Poem Brut #131 a€“ exactly why do we require actual Surrealists?
Not long following food, i will be hospitalised, appendicitis, the medical practioners starting her magic while I rest in cardigans, a sleep of white linens, grape-eating and offensively incited. That’s all. I am not saying popular. The fact is Im abhorred. For my dusty neighbours I writhe too poetically, capture their unique ire. Their big-band coughs and rose-gold colostomy bags. All mid-day I push like a snake. But through the night I perch inside my skin.
On Michel Butor
But Butor takes the book’s downright fact in another direction to the people that has lost before him. The guy also stretches and problematizes they, but affected by the phenomenology of their college student days studying approach from the Sorbonne, he was fascinated with the way the novel’s sovereignty over the domain names, and thus over expertise in general, services in terms of the conceptual (and Kantian) coordinates of your event. Читать далее “Poem Brut #131 a€“ exactly why do we require actual Surrealists?”