They Were Two Superior Eels

Making Is Always A Slightly Hopeful Thing Because Once You've Made Something, It'll - The World Will Be Different.

Blessed Be They Whose Lives Do Not Taste Of Evilbut If Some God Shakes Your Houseruin Arrivesruin Does Not Leaveit Comes Tolling Over The Generationsit Comes Rolling The Black Night Salt Up From The Ocean Floorand All Your Thrashed Coasts Groan

Novels Institutionalize The Ruse Of Eros. It Becomes A Narrative Texture Of Sustained Incongruence, Emotional And Cognitive. It Permits The Reader To Stand In Triangular Relation To The Characters In The Story And Reach Into The Text After The Objects Of Their Desire, Sharing Their Longing But Also Detached From It, Seeing Their View Of Reality But Also Its Mistakenness. It Is Almost Like Being In Love.

[short Talk On Sylvia Plath] Did You See Her Mother On Television? She Said Plain, Burned Things. She Said I Thought It An Excellent Poem But It Hurt Me. She Did Not Say Jungle Fear. She Did Not Say Jungle Hatred Wild Jungle Weeping Chop It Back Chop It. She Said Self-government She Said End Of The Road. She Did Not Say Humming In The Middle Of The Air What You Came For Chop.

My Religion Makes No Sense And Does Not Help Me Therefore I Pursue It.