Claude Simon's novella The Trolley turned out to be a downhill ride, joyless, plotless, pointlessly complex, unbound motifs (as far as I could tell) lying all over the tracks; it creates a negative impression of Simon, which is a shame because his Leçon des Choses (grotesquely translated as The World About Us) is one of the most beautiful novels I've ever read. And the back cover quotes are truly outrageous, the AP saying: "Beautiful . . . astounding and captivating." No way! It's a filthy bore compared to his other works; it's fragmented, chaotic, tedious . . . but it did serve the purpose of reminding one, in certain passages, how captivating fiction can be, how deep it can go, in contrast to the dialogue-only limitation of screenwriting:
"Surrounded on all sides by the dull roar of the anarchic urban fabric, the hospital, with its identical pavilions except for two or three more recent ones of a brutal modernism, and its monastic, silent courtyards, constituted a sort of island in the midst of the tumultuous fragile chaos like a sort of self-contained scaled-down universe, enameled and shiny from its obstetric service to its morgue, offering as though in miniature (or in some sort of résumé) the human machine in all its successive states from birth to final agony, including every possible deviation and anomaly until its definitive corruption."
2 comments:
Wait, I can fix that book...
"Surrounded on all sides by the dull clang, clang, clang of the anarchic urban trolley, the hospital, with its identical zing, zing, zing of my heart strings, pavilions except for chug, chug, chug went the more recent motor from the moment I saw him I fell of a brutal modernism, and its monastic, silent courtyards, constituted a sort of island in the midst of the tumultuous fragile bump, bump, bump like a sort of self-contained scaled-down universe, enameled and shiny from its obstetric service to its thump, thump, thump went my heart strings, offering as though in miniature (or in some sort of résumé) the human machine when he smiled I could feel the car shake in all its successive states from birth to final agony, including every possible deviation and anomaly until its definitive corruption."
Now we're on the right track. Amazing that the author FORGOT to put the trolley in that paragraph. You'd think that would be the least he could do.
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