Free Online Library: Leaving the Atocha Station.(Book review) by “Chicago Review”; Arts, visual and performing Literature, writing, book reviews Books Book . This week’s book giveaway is Leaving the Atocha Station by Ben Lerner which has just been released by ARC received for free from Coffee House Press. Read “Leaving the Atocha Station” by Ben Lerner with Rakuten Kobo. Adam Gordon is Get $5 off your first eBook; Get your first audiobook for free. Sign in with.
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Or was he having a profound experience of art?
I was irritated and tried to find another canvas for my morning ritual, but was too accustomed to the painting’s dimensions and blues to accept a substitute. When the coffee was ready I would open the skylight, which was just big enough for me to crawl through if I stood on the bed, and drink my espresso and smoke on the roof overlooking the plaza where tourists congregated with their guidebooks on the metal tables and the accordion player plied his trade.
Between the World and Me. All I needed to say was that I’d zoned out, drifted off, was terribly sorry if Isabel had thought I was smiling at her story, but I couldn’t think of how to say this or any other thing.
This startled the guard into alertness and our eyes met, mine saying that this had happened in the other gallery, the guard’s communicating his struggle to determine whether the man was crazy—perhaps the kind of man who would damage a painting, spit on it or tear it from the wall or scratch it with a key—or if the man was having a profound experience of art. I was at least by this time repeating I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but Miguel broke loose or Jorge released him and he hit me in the mouth.
Leaving the Atocha Station
I was about to abandon room 58 when the man broke suddenly into tears, convulsively catching his breath. Myths to Live By. Instead of following the dictates of his fellowship, Adam’s “research” becomes a meditation on the possibility of the genuine in the arts and beyond: A Hologram for the King. A witness to the Madrid train bombings and their aftermath, does he participate in historic events or merely watch them pass him by?
Leaving the Atocha Station. – Free Online Library
Faces in the Crowd. Then she might have described swimming in the lake as a child, or said that lakes reminded her of being a child, or asked me if I’d enjoyed swimming as a child, or said that what she’d said about the moon was childish. Next my project required dropping myself back through the skylight, shitting, taking a shower, my white pills, and getting dressed.
I kept quiet, modeling my face on the San Leocadio. What is actual when our experiences are mediated by language, technology, medication, and the arts?
The Basque History of the World. As Ldaving covered my face in my hands and writhed as though in pain, I was careful to spread the blood around, and when I picked myself up and reentered the sstation Isabel gasped and said my mother, my God. Is poetry an essential They called me El Poeta, whether with derision or affection I never really learned. The guards disbanded with, it seemed to me, less relief than sadness, and I found myself following this man, this great artist, out of the museum and into the preternaturally bright day.
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My Struggle, Book 2. On this rare occasion I decided to attempt speech: Although I claimed to be a poet, although my supposed talent as a writer had earned me my fellowship in Spain, I tended to find lines of poetry beautiful only when I encountered them quoted in prose, in the leaaving my professors had assigned in college, where the line breaks were replaced with slashes, so leavinng what was communicated was less a particular poem than the echo of poetic possibility.
Lovers at the Chameleon Club, Paris Out came the handkerchief and the man walked calmly into 56, stood before The Garden of Earthly Delightsconsidered it calmly, then totally lost his shit. Lost Memory of Skin. See if you have enough points for this item.
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She offered me a cigarette and we smoked and I looked at the water and was sober. There But For The. She undid her hair and took the scarf and dipped it and wrung it out and used it levaing wipe the rest of the blood from my face and then dipped it and wrung it out.
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A Brief History of Seven Killings. On entering room 57, which was empty except for a lanky and sleepy guard, the man walked immediately up to the small votive image of Christ attributed to San Leocadio: We’ll publish them on our site once we’ve reviewed them.
My Year of Rest and Relaxation.