Title | : | Flats |
Author | : | |
Rating | : | |
ISBN | : | 1852424109 |
ISBN-10 | : | 9781852424107 |
Language | : | English |
Format Type | : | Paperback |
Number of Pages | : | 159 |
Publication | : | First published January 1, 1970 |
Flats Reviews
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people after the apocalypse seem really weird and sleepy.
can't wait.
Memphis, Omaha, Halifax, Witchita, Duluth, Houston, Portland, Mobile -
An interesting exercise in the mundane. Is it a dream, is it post apocalyptic - are the characters even real. Interesting if only for something completely different.
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derived from and yet both more terminal and minimal than beckett. and--biggest strike against it--not as funny.
but/and just to say it: great font underneath the dustjacket on the hardcover. -
Three stars is a neutral score from me because I think I need to read this again. Actually, I know I do.
Withholding proper judgement until that time, assuming it comes. -
This is not an easy read. Once I realized that the novel has a post-apocalyptic setting, I was able to let go of the lack of plot, narrative unfolding, any sense of space and time, along with the ambiguity of the narrator. What is left is the language, and it is quite remarkable, although very difficult to describe. It is almost impossible to figure out what is happening and who, if anyone, are characters (in he end I think that there may be only a single character).
The novel seems to be a rendering of a peculiar kind of consciousness, devoid of human emotion, although anxiety may be an important element.
All I know is that I had to read it a bit at a time, and I was making the effort for the sheer pleasure of the language which was puzzling, incongruous, but full of surprises. -
Post-apocalyptic, but unlike any other in the genre. Kind of expands upon his work in Nog with identity as a main theme. Characters named after cities, with the main character making short and sporadic journeys while becoming new versions of himself(?). Each character seems concerned with random objects. Short sentences, switching between first and third person, and dream-like dialogue make for a very interesting, sometimes tiresome read.
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Did not finish it! Not even close. And it's such a small book. I wish I could say that it held my interest long enough to finish it but I can't.
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Sort of like a sequel to NOG, but with even less happening. Like something that Beckett could have written had he access to LSD and was having a bad day. A real slog, unfortunately.
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Only Wurlitzer could write an end of the world book and make it read like Beckett on acid. It takes a great writer to pull that off and not sound like bullshit. Something happens. Nothing happens.
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Anyone interested in the work of Wurlitzer should read Gary Indiana's essay from his recent collection Utopia's Debris. It sheds a little light on this novel, which, if you actually managed to read the whole thing, is quite helpful.
Oh, and I learned that you should always be thankful for a little bit of ginger ale, even if it's not ginger ale.