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/lit/ Literature

Threads added between 2013/04/13 22:00 and 2013/04/14 04:00

16 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: Social Darwinism.gif]
Why are you pott-smoking brainwashed liberals so against social darwinism? It's true whether you want to acknowledge it or not. INB4 everything is subjective and life is pointless: I think therefore I 420!

Top 10 Sexiest Male Authors

2 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: 190-wallace.jpg]
1. Jack Kerouac 2. Michael Chabon 3. Albert Camus 4. Tao Lin 5. Earnest Hemingway 6. Jonathan Foer 7. Javier Montes 8. Arthur Rimbaud 9. Samuel Beckett 10. Sam Shepard This list is open to criticism Pic related is honorary mention
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I think I made a great breakthrough in my writing yesterday. I'm not going to write "great masterpieces" anymore you know, the ones that are chalk full of themes, motifs, morals etc. I'm just going to write shit that entertains me, and that I think will entertain other people. I'm through trying to make "elevated" literature that resonates with works of the "greats". Feels free.
1 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: jacklondon.jpg]
What do you think of Jack London, /lit/? White Fang was required reading at the elementary school I attended, and I really enjoyed that book as a child. As I got older I read more of his work; the Sea Wolf is my favorite book by him, with the Iron Heel coming in at a close second. While I don't think that he's a phenomenal writer—and I'm off-put by his fetish for wolves—I do think that most of his work has a certain life to it. A cold, brutal, and sometimes indifferent quality that I enjoy quite a lot.

Dom Casmurro

15 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: yI5Vm.jpg]
Enjoyed this when I read it a few years ago, suspect it would hold up for me today. Any other Brazilian books worth reading? Here's the beginning of Dom Casmurro: " One evening just lately, as I was coming back from town to Engenho Novo on the Central line train, I met a young man from this neighborhood, whom I know by sight: enough to raise my hat to him. He greeted me, sat down next to me, started talking about the moon and ministerial comings and goings, and ended up reciting some of his verses. The journey was short, and it may be that the verses were not entirely bad. But it so happened that I was tired, and closed my eyes three or four times; enough for him to interrupt the reading and put his poems back in his pocket. "Go on," I said waking up. "I've finished," he murmured. "They're very nice." I saw him make a move to take them out again, but it was no more than a move: he was put out. Next day, he started calling me insulting names, and ended up nicknaming me Dom Casmurro. The neighbors, who dislike my quiet, reclusive habits, gave currency to the nickname, and in the end it stuck. Not that I got upset. I told the story to some of my friends in town, and they call me it too for fun, some in letters: "Dom Casmurro, I'm coming to dine with you on Sunday." "I'm going to Petropolis, Dom Casmurro; it's the same house in Renania; see if you can't drag yourself away from your lair in Engenho Novo, and come and spend a couple of weeks with me." "My dear Dom Casmurro, don't think I'm letting you off the theater tomorrow. Come and spend the night in town; I'll give you a box, tea, and a bed; the only thing I can't give you is a girl."

Mind the edges

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Rate my advanced literature. He sat at his bookcase with a decanter of scotch. It was a small bookcase, it allowed him to be seated but also be at the height to place and retreive things from its mantle. Those things were mainly scotch and books. His back was arced and congruent to the wall as he leant back and read. He squinted as he read, not by fault of darkness but by the proximity and power of he lamp sitting on the bookcase mantle. He took a mouthful of the drink. As he sat there reading, I sit here writing. His book is surely not as good as this one shall be. Yes. Surely this is a good start the 'writer' thought. “This will be perfect for my English Literature task”. He adtroitly striaghtended his fedora and fumbled through his MLP keychain to get the key to his dragon dildo vibrator.
3 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: Camus-13.jpg]
What about this guy?
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What does /lit/ think of The Sandman?
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>start seriously reading after not reading for years >start to use big words How do I use my increasing vocabulary without sounding like a pretentious asshole?

What is modernist literature explained.

0 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: the artist formerly known as prince.jpg]
http://youtu.be/DwlRqG0dWE8 For those of you holding an alcoholic beverage, feel free to chug one back every time she says 'stream of consciousness.'
1 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: saturn.jpg]
"Byron and hughes good. good work do nice. yes, similar sometimes. other time? no. but some time? yes. I want talk about apocalypse. yes. sometime they go talk about death and things. yeah. Byron talk a lot about gods and things. people die, too. sometime all the people end bad. hughes, well, all end bad all time. most time actually. yep. pretty much badness all the way. bad. bad. bad. oh yeah sometime thing go good. for crow thing go bad all time almost until they don’t. I swear some good happen to him way back when. must’ve been sleep at time. but now? Byron carry romantic apoplacalypse. bad thing? who tell. I say, good for America. then come hughes late 20 century late to party. tell story about myth things. bad happens. yeah.
4 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: 453422433.jpg]
ITT: Pose with your favorite book
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Anyone have the "authorial intent" comic that Fabulous made here a couple years ago? It made fun of all the retards saying that "authorial intent doesn't matter."
27 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: davidfosterwallace3.jpg]
What's your favorite DFW book/story collection (Infinite Jest doesn't count). I'm halfway through Consider the Lobster and loving it.
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Hello e/lit/ists. I recently read masters of Rome. I found it very interesting and it left me wanting for more. Are there any senators that have written about their experiences? Hard historical dramatization on the subject is also appreciated. Picture unrelated, on a smartphone, which night account for potential typos

Underexposed Writers

158 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: tumblr_luirglKz5K1qfrrv2o1_500.png]
ITT: Writers you feel don't get mentioned on /lit/ often enough.

How to come up with a thrilling plot

10 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: hitch.jpg]
Greetings /lit/, I'd like to play a game of pen & paper with my friends. None of that fantasy dragon bullshit, more like a realistic setting with a thriller plot. So my question (since writing a pen & paper adventure is a lot like writing literature): how do I come up with an exciting plot? Any tips on how to "construct a mystery", if you know what I mean? excuse my bad english, I'm not a native speaker Please share your writing techniques, tips, links and story ideas
19 more posts in this thread. [Missing image file: armpit.jpg]
so I'm trying to learn french, what are some good, simple french books for this?

noko

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Paradise Lost discussion thread?
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"Cholly loved Blue. Long after he was a man, he remembered the good times they had had. How on a July 4 at a church picnic a family was about to break open a watermelon. Several children were standing around watching. Blue was hovering about on the periphery of the circle--a faint smile of anticipation softening his face. The father of the family lifted the melon high over his head--his big arms looked taller than the trees to Cholly, and the melon blotted out the sun. Tall, head forward, eyes fastened on a rock, his arms higher than the pines, his hands holding a melon bigger than the sun, he paused an instant to get his bearing and secure his aim. Watching the figure etched against the bright blue sky, Cholly felt goose pimples popping along his arms and neck. He wondered if God looked like that. No. God was a nice old white man, with long white hair, flowing white beard, and little blue eyes that looked sad when people died and mean when they were bad. It must be the devil who looks like that--holding the world in his hands, ready to dash it to the ground and spill the red guts so niggers could eat the sweet, warm insides. If the devil did look like that, Cholly preferred him. He never felt anything thinking about God, but just the idea of the devil excited him. And now the strong, black devil was blotting out the sun and getting ready to split open the world."






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