Nah sport, that anon filtered you. Outside of this board the only people I ever see even so much as mention that book in passing are hipsters trying to make sidelong brags about how esoteric they are. To be completely honest, from what I have seen of the posting of it here I would conjecture the discussions here are mostly conducted by hipsters as well, I am giving benefit of the doubt based on anonymity.
9 months ago
Anonymous
>I'm a homosexual with no friends so I just know it's shit
GR is just easier to relate to because it's more contemporary and it's a comic book for adults so you can frick right off with that hipster nonsense or just makes you look petty and stupid
>comic book for adults
Exactly why hipsters gravitate to it. They want something that provides for their manchild mentality while simultaneously disguising itself as smart. The Grant Morrison of books if you will.
"The name of the hero—or being—was Sundial. The frames never enclosed him—or it—for long enough to tell. Sundial, flashing in, flashing out again, came from "across the wind," by which readers understood "across some flow, more or less sheet and vertical: a wall in constant motion"—over there was a different world, where Sundial took care of business they would never understand)."
Like this hero, the readers of GR are "liminal character", they pass in and out of life, they float on its multidimensional surface, never smothered in it, but also never quite fitting in.
https://pastebin.com/P3rVFrue
I read it at age 29, a postal worker, no higher education. I enjoyed it and got my dad to read Byron the Bulb's story to see if it was just me, but no. He thought it was funny too.
Just came across this post digging through the archives, I liked it so I am posting it here.
>Pynchon gives us Roger and Jessica. That one glimmering bit of hope through it all, no matter how bad things get in the world there is still love because frick the war. But then he takes that away from us, but it is difficult to be angry about it because it is difficult to say Jessica made the wrong choice despite how much of tool Jeremy seems to be. She may love him every bit as much as Roger loves her even if there is no way that Jeremy could ever love Jessica as much as Roger does. But then he takes that away as well, Jessica did not do the right thing, she did not follow her heart or play it safe and make the wiser choice, at best she did the right thing for god and country but she does not seem all the convinced of it. We don't even get Love. What do we get?
>A few chuckles?
>Do you find it funny to be kicked when you are down? Looking at that first half of the 20th century and the wars—what the world and society went through—and it all hurts a hell of a lot more after GR. Seeing how little has changed in the decades since and it hurts even more. We are still recovering, still nursing that broken heart for dear old Jessica, despite it all. Could she actually be corrupted? Is she as pure as Roger thinks and blind to the pain she caused, can only see the greater good? Do we still have love?
>The way Pynchon wraps everything around this simple little love story that only makes up a tiny portion of the book is remarkably effective and frick, it really does hurt. What is left? Are we all just cogs in the machine fulfilling our role right down to the basics that define us? or we thought defined us. Do we even get love?
I wrote this. If memory serves this was at the tail end of a stint of Roger and Jessica posting which started in a Gracq thread where I threatened to pee on Pynchon. I never repeated the threat to pee on Pynchon in the later Roger and Jessica posts, I was mostly lashing out at the state of IQfy and not Pynchon but I am still angry about Roger and Jessica and have been for many years now.
Found the instigating post, it was an Opposing Shore thread and it more a vow then a threat. Good times.
Even Pynchon, whose characters have as much agency as a set of chessmen, gives us more, he at least gives us Roger and Jessica. That one glimmering bit of hope through it all. I know there is wilde love and joy enough in the world, as there are wilde Thyme, and other herbes; but we would have garden love, and garden joy, of Gods owne planting. But then he takes it all away and he waits until we are at our lowest. He does not just let us have that she made the right choice, the safe choice, that she was being sensible—lets face it, Roger is not exactly marriage material—he rips our hearts out through our buttholes and does not even use lube. YOU SAID THEY WERE IN LOVE! FRICK THE WAR! Tom, if we ever meet, I promise you that I will not run dry like your boy Rog.
Queneau, Queneau. He was riding the bus when he saw a man in out dated fashions then later he saw that same man getting berated by another man for his outdated fashions. I loved that man for his outdated fashion, I hated him, I laughed at him, I pitied him, I despised him, I got an erection and I have no clue why and frankly it confuses the hell out me.
Brautigan made me cry over a errant hair and the memory of a fleeting touch while writing like a 9th grader in creative writing.
But Gracq in The Opposing Shore gave us Aldo, a clammy and limp handshake with the personality to match.
But Gracq in Balcony in the Forest gave us Grange, who is kind of an Aldo but is aware, he knows he is missing something and he wants to find it what ever it is. Anyone with half the self awareness of Grange will see themselves in Grange and it hurts. And he gave us Mona, squatting there in the mud and the rain so intently studying something, so young and pure despite it all. She is everything that Jessica was for Roger and she was the real deal despite it all. Frick the war. And Grange's dream, really knowing what it is to be alive, to have finally found it even if you do not know what it is. And on every page that imaginary line that is not so imaginary—or is it?—looming over the novel, getting closer and closer. and you fear it and what is coming but are also excited by it and everything that is going on. And that ending, frick you Grange, I hate you, I love you, I understand you and really I hate myself because I know I could not do what you did even if you were being selfish. Frick.
Gracq was an amazing writer but The Opposing Shore is far from his best, just his most notorious and well known. Balcony in the Forest makes a connection and the point.
I hate when losers pretend to have read a book and unspool with their adhd pharma induced rushing. No one thinks you did more than scan a few pages, idiot. Take it elsewhere. You'll pass better on goodreads or r/books.
weird guys
cute grills
who
is her hand deformed
Everyone here pre-2015. And maybe some dudes in postgrad degrees on some experimental field.
possibly the dumbest thing i've read in two weeks
More like undergrads who are too hipster for the classics. That and midwit teenagers.
Sounds like you were filtered hahaha
Cope
It's okay, it's not for most people.
2 midwits got butthurt lol.
He says crying because he doesn't understand a book
Cope chud. Your whole personality is based on defending this garbage lmao.
You're just dumb
Nah sport, that anon filtered you. Outside of this board the only people I ever see even so much as mention that book in passing are hipsters trying to make sidelong brags about how esoteric they are. To be completely honest, from what I have seen of the posting of it here I would conjecture the discussions here are mostly conducted by hipsters as well, I am giving benefit of the doubt based on anonymity.
>I'm a homosexual with no friends so I just know it's shit
that post wasnt made by F.Gardner
Seethe and cope.
>GR
>esoteric
lol. moron.
Console war homosexualry.
real
GR is just easier to relate to because it's more contemporary and it's a comic book for adults so you can frick right off with that hipster nonsense or just makes you look petty and stupid
>comic book for adults
Exactly why hipsters gravitate to it. They want something that provides for their manchild mentality while simultaneously disguising itself as smart. The Grant Morrison of books if you will.
Its like 800 straight pages of green text copypasta
You could say that about Ulysses
Nope. You could but it'd be wrong.
And I do.
And you would be a fricking moron to say that
"The name of the hero—or being—was Sundial. The frames never enclosed him—or it—for long enough to tell. Sundial, flashing in, flashing out again, came from "across the wind," by which readers understood "across some flow, more or less sheet and vertical: a wall in constant motion"—over there was a different world, where Sundial took care of business they would never understand)."
Like this hero, the readers of GR are "liminal character", they pass in and out of life, they float on its multidimensional surface, never smothered in it, but also never quite fitting in.
https://pastebin.com/P3rVFrue
huh
Reminder that none of you gays would have the balls to send a comedian as yourself to a national literary award.
i have a whole list of people i'm planning to send homie
i was thinking of sending a homeless fella
Libtards send activists to collect prizes all the time (Marlon Brando, Miley Cyrus etc.)
so?
That’s a ww2 Nazi A4 missile
People that browsed IQfy ten years ago.
I read it at age 29, a postal worker, no higher education. I enjoyed it and got my dad to read Byron the Bulb's story to see if it was just me, but no. He thought it was funny too.
Strange post
Did you ever get a Tristero tattoo?
Byron between my shoulder blades. Almost no one knows I have it.
Nice.
make it stop =(
>not getting a tattoo of the rocket that has gottfried in it
but why
Here's mine. Only real GR fans will know.
>what kind of person reads this?
holy cringe
me
a twink gay(me)
Just came across this post digging through the archives, I liked it so I am posting it here.
>Pynchon gives us Roger and Jessica. That one glimmering bit of hope through it all, no matter how bad things get in the world there is still love because frick the war. But then he takes that away from us, but it is difficult to be angry about it because it is difficult to say Jessica made the wrong choice despite how much of tool Jeremy seems to be. She may love him every bit as much as Roger loves her even if there is no way that Jeremy could ever love Jessica as much as Roger does. But then he takes that away as well, Jessica did not do the right thing, she did not follow her heart or play it safe and make the wiser choice, at best she did the right thing for god and country but she does not seem all the convinced of it. We don't even get Love. What do we get?
>A few chuckles?
>Do you find it funny to be kicked when you are down? Looking at that first half of the 20th century and the wars—what the world and society went through—and it all hurts a hell of a lot more after GR. Seeing how little has changed in the decades since and it hurts even more. We are still recovering, still nursing that broken heart for dear old Jessica, despite it all. Could she actually be corrupted? Is she as pure as Roger thinks and blind to the pain she caused, can only see the greater good? Do we still have love?
>The way Pynchon wraps everything around this simple little love story that only makes up a tiny portion of the book is remarkably effective and frick, it really does hurt. What is left? Are we all just cogs in the machine fulfilling our role right down to the basics that define us? or we thought defined us. Do we even get love?
Seems cringe and painful only to those with delusions of grandeur.p
What are you even trying to say?
I wrote this. If memory serves this was at the tail end of a stint of Roger and Jessica posting which started in a Gracq thread where I threatened to pee on Pynchon. I never repeated the threat to pee on Pynchon in the later Roger and Jessica posts, I was mostly lashing out at the state of IQfy and not Pynchon but I am still angry about Roger and Jessica and have been for many years now.
Found the instigating post, it was an Opposing Shore thread and it more a vow then a threat. Good times.
Even Pynchon, whose characters have as much agency as a set of chessmen, gives us more, he at least gives us Roger and Jessica. That one glimmering bit of hope through it all. I know there is wilde love and joy enough in the world, as there are wilde Thyme, and other herbes; but we would have garden love, and garden joy, of Gods owne planting. But then he takes it all away and he waits until we are at our lowest. He does not just let us have that she made the right choice, the safe choice, that she was being sensible—lets face it, Roger is not exactly marriage material—he rips our hearts out through our buttholes and does not even use lube. YOU SAID THEY WERE IN LOVE! FRICK THE WAR! Tom, if we ever meet, I promise you that I will not run dry like your boy Rog.
Queneau, Queneau. He was riding the bus when he saw a man in out dated fashions then later he saw that same man getting berated by another man for his outdated fashions. I loved that man for his outdated fashion, I hated him, I laughed at him, I pitied him, I despised him, I got an erection and I have no clue why and frankly it confuses the hell out me.
Brautigan made me cry over a errant hair and the memory of a fleeting touch while writing like a 9th grader in creative writing.
But Gracq in The Opposing Shore gave us Aldo, a clammy and limp handshake with the personality to match.
But Gracq in Balcony in the Forest gave us Grange, who is kind of an Aldo but is aware, he knows he is missing something and he wants to find it what ever it is. Anyone with half the self awareness of Grange will see themselves in Grange and it hurts. And he gave us Mona, squatting there in the mud and the rain so intently studying something, so young and pure despite it all. She is everything that Jessica was for Roger and she was the real deal despite it all. Frick the war. And Grange's dream, really knowing what it is to be alive, to have finally found it even if you do not know what it is. And on every page that imaginary line that is not so imaginary—or is it?—looming over the novel, getting closer and closer. and you fear it and what is coming but are also excited by it and everything that is going on. And that ending, frick you Grange, I hate you, I love you, I understand you and really I hate myself because I know I could not do what you did even if you were being selfish. Frick.
Gracq was an amazing writer but The Opposing Shore is far from his best, just his most notorious and well known. Balcony in the Forest makes a connection and the point.
I hate when losers pretend to have read a book and unspool with their adhd pharma induced rushing. No one thinks you did more than scan a few pages, idiot. Take it elsewhere. You'll pass better on goodreads or r/books.
intellectuals & people that have a very hard time enjoying conventional happiness
In general? Pseuds
Anyone who’s studying an english-lit course at university
getting filtered by GR then having the gall to seriously post on IQfy is fricking embarrassing
Me