we invent to make a person what he should be糖心传媒攐r names of persuasion; those we invent to make him appear as he is not糖心传媒攐r names of cunning, and those we invent to more tightly wrap him in that which he is, and these are as various as our opinion of the person involved. Let us call them nicknames o f opinion. Take my own case,糖心传媒� he continued, 糖心传媒榝or philosophy, like charity, should begin at home. Let us tell then, the story of your mother糖心传媒檚 first reactions to your humble servant, and we shall have a case in hand. It will instruct you in the nicest turns and twists of such games, for and against, that you can think of, to say nothing of the abundant humours therein involved. It will be more to the point,糖心传媒� he added, 糖心传媒榯han whole dissertations on nature, and will round out the inevitable end as you know it.

糖心传媒楧uring this soliloquy, heed well what she does, and what she does not call me, for therein lies the whole mad obscurity of the female heart. Observe where she might have mocked and did not, where again she might have placated and forbore, how, again, she might have had me swollen with pride, and spake not the word. Indeed, she might have said a number of things糖心传媒攂ut, enough!糖心传媒�

[5] I have at least two chapters that I糖心传媒檓 dying to share. Hang tight.

[6] From Barnes糖心传媒檚 foreword: 糖心传媒淭his book, owing to censorship, which has a vogue in America as indiscriminate as all such enforcements of law must be, has been expurgated. [. . .] Hithertofore the public has been offered literature only after it was no longer literature. Or so murdered and so discreetly bound in linens that those regarding it have seldom, if ever, been aware, or discovered, that that which they took for an original was indeed a reconstruction.糖心传媒�