o1. Absalom, Absalom!, William Faulkner
o2. The America Play and Other Works, Suzan-Lori Parks
o3. The Arabian Nights, trans. Husain Haddawy
o4. The Bacchae of Euripides, Wole Soyinka
o5. Cloud Nine, Caryl Churchill
o6. Complete Plays, Sarah Kane
o7. The End of It, Mitchell Goodman
o8. The House of Incest, Anais Nin
o9. House of Leaves, Mark Z.
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The Bacchae 2.1, Charles Mee
Antigone, Mac Wellman
Four Saints in Three Acts, Gertrude Stein
Act Without Words I, Samuel Beckett
The Good Person of Szechwan, Bertold Brecht
To be honest, I haven't read much in the way of French literature, period. And, as you can tell, most of my experimental literature is coming in the form of plays. The thing is, I'm not sure that I've read any particular area of literature "in depth." My reading tends to be more scattered and unfocused--other areas of my life as well--I'd describe myself as more of a generalist than a specialist. People in my neighborhood leave free books on their stoops, and I pick them up and eventually read them. Sometimes I discover something great, sometimes I'm left ambivalent. Or sometimes friends offer to give me books, and I take them and see what I discover. When I worked at a library, I'd take the discards, and when I worked at a tiny bookstore, I'd take the damaged ones. In the past few years, that's been the bulk of my reading--an unpredictable, varied adventure. I attempt to compensate for what I lack in focus with a willingness to engage with and examine just about any text.
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The reality is that I haven't always had the time or resources to actually read the entire library. Accepting and reading anything is a survival tactic that a book-lover uses when they have no other means of obtaining reading material. When your friends are wiring you money for groceries and you can't pay your rent, you collect what you can.
My problem isn't that I obsess over nothing, but rather that I obsess over too many things. Just about everything seems interesting, and sometimes that overwhelming urge to try to discover, appreciate, and understand everything leads to a mental paralysis. To me, the idea of specializing in a particular topic/period/genre/form is the idea of cutting myself off from experiencing the diversity of works that are out there.
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