this is beautifully written; love the feeling of rushing energy and intensity from line to line, as you analyse Houllebecq’s own intensity:
“literature, at least the one I’m interested in, is not just words and events nicely paired, a proof of a certain kind of intelligence, it is first and in essence an expression of a writer’s life, his life’s work, everything done & everything felt, his soul. And in this Houellebecq succeeds…because he writes, at his best, truly, like his life was on the line if he lied, as if the parasites that he cultivates in his brain, as he refers to his characters, would torment him forever if he did not.”
this is beautifully written; love the feeling of rushing energy and intensity from line to line, as you analyse Houllebecq’s own intensity:
“literature, at least the one I’m interested in, is not just words and events nicely paired, a proof of a certain kind of intelligence, it is first and in essence an expression of a writer’s life, his life’s work, everything done & everything felt, his soul. And in this Houellebecq succeeds…because he writes, at his best, truly, like his life was on the line if he lied, as if the parasites that he cultivates in his brain, as he refers to his characters, would torment him forever if he did not.”
Love this idea for a substack. Excited to read more of your work.