/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.18660994]

im on page 130 when does the violence start. did you faggots and /tv/ lie to me?

[Anonymous No.18661021]

>he fell for it
enjoy the tortillas

[Anonymous No.18661023]

>>18660994
Is that really the book cover?

How could you look at that and take it seriously?

[Anonymous No.18661036]

>>18660994
The violence is like 20 or 30 pages of the book.

[Anonymous No.18661110]

>>18661036
what? where the kid joins that company and they get slaughtered? thats pretty much the only violence thats happened so far and everyone claims the book was 90% nothing but violence and debauchery

[Anonymous No.18661120]

>>18660994
And then he rode and then he took the tortilla and then he took the coffee and then he drank the coffee and then he crumbled up the tortilla and then he put the tortilla into the coffee cup and then he used the tortilla as a moist maker and then the tortilla was slathered in the leftover coffee and then he ate the tortilla and then he rode on and then he scalped an indian

[Anonymous No.18661133]

>>18661110
no man it's just ominous and the violence is quick and brutal and not spectacular, just like irl.

[Anonymous No.18661135]

>>18661120
Mexican*

[Anonymous No.18661136]

>>18661110
Many Blood Meridian fans are somewhat myopic and fixate.

[Anonymous No.18661226]

>>18661021
And the haciendas

[Anonymous No.18661231]

>>18661120
Is this an excerpt from McCarthy's BM2?

[Anonymous No.18661255]

>>18661226
These places are great ngl

[Anonymous No.18661283]

The kid gets into a knife fight a few pages in

[Anonymous No.18661413]

>>18661023
That is a fan cover for the potential movie I think.

[Anonymous No.18661434]

They rode now the company did through swift trailing scrublands as the desert hyenas following behind half lost on foot, falling grape rain down from the Heavens like strange nightshade ocean spray with lapping furor of the Almighty, each man a sort of shrouded fever dream wraith, riding both day and night across the starlit forbidance of clay and pumice and sweet alien air. Horses hooves clipping at the barren land beneath them and everywhere was dust. Tufts of Indian Pete moss and harsh scrapped sampling of blackberry bushels, local fauna alike, springing out and doting the hearty pecos landscape that now burst fully upon their collective ethos with an exhubersnce and a continence not of this time. The gang simmered and stopped again for camp. Glanton, half nude from his wainscoat, sporting a new sort of stove pipe hat and sitting back on his horse like some inert virtuous Zoraster, spat something fierce, a great biles of Flem and mucus emerging from his larynx and splashing out in portered oversized pools and somehow effortlessly cooling in the dessert night sand at his horse’s feet as the Kid watched. No one moved. The judge, while minding his keep of journals and field books dome distance yonder did seek out fleeting solace in the company of one if not two nightly tiny Mexican souvernwr cigerellos, his puffed lips pursing lightly as he kissed and nibbled softly at the lit ‘bacco leaves of foreign lands, both attic and in terrorem complete. The same sultanism applied here loosely now with the company though their faces rarely observe it as such. One of the Mexican guides, a half-wit 19 year old with pallet cleft and pricked ears, did speak wearily at Glanton as they reached the summit. They were three days out from Bexar. Maybe four.

hombre, vamos a hacer algo. todo lo que hacemos es caminar por el desierto mirando bebés muertos.

Glanton regarded the Mexican’s questionwith disdain while observing through a newly fashioned telescope a group of Delewares some five clicks yonder.

Si. Manana. said Glanton back at the Mexican.

The company rode on, sleeping sometimes two at a time on Pueblo encampment orphanages long forgotten by time, ancient infinite horrors of some missing race of persons not yet long for this world. Mummified short boned Pueblos and their kin, some remains like obtuse miniaturized leviathans, Sphinx-like in purpose, sitting now proper right and calmly watching back at the company who passed before them.

They rode down a trail. They road through some brush. A mule succumbed to dypsteria and everyday there crept at their shadows thin wolves. The company stopped and watered at the request of Toadvine that Sunday mid morning and regrouped. Toadvine and the Kid spent the day at nearby bar foraging for mescal and great monstrous steaming heapings of beans and tortillas.

[Anonymous No.18662018]

>>18661120
https://vocaroo.com/18XNZdfH9ku8

[Anonymous No.18662111]

>>18661023
Easily. Because I measure a book on the contents within and not based on what the cover looks like. Writers are writers, not artists.

[Anonymous No.18662120]

>>18662018
>https://vocaroo.com/18XNZdfH9ku8
Kek.

[Anonymous No.18662173]

>you can't be full Mexican, It's like being full mongrel
Mexibros...

[Anonymous No.18662257]

>>18662018
>>18662120
Can you read 'legion of horribles' please?

[Anonymous No.18662269]

>>18662255
>niggerblack
My sides

[Anonymous No.18662271]

They rode until sunset then stopped in a chaparral to make a fire in an arroyo next to a cordillera atop a caldera. They sat in silence for some time, gazing out at the tortillas and haciendas and coal miners, niggerblack from coaldust. The expriest Tobin opened his exbible and sang some exhymns. Glanton spat. They ate a dinner of cornmeal and bacon fat fried in a cast iron pan the Judge forged in a furnace made from one of the mexican’s skulls, bleached white now made niggerblack from the coals. Glanton spat and punched a little girl in the ribs so hard you could hear the bones snap like dried tortillas falling from an arroyo.

[Anonymous No.18662325]

>>18662255
https://voca.ro/1aMmtbBrl9eQ

[Anonymous No.18662342]

>>18662325
Dude I’m fucking dying. Well done.

[Anonymous No.18662348]

>>18662257
write a parody of it

[Anonymous No.18662353]

>>18662325
fuck this is killing me haha

[Anonymous No.18662406]

>>18660994
page 131

[Anonymous No.18662516]

>>18660994
It's nonstop violence, are you literate?

[Anonymous No.18662553]

By noon they had reached the summit and then they rode back down into arroyo and through a forest of scrub and bristlebrush and then a forest of pine and through another arroyo and back up some bluffs that turned to buttes and then down again past a caldera into an ancient arroyo that had long since dried and through a desert and up a mountain pass into another forest of yucca and forded a stream and down back into a desert finally arriving at the arroyo where they would make camp that night. The Delawares had returned with a possum and two squirrels and half a deer and a jackrabbit and a buffalo. As they fixed to make a cookfire with oakwood and bristlebrush, the Judge showed Toadvine and the kid the sketches he had made in his journal. A troop of crude stick figures in ten gallon hats riding horses, drawn as big fat ovals with little ovals for heads and triangle ears. Men and horses all wore a smile save for the one at the back, whom the Judge had labeled Tobin. Stick Tobin grimaced as he shoved a cross into his backside, and his ovalhorse defecated into his mouth.

I don’t rightly reckon the Judge is too fond a that feller, Toadvine advised the kid. Glanton spat. The Judge then stripped naked and read the name of every man and woman who had ever lived as the company ate buffalo biscuits and squirrel gravy.

[Anonymous No.18663094]

>>18660994
tabernacle

[Anonymous No.18663206]

OP here, just finished the story about judge and the volcano. pretty kino. i hope toadvine gets more played as the book goes on. i love that earless nigga like you wouldnt believe

[Anonymous No.18663224]

>>18663206
more play*

[Anonymous No.18663289]

>>18662553

[Anonymous No.18663795]

>>18661120
I’m only doing the audiobook and I already feel cheated

[Anonymous No.18665405]

bump

[Anonymous No.18665413]

>>18662111
>Writers are writers, not artists.
LMAO