#williamhgass

[secretstyle]

Happy thanksgiving to everyone who read the epigraph to The Tunnel and didn’t finish because there’s like, a whole big book that follows #rabbit #pacman #namco #dungeon #williamhgass #anaxagoras #hell #descent #thetunnel #cartoon #comic #comicstrip #indexcardart #comics #illustration (at Griffith Observatory) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClW8MS9SHzo/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thecrookedwriterspath]

. . . #quotes #writing #adobespark #alchemy #williamhgass #crooked_writer #crookedwriter https://www.instagram.com/p/Bve10DHHqC-/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=dkcbhx1vqsqv

[yourdisappointedarms]

“We shall live for no reason. Then die and be done with it. What a recognition! What shall save us? Only the knowledge that we have lived without illusion, not excluding the illusion that something will save us.” Remembering a favorite... #williamhgass #american #novelist #shortstorywriter #essayist #critic #philosopher #therecognitions (at Chagrin Falls, Ohio) https://www.instagram.com/p/BrDgxnGAh8D/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1xxyo383grtb0

[atomicwitchdreamer-blog-blo-blog]

Immediatamente salutato come un capolavoro al momento della pubblicazione (1966),questo romanzo,ambientato sul finire dell'Ottocento, narra la storia di un uomo pacifico, buono e sereno - Brackett Omensetter - che si stabilisce con la famiglia in un paesino dell'Ohio. Per alcuni il nuovo venuto, con la sua imperturbabile innocenza e l'inconsueta fortuna che gli arride, diventa una figura affascinante e carismatica, dotata di un potere quasi mistico; ma per il reverendo Furber - uomo colto e introverso animato da una spiritualità rabbiosa, ossessiva e violenta - costituisce una minaccia alla religione organizzata. Con una narrazione a più voci e una prosa impressionistica che lo ha fatto proclamare degno erede di maestri come Joyce e Faulkner, Gass da miracolosamente vita a un piccolo universo per affrontare le grandi questioni dell'uomo, della natura e di Dio..... #libridisecondamano #ravenna #bookstagram #booklovers #bookstore #instabook #igersravenna #instaravenna #ig_books #libriusati #williamhgass (presso Libreria Scattisparsi)

[tiamatsgarden-blog]

Attempting to tackle this titan again. I love difficult books but this one has consistently beat me. #bookstagram #books #thetunnel #williamhgass

[platinum-series-sj]

#Quote by #WilliamHGass "The true alchemist do not change lead into gold ;they change worlds into words." (at Coal Mountain, Georgia)

[charlesbandelier-blog]

And when I wrote my book, to whom was I writing if not the world?...the world!...the world is William welshing on a bet; it is olive sewing up the gut of a goose; it is Reynolds raping Rosie on the frat-house stair, it is a low blow, a deary afternoon, an exclamation of disgust. And when I wrote was I writing to win renown, as it's customarily claimed? or to gain revenge after a long bide of time and tight rein of temper? to earn promotion, to rise above the rest like a loosed balloon? or was it from weak self-esteem? from pure funk, out of a distant childhood fear or recent shame?...the world...the world, alas. It is Alice committing her Tampax to the trash.

The Tunnel, William H. Gass

[frombookforum-blog1]

“Blue pencils, blue noses, blue movies, laws, blue legs and stockings, the language of birds, bees and flowers as sung by longshoremen, that lead-like look the skin has when affected by cold, contusion, sickness, fear; the rotten rum or gin they call blue ruin and the blue devils of its delirium; Russian cats and oysters, a withheld or imprisoned breath, the blue they say that diamonds have, deep holes in the ocean and the blazers which English athletes earn that gentlemen may wear; afflictions of the spirit--dumps, mopes, Mondays--all that's dismal--low-down gloomy music, Nova Scotians, cyanosis, hair rinse, bluing, bleach; the rare blue dahlia like the blue moon shrewd things happen only once in, or the call for trumps in whist (but who remembers whist or what the death of unplayed games is like?), and correspondingly the flag, Blue Peter, which is our signal for getting under way; a swift pitch, Confederate money, the shaded slopes of clouds and mountains, and so the constantly increasing absentness of Heaven (ins Blaue hinein, the Germans say), consequently the color of everything that's empty: blue bottles, bank accounts, and compliments, for instance.”  ― William H. Gass, On Being Blue