Post Prose

[The cat's meow No.6460780]

>In a night so beclamored with the jackal-yapping of coyotes and the cries of owls the howl of that old dog wolf was the one sound they knew to issue from its right form, a solitary lobo, perhaps gray at the muzzle, hung like a marionette from the moon with his long mouth gibbering.

Hoooooooly shit this book

[Anonymous No.6460791]

>>6460780

[Anonymous No.6460835]

>>6460780
Does this count?

[Anonymous No.6460846]

>>6460835
>Does this count?

Fuck, I need to go to sleep. I read the subject and literally thought we were posting instances of "post prose" as in "post-modernism".

[The cat's meow No.6460866]

>>6460791
This is Women and Men, right?

[Anonymous No.6460874]

>>6460866
Yep

[Anonymous No.6460880]

>>6460874
>>6460866
Sorry for the shiity picture, but I can't find a quote anywhere.

[Anonymous No.6460889]

>>6460846
Me too, anon. Me too.
It's an interesting concept actually, let us elaborate

[Anonymous No.6460904]

>>6460889
>let us elaborate

Well, what would "post-prose" even entail? Is it like how McCarthy writes dialogue? Or is it long, seemingly run-on sentences that make sense by the time you reach the end of the sentence?

[Anonymous No.6460917]

>>6460904
greentext stories are post-prose

[Anonymous No.6460921]

>>6460904
I think pure dialogue with nothing else added in (no character distinction, no ", said", no adverbs, no context) would qualify. I wonder if it's doable.

Can't imagine how the other example could possibly work, though.

[Anonymous No.6460925]

okay hold up

i don't know where to post this but

is this butterfly? https://www.youtube.com/user/Eudaletism

[Anonymous No.6460934]

>>6460917
Woah
What a concept
I'm not being ironic

[Anonymous No.6460973]

>>6460921
>I wonder if it's doable.

McCarthy comes close, but he still uses "said" and the like. pic related.

I feel like removing adverbs and not using "said" would only serve to create confusion as to who's talking. Especially during long bits of dialogue. Plus, how would you be able to tell if a character was speaking or thinking?

[Anonymous No.6460982]

>>6460921
It is doable, and William "The Rock" Gaddis already fucking did it

[The cat's meow No.6460987]

>>6460921
>>6460973
You guys are plebs.

>>/lit/thread/S5942874

[Anonymous No.6461015]

>>6460934
>>6460917
Just remove the greentext and imagine it in print form.

Be me.
Be regretting deciding on making that midnight trip to that Mexican place on the way home from work last night.
Entire body is aching from a pain that can be triangulated straight to my lower intestine.
Oh shit.
There is no longer time.
Literally. It feels like time stopped moving to appreciate just how fast this liquid taco was making it's way past my sphincter.
Know that if I lean out of bed I'll roostertail all over my sheets and possibly even the wall.
Fight or flight, motherfucker.
Sit squarely on my ass.
Sitting as straight as possible.
As I shit my pants.
Try to clench my ass cheeks as tightly as possible to somehow regulate the chocolate rain to only my briefs.
But then.
My calculations were off.
Way off.
Didn't factor in the two emergency exits fresh sewage has to take in the event of overflowing.
Shit flows forth from my boxer legs and soak around my legs.
At this point just decide "fuck it".
Get up and track scat all the way to my bathroom.
It's now the afternoon.
I still haven't cleaned it.

[Anonymous No.6463125]

Bump

[Anonymous No.6463159]

>>6460987

Man, I never realized how full of shit he was.

>dfw: Herb: Maybe nothing. I fear it's not for me to decide. The worst thing about irony for me is that it attenuates emotion. "IJ" is at least SUPPOSED to be both funny and very sad.

Yet he talks about in that interview with Germoney how surprised he was at how everybody thought the book was really funny. And come to think of it he lied to Charlie Rose too, there's no fucking way every sentence in IJ is gramatically correct.

[Anonymous No.6463326]

>>6460780
>commas
McCarthy is that you??

[Anonymous No.6463330]

>>6460925
lol no. Looks nothing like her

[Anonymous No.6463351]

I'm a garbage photographer but I have a huge boner for Faulkner

[Anonymous No.6463557]

>
"Dr. Talos leaned toward her as he said this, and it struck me that his face was not only that of a fox (a comparison that was perhaps too easy to make because his bristling reddish eyebrows and sharp nose suggested it at once) but that of a stuffed fox. I have heard those who did for their livelihood say there is no land anywhere in which they can trench without turning up the shards of the past. No matter where the spade turns the soil, it uncovers broken pavements and corroding metal; and scholars write that the kind of sand that artists call polychrome (because flecks of every color are mixed with its whiteness) is actually not sand at all, but the glass of the past, now pounded to powder by aeons of tumbling in the clamorous sea. If there are layers of reality beneath the reality we see, even as there are layers of history beneath the ground we walk upon, then in one of those more profound realities, Dr. Talos's face was a fox's mask on a wall, and I marveled to see it turn and bend now toward the woman, achieving by those motions, which made expression and thought appear to play across it with the shadows of the nose and brows, an amazing and realistic appearance of vivacity."

i enjoyed this series very much

[Anonymous No.6463583]

>>6460780
the fuck is a 'lobo'? google says it's A DC comic character or some singer songwriter

[Anonymous No.6463593]

>>6463583
>beclamored

not a word according to google. I'm being rused

[Anonymous No.6463605]

>>6463583
Spanish for wolf

[Anonymous No.6463610]

>>6463583
spanish for wolf, commonly used in texas too

[Anonymous No.6463626]

>>6463605
>>6463610
This is why reading Mccarthy is probably pointless for me. Won't follow it at all e..g.

>that old dog wolf was the one sound they knew to issue from its right form,

I really don't know what that means, along with beclamored, lobo (until now)

and this is one sentence

[Anonymous No.6463630]

>>6461015
this reads like a noah cicero novel

[Anonymous No.6463756]

>>6463626
It means that the sound of the wolf is the only sound they know the origin of.

[Anonymous No.6463773]

>>6463626
i don't mean this condescendingly but you need to expand your vocabulary. that sentence shouldn't be too difficult. also, if you're fairly young, give it some time. being exposed to more and more people and the way they speak helps a great deal when reading.

[Anonymous No.6463775]

"For the heart, life is simple: it beats for as long as it can. Then it stops."

if that opening sentence doesn't convince you to read 3000 pages of karl ove knausgard then you're lost friend

"When he heard laughter, before he could think or feel anything, his heart would already be beating like he’d sprinted twenty yards. As the beating slowly normalized he’d think of how his heart, unlike him, was safely contained, away from the world, behind bone and inside skin, held by muscles and arteries in its place, carefully off-center, as if to artfully assert itself as source and creator, having grown the chest to hide in and to muffle and absorb—and, later, after innovating the brain and face and limbs, to convert into productive behavior—its uncontrollable, indefensible, unexplainable, embarrassing squeezing of itself."

god damn, I love this sentence. tao lin knows his shit.

"In the early morning on the lake sitting in the stern of the boat with his father rowing; he felt quite sure that he would never die."

this is the first sentence i ever really dug, i think. it's pretty twee but i love it

and some poetry bc i'm a gd rebel:

"I thought I’d abandoned it all
Even my body
And yet this snowy night is cold"

[Anonymous No.6463797]

>>6463773
>>6463756
Didn't get it because he was describing other animals so how could it be the only one?

Realise now my problem was joy understanding beclamored I.e. The other animals merged into a One and we're indistinguishable whereas the dog wolf was the distinct enough to be known >>6463773

[Anonymous No.6463823]

>>6463797
well go fuck yourself then

[Anonymous No.6464829]

>>6463775
shill pls go.

[Anonymous No.6464916]

I considered the immobility demanded from me a duty incumbent on me both in the interests of self-preservation and of God, so as to liberate Him from the embarrassment in which He found Himself owing to the "tested souls." I had formed the opinion - probably not altogether unfounded - that more rays would be lost if I myself moved to and fro (equally when a draft went through the room); as I was then still filled with holy awe towards divine rays because of their high purposes, and being also uncertain as to whether eternity really existed or whether the store of rays might suddenly be exhausted, I considered it my task to prevent any squandering of rays as far as it was in my power. I had also formed the view, influenced by the opinions of the voices continually talking to me in this sense, that a drawing down of "tested souls," so that they should spend themselves totally in my body and thus allow the restoration of God's sole power in the sky, would be much facilitated if I kept my body immobile. I therefore made the almost incredible sacrifice of desisting from every movement and of course from every occupation for several weeks and months, the conversation of voices excepted; this went so far that not even at night did I dare change my position in bed, because the spending of tested souls was to be expected mostly during sleep. I made this sacrifice, although I had already then received some taste of the "half and half" policy which God's omnipotence pursed towards me, but I could not get myself to believe that God harbored really evil intent towards me.

No change in these conditions occurred until the end of 1894 or early 1895. It coincided with another miraculous phenomenon, the "cursed creation-of-a-false-feeling"; this was the name given to it by the voices who recognized the tort intended by it. The constant endeavor of rays to withdraw from me (to "forsake" me) was checked only by the holiness of my purpose which was bound to attract all pure souls or rays, and by my deep and sincere concern about my relation to God and my own situation in life. One started therefore to falsify my own frame of mind through miracles, in order to create the impression of a frivolous human being given only to the pleasures of the moment (to "represent" me as such, compare footnote 62). Such an influence by miracles on one's mood is possible as I have learned by experience, but I am unable to say more as to how it comes about; in order to give the reader an approximate idea I can only use a comparison, and point to the use of morphine which has the effect of producing a relatively serene, in any case indifferent mood, in a person who is harassed by bodily pain or in the throes of a depression.

[Anonymous No.6465773]

A legion of horribles, hundreds in number, half naked or clad in costumes attic or biblical or wardrobed out of a fevered dream with the skins of animals and silk finery and pieces of uniform still tracked with the blood of prior owners, coats of slain dragoons, frogged and braided cavalry jackets, one in a stovepipe hat and one with an umbrella and one in white stockings and a bloodstained wedding veil and some in headgear or cranefeathers or rawhide helmets that bore the horns of bull or buffalo and one in a pigeontailed coat worn backwards and otherwise naked and one in the armor of a Spanish conquistador, the breastplate and pauldrons deeply dented with old blows of mace or sabre done in another country by men whose very bones were dust and many with their braids spliced up with the hair of other beasts until they trailed upon the ground and their horses' ears and tails worked with bits of brightly colored cloth and one whose horse's whole head was painted crimson red and all the horsemen's faces gaudy and grotesque with daubings like a company of mounted clowns, death hilarious, all howling in a barbarous tongue and riding down upon them like a horde from a hell more horrible yet than the brimstone land of Christian reckoning, screeching and yammering and clothed in smoke like those vaporous beings in regions beyond right knowing where the eye wanders and the lip jerks and drools.