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Don't be too harsh on the grammar, I just google translated it to english and corrected all the mistakes I could find.
The true artist is not pretentious nor he boasts of his condition; the artist simply, by his very nature, is. Being totally immersed in his art, the subject must do just as he directed by it. This is, usually, in an instinctive, improvised, but essentially, natural way. The artist should not even take into account what others may think or the impact that his actions might have. The artist simply acts; He expresses what he feels and reacts to it. A true artist, however, does not intend to be instinctive or improvised or anything on purpose. The true artist is not aware of this; the pure spontaneity of art is similar to a code installed by default in the DNA of the artist. The artist can be fully aware of his state of art, but has no control whatsoever of the actions that might be motivated by it. It is indeed a mystery. The artist can be very wise and knowledgeable, which is normally the case, but for him, art will always be a mystery. It is this combination, the mystery of art with the intelligence of the subject, which results in the greatest literary, musical and visual works in the history of mankind. The unknown and mystery, fed by the experiences, memories and desires (the flesh) of the subject, generate all the features that make up the work, while the other wise and knowing half is the one in charge of structuring and attach them to each effectively.
It is by all of this, that in the damp darkness of October, at about two in the morning, the streets of downtown Guatemala City were awakened by a poor artist who ran striding through the puddles and rain. Ignacio came running from La Aurora to the center, the only place he could consider safe at that time. In his race to get to his uncle, Ignacio had managed to arouse three homeless men that were sleeping on the sidewalks, and had earned a couple of insults from some drunks from a canteen. Naturally, Ignacio didn't give a fuck about it at the time. He was drunk in his thought, shocked by what had happened, about how he was going to explain it and what he would do now that it had happened. The only thing he had to worry about, at least for now, was to get safely to his uncle's house, just about seven more blocks far: it was near the Central Park. He had two thousand quetzales in cash in his left pocket, along with some gum, and his phone on the right. He ran as the rain soaked more and more."
Any opinions or suggestions? Post yours to critic them too.
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I think I've only seen this book posted in corn threads, which is how I think I found out about it, but has anyone read this? I finished it a few days ago.
My initial impression was that the novel would be a refreshing contrast to the older works I usually read, with all its modern references (including 4chan, desu) and simple prose. I did find it quite refreshing indeed, but also at times found it to be just a bit boring, or at least found myself wondering what the point was of reading a book chronicling some guys drug-filled life as he traveled around the United States and Taiwan.
Taipei reminded me a great deal of On the Road by Kerouac and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Thompson. In all three books I had the similar reaction of being somewhat entertained but wondering what the purpose of such a book was. When I reached the end of Taipei, I found that unlike Fear and Loathing, there was no overt message about modern society or the drug culture or the way we live.
Taipei for me was powerful kind of in the same way the end of Infinite Jest was. At the end of IJ I had a sort of 'holy shit' feeling, and I felt similar, but not quite as strong after finishing Taipei. I thought the way Tao Lin chronicled Paul's spiritual and mental "bottom" of his drug addiction was beautiful and allowed the reader to really feel the lack of feeling and malaise that comes with addiction.
Anyways, has anyone else read Taipei, or any of Tao Lin's other work? What did you think?
Another necessary Infinite Jest thread
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Hey /lit/. I'm currently reading your favorite tome, Infinite Jest, by Davidoff Foster-Waldau. I have a hard copy, but someone once linked a page with the full text free in html. I'd like to be able to ctrl+F peripheral characters and shit I know has come up but didn't flag when it did 300 pages ago. That link would be appreciated.
Also, general meme-free unironic /ij/ thread, if you want.