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/lit/ - Literature

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11856421 No.11856421[DELETED]  [Reply] [Original]

Is My Twisted World actually worth reading?

>> No.11856424 [SPOILER] 
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11856424

>>11856421
no

>> No.11856434

No, he just rambles about his personal life and his ideology (which is very boring and ill-thought). He was very delusional.

>> No.11856438

>>11856421
yes. it's literary kino.

>> No.11856439

Nah, it's very self-absorbed and boring.

>> No.11856446

>>11856421
Depends on how much you like hearing about him not being able to get a date.

>> No.11856449

>>11856421
NO, we must defend dried roasts at all costs, they will always laugh at us but we must defend the VAGINA.

>> No.11856450

>>11856446
Can you imagine this being how people remember you?

>> No.11856574

>>11856421
it has quite a few hilarious moments but most of it is just boring and poorly written

>> No.11856678

>>11856421
No. It’s too autistic.

Rambles inward. Nothing useful to get out of it. More an endurance jog which lasts too long than any form of pleasure or exercise. Writing is bad, too.

>> No.11856706

>>11856421
Sure.As long you take it as a memoir of someone who ostensibly belongs in the bottom of the sexual market, and not as some grand work of fiction

>> No.11856717

>>11856421
>basement incel asks a cutie out
>she says no
>he writes big manifest about society

what do you think, op?

>> No.11856725
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11856725

>>11856717
>implying elliot ever even asked a girl out

>> No.11856849

>>11856421
No its impossibly boring and mundane

>> No.11856925

>>11856678
>Writing is bad, too.
What do you expect? His favorite novels were written by GRRM and he was a hapa

>> No.11857028

>>11856421
His writing style isn't so bad but content-wise it's trash. Plain stupid and cringeworthy.

>> No.11857067

Is it funny?

>> No.11857331

>>11857067
His writing style is stilted and he tends to ramble. The only funny part is where he's crying in the hallway while he hears his sister getting fucked.

>> No.11857404

>>11856421
It reads like a literal parody, it's funny if you like /r9k/ I guess.

Just watch this summary instead
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4TVTm5xfvjk

>> No.11857409

If you're sincerely interested in St. Elliot, I recommend Mumkey's videos on the matter as an introduction
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FLUzf9H10c

>> No.11857411

>>11856421
Of course not. It sounds like a My Chemical Romance song.

>> No.11857418
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11857418

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0N88Lqg8Wc

>> No.11857497

It is absolutely worth reading, and whether or not he was a "good writer", he successively created a valuable work. He had a knack for fingering the interesting parts of his life and their dramatic arrangement (or arranging them so as to make them dramatically vital). You might say it only appears so as a by-effect of his exhaustive report of that life, or conversely that any semblance of narrative focus is illusory and caused by the paucity of his experience and obsessive repetition of its few and invariant events, the latter becoming a retarded incantation that conjures a story.

But I don't quite agree with that, for two reasons. One, the supposed inherent interest of the story isn't there; the end result looms in the most superficial sense; the journal does not depict the slow decay of a normal person's foundation, his "twisting" toward the final act. One could arrive at a sense of greater consequence or scale in the developing towards that event only by the (correct) superimposition of the broader forces which motivate, or rather compel, or better yet become too accumulated in him; but that's an assumed notion, it's not really him or rather what is presented of him, which through his filter becomes vacuous from the outset.

And that's the real looming horror of the book: the manner in which it depicts the final act not as the culmination of mounting depravity, but another repercussion of an impoverishment stretching back to infancy; the way his reductive (reduced) psychology encompasses his narrative and thus reduces it in kind, from childhood, especially tragic as he attempts, with the terms afforded by his ingrained, patterned, abortive thought processes, to describe childhood as a different and more living time. This is the most disturbing aspect of the book; the final act, meanwhile, rather than a black cloud hanging over all is like a fine mist spread across the floor, every floor, throughout the book, perhaps occasionally flashing as if reflecting lightning.

Second, I don't agree that the peculiar quality of the book is entirely accidental because, fittingly as it isn't charged (or even primarily qualified) by the final act, it's success is in the manner the mundanity of his life, by arrangement or individual descriptions, evoke the pathetic--as in pathos. It goes without saying this effect arises in part from a coordination of his life described with aspects of the reader's--such is a mere mechanism of literature--but the observation does relate closely to another of the book's qualities, novelty though it may be: there aren't many, or any, no, I think there is no book that describes this life, in this time, with these furnishings, while so many lead it and it appears so close to something like a sad and horrid fate for all mankind-

It contains too many indelible images, too much of an acute sense of a life, of a kind of being, to not have its due in the labels art and literature.

>> No.11857521

I remember someone posted some excerpt in which he doused some people with juice using a watergun and then ran away, it was kind of funny.

>> No.11857555

I liked the part where he was drunk and tried to push a girl off the roof of a fraternity house, so they pushed him off and he broke his ankle.
Then he realized he forgot his designer sunglasses and tried to go back into the party and got his ass kicked.

>> No.11857569

>>11857555
That part is so surreal. Him just walking into a random party and trying to push a girl off a roof. That should be an entire book, a serial autist going into a student town on weekday nights and walking into strangers' house parties.

>> No.11857581

religionconfidencetrick blog had an eyeopening take on it

>> No.11857584

>>11857555
>>11857569
doing everything you can to be a downer to everyone else and still being mad at everyone else

>> No.11857589

>>11857584
Stfu faggot.

>> No.11857593

>>11856421
Is there any book for people like me who relate heavily with him but aren’t violent and realize the problem is with themselves and not the world around them so they redirect all of that hate and anger at themselves?

>> No.11857596

>>11856421
Yes, definitely.
It's quite depressing to see how poor of a writer he was, and what empty shit he derived meaning from. As well as all of the mistakes of the parents in raising him in such a dystopian shithole.
Says quite a bit about our age.

>> No.11857597

>>11857569
>>11857555
that was my favorite part by far, it's like a dream or something, i was actually dying with laughter during a lot of it

his manifesto is like the greatest shitpost of all time

>> No.11857625

>>11857589
NANI????!!

>> No.11857631

>>11857593

http://religionconfidencetrick.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-paradox-of-child-happiness.html

http://religionconfidencetrick.blogspot.com/2014/11/lowlife-men-are-huge-problem-for-society.html

>> No.11857644

>>11857584
An unintentional spectre of modern social collapse bumming normies out by subliminally reminding them of their genetic (non-autistic) privilege under sexual capitalism.
>>11857597
Another good part

>I found out from stalking random people on Facebook that there was going to be a huge house party in West Hills. I decided to take a big leap forward and attend this house party, even though I wouldn’t know anybody there. I had nothing to lose, and it would give me more of a chance of meeting girls than if I stayed in my room all night.
>Because I couldn’t drive, I had to walk all the way there, and it took 45 minutes. When I got there, I was overcome by anxiety, but I couldn’t back out at that point. I paid the entry fee of $5 and walked right in. To my dismay, the party was smaller than I expected. All of the kids were smoking marijuana, and they all seemed to know each other. It would only be a matter of time before they detected that I was an outcast.
>I stood around awkwardly for a few minutes before giving up and walking home. On the way home, just as I was about to reach my mother’s house, a group of four young thugs drove by me in a pick-up truck and proceeded to throw eggs at me, laughing while they did it. They seemed intoxicated, and they missed me. I picked up one of the shells and threw it right back into their car. I was no longer a weak little kid who would take a hit without fighting back. I was stronger now. They got out of their car and tried to attack me, and they would have beaten me bloody if I didn’t pull out my trusty pocket knife, which I usually carried when I walked alone by myself. Thankfully, the thugs backed away and drove off. Perhaps it was the knife, or the look of extreme hatred in my eyes. I quickly ran home, terrified. It was an unsuccessful and misfortunate night.

>> No.11857646

He's an awful writer with no sense of perspective or self-awareness but it's a fascinating insight. Reminded me slightly too much of myself for comfort.

>> No.11857647

>>11857593
Mumkey Jones youtube channel