the pharaoh keychain on my windshield wiper
I've just finished I Have the Right to Destroy Myself and I'm bwuh-ing like whoaaaaa. I love the narrator; I can't figure out his mind and even on the first page you can see his brilliance and I'm wondering why he hasn't got a freaking job since he seems so dedicated-like scouring through the library and omg-so-boring articles for people to kill - er, artistically destroy, but destroy isn't actually a suitable word, maybe more like artistically support and/or facilitate decision to destroy self - and then oh, right, artist. An artist's passion shouldn't create passion - interesting, Young-Ha Kim.
He doesn't even think of that as killing, and maybe it isn't; he even talks about respect to his clients and I'm wondering whether he killed them to help them, because he doesn't seem like a bad guy and he probably gives good advice, a step up from your average psychologist, but then again did he kill them just so he can write this book he regards as art and wants no royalty for and er wow I'm freaked? But it's a wonder how he can be so professional and have, like, zero emotional investment and just wow I wanna meet this man but then again I don't. And the characters in this novel, they are all so detached and just floating floating along trying to find something they don't know and well it's not going anywhere and there's this guy who forgot that he was having sex when he's in there, and er, wow.
I don't see the point of this book. And because of that I don't know how I feel about this book, actually. But it was an interesting read, something I'd definitely pick up again.
And I actually looked up the pictures he referenced because my art knowledge is horribly horribly limited and that's pretty awesome interpretation right there. But is it just me or does Klimt's Judith look like Marilyn Monroe?
He doesn't even think of that as killing, and maybe it isn't; he even talks about respect to his clients and I'm wondering whether he killed them to help them, because he doesn't seem like a bad guy and he probably gives good advice, a step up from your average psychologist, but then again did he kill them just so he can write this book he regards as art and wants no royalty for and er wow I'm freaked? But it's a wonder how he can be so professional and have, like, zero emotional investment and just wow I wanna meet this man but then again I don't. And the characters in this novel, they are all so detached and just floating floating along trying to find something they don't know and well it's not going anywhere and there's this guy who forgot that he was having sex when he's in there, and er, wow.
I don't see the point of this book. And because of that I don't know how I feel about this book, actually. But it was an interesting read, something I'd definitely pick up again.
And I actually looked up the pictures he referenced because my art knowledge is horribly horribly limited and that's pretty awesome interpretation right there. But is it just me or does Klimt's Judith look like Marilyn Monroe?