/lit/ - Literature

most interesting non-philosopher thinkers?

>Started a cult
>Volunteered to be sacrificed by his cult
>Beat off over his dead mom
>Wrote pornography in his free time

>>13657116

I write dark surrealist shit. Curious what others might think of it.

Hooded figures surround me armed with butcher knives. I cannot fight them off and so instinctively cowered. I didn’t beg for my life but kept repeating to them “Why?” while they kept coming close. As they raised their instruments I couldn’t see anything remotely human about them such as fingernails or eyes. Where there was no cloth and there should be flesh it would be blackness. They plunged their tools into me and it all went black.
White hot light burns my eyes to waken. A sterile blue room with mirrors everywhere is all I see. I am tied down and cannot see my body. Blurry movement to my left side, a mirror appear to rotate open and a hooded figure clad in white and black walks towards my immobilized being. It is in that moment where I realize I cannot speak or even scream. The figure eyes my body, I still cannot see their eyes, and then gives a head nod to an unknown voyeur. It goes black again.
Wind and traffic noise awakens me for the last time. I am standing up while surrounded by the skyline. I look down and see protrusions all over me like a Stegosaurus hybrid. I scream and my voice has been replaced by a siren. I try to run yet see no clear exit but keep running anyway towards more sky. There is no floor. I fall. I can’t stop screaming. There is a tall building in my path and my screams keep rising in pitch. I crash into a building. My blood is flames and I see myself fall away.

I write dark surrealist shit. Curious what others might think of it.

Hooded figures surround me armed with butcher knives. I cannot fight them off and so instinctively cowered. I didn’t beg for my life but kept repeating to them “Why?” while they kept coming close. As they raised their instruments I couldn’t see anything remotely human about them such as fingernails or eyes. Where there was no cloth and there should be flesh it would be blackness. They plunged their tools into me and it all went black.
White hot light burns my eyes to waken. A sterile blue room with mirrors everywhere is all I see. I am tied down and cannot see my body. Blurry movement to my left side, a mirror appear to rotate open and a hooded figure clad in white and black walks towards my immobilized being. It is in that moment where I realize I cannot speak or even scream. The figure eyes my body, I still cannot see their eyes, and then gives a head nod to an unknown voyeur. It goes black again.
Wind and traffic noise awakens me for the last time. I am standing up while surrounded by the skyline. I look down and see protrusions all over me like a Stegosaurus hybrid. I scream and my voice has been replaced by a siren. I try to run yet see no clear exit but keep running anyway towards more sky. There is no floor. I fall. I can’t stop screaming. There is a tall building in my path and my screams keep rising in pitch. I crash into a building. My blood is flames and I see myself fall away.

Where to start with this perverted French bastard

I love him.

>>12977200
excellent post

Was he the greatest thinker of the 20th century?

was bataille the best interpreter of nietzsche?

>"God, kings, and their sequels have interposed themselves between men and the Earth [...]. The economic history of modern times is dominated by the epic but disappointing effort of fierce men to plunder the riches of the Earth. The Earth has been disemboweled, but men have reaped from her womb above all metal and fire, with which they ceaselessly disembowel each other. The inner incandescence of the Earth not only explodes in the craters of volcanoes; it also glows red and spits out death with its fumes in the metallurgy of all nations."
>"The incandescent reality ofthe Earth's womb cannot be touched and possessed by those who misunderstand it. It is the misunderstanding of the Earth, the forgetting ofthe star on which he lives, the ignorance of the nature of riches, in other words ofthe incandescence that is enclosed within this star, that has made for man an existence at the mercy of the merchandise he produces, the largest part of which is devoted to death. As long as men forget the true nature of terrestrial life, which demands ecstatic drunkenness and splendor, nature can only come to the attention of the accountants and economists of all parties by abandoning them to the most complete results oftheir accounting and economics."

Man, Bataille was a funny bastard

i once heard someone say that bataille was asking the questions that eliade/guenon/evola were trying to answer. will i find this in his fiction, or is it better to look into his non-fiction? anyone know where to start? grateful for any clues from anyone familiar with his stuff, even if you don't agree with what that person said.

>>10904802
>The frenchie bastard is a great prose stylist
You mean the translator.

>>10575871

>>10292394
>he doesn't start with the cavepaintings in Lascaux

Where do I start with this guy?

>>10041229
>reading with the light of fireflies
>not reading by the blinding light of her intact anus at the age of eighteen years

Shiggidy Diggidy Doo Da

>>9659320
>imblying
mate you have to be the worst of plebs to actually think France doesn't have one of the greatest's literally legacies.

>>9553473
why were these people all influenced by Bataille

I fucking love Bataille.

Someone asked about Balzac recently; this guy couldn't answer because, frankly, he was long dead, but he thinks the former (Balzac) topped his game in Sarrasine.
That's an especially seductive opinion to follow up on because our boy George was as messed up as we like and because Sarrasine, unlike Balzac's usual exertions, is short - a novella.

What does /lit/ think of Bataille? Specifically his philosophy.

what do people think of story of the eye?

does it have any merit?

bataille general I guess