Travis Jeppesen’s new novel The Suiciders works over/ fucks the reader, seeps into the mind like a good cult should. Blake Butler reviews.
Blake Butler is subsumed in a landscape of blue icing and imaginary video games. WIXIW by Liars plays somewhere in the background. Instants splinter.
Gathering thought and expression from Joyelle McSweeney and James Joyce, in an excision from Nothing: A Portrait of Insomnia, author Blake Butler examines the strange language of not sleeping.
Blake Butler finds a little sweetness in Mathias Svalina’s I Am A Very Productive Entrepreneur and burns it off with a machine like the one from the 80s that swings around your ankle as you skip, but it’s not skip counting because that’s how you count by twos.
Fanzine caught up with the always gracious Dennis Cooper in Paris this summer and was casually handed his forthcoming book The Marbled Swarm on a day we went to see Anish Kapoor’s inflatable Leviathan sculpture at the Palais Royal. "It’s my best yet," an understatement of humble challenge coming from America’s elder statesman of trangressive literature, now a more on-than-off expat in the country of his literary heroes, France. Cooper certainly has taken his economically taught, So-Cal erotic horror mastery and cloaked it with a mashup of continental elan. A novel of cannibalism twixt the secret passages of chateaus told in a new form of language that turns ouroboros-like (cannibalistically) in on itself, we couldn’t think of anyone better to unravel such a challenge than the next gen bard of sleepless nights, Blake Butler.