Chapter 26 Book

A book is a story of two people who love each other.Here it is: They love each other without prejudice.That happened outside of the books.What I say here, I don't want to say in the book, but I shouldn't forget to say it now, even though it's a little hard to find the words to say it.This love is pinned on the impossible to write.It is a love that writing cannot yet achieve.Too strong, stronger than a human being.It is not organized at all.It lives in the night, and most of the time it is in deep sleep.No, no, when love begins, it generally forms itself, and it does so even around all the resistance that forbids experiencing it, creating customs for itself, people eat, they sleep, they kiss, they Fighting, making up, and trying to commit suicide, and sometimes they're in love with each other, and sometimes they're divorced and come back, and sometimes they talk about other things, and they don't cry every day.Here they can't do anything, they don't make love, they wait, they wait for the darkness of Chaos, and sometimes he tries to kill her.I believe he will kill her, probably he did, but I think that is a forced ending, too early.It can be said that it is a kind of absurd love without a theme, which is still abstract and unreal.No, it is still the kind of love I have already spoken of, a love that already loves, that has grown up and survived in everything that one can say is justified according to religious taste, from which it Possibly close to the desire for pain, to the demand for some ambiguous reason that demands that pain in order to recall the absence without form, without face, without voice, which has yet engulfed the human body in its entirety, It's like being at the mercy of the musical function, being drawn to the passion that accompanies liberation from the burden of some form.

Yes, such a book is the kind of love that is not recognized among men, who forbid telling the fact that they love each other by forces they do not understand.But they are in love.This is still not clear.That is undeclarable.It is running away all the time.That is incompetence.But it exists after all.In the ecstasy they shared was again personal to them, the identity of their affections.Did they see something in what happened between them and brought them together?I have no idea.As for love, they know better than others what it means to do something but say nothing in love, but they don't amount to love so that they can experience it together.They live where another story takes place, as if they were other people.When someone talks about love, it is generally said that they love each other with love. Here, these people don't know how to love each other, they are just experiencing a kind of love.The word to utter it could not be found on his lips.There are desires, which cannot be expressed sexually, and this takes away love.Then there was chatter and drinking.no no.In this regard, there is only crying for it.

Those characters in the book, I know them, I don't know their stories, just like I don't know mine.I have no story.Likewise, I have no life.My story, every day, every second of every day, is shattered by the present of life.It was never possible for me to see clearly what people said was his life.Only the thought of death, or love for that man and my child, brought me together.I live like I can never come close to a mode of being.I often ask myself on what basis people tell their lives.That's right, there are many narrative paradigms, all of which are based on timing and external events as the starting point.People generally follow this paradigm.One begins with his life, follows the trajectory of events, wars, changes of place, marriages, and finally comes down to the present.

Some books are hard to touch, here's "Summer of the 80s", "Atlantics", the vice-consul screaming in the garden of Shalimar, the beggar, the smell of leprosy, M. D, "Noel V. Stein," "Affliction," "Affliction," "Affliction," and, Helen Ragranel, Student Residence, Light on the Great River. The Levee has become untouchable, and certain human elements have been replaced by others, which do not arouse the reader's curiosity, and I desperately want him to read it, so the danger is lessened by keeping the story at a distance. , everything should be attributed to the original story, that story has been lost.This situation has continued until .So in my life there are two girls and one me. Such is the story of The Levee.In that terrible summer of 1986, while writing this last book,2 things happened that I did not see.In this story, the place changes, of course, it is lived in person, where the book is, at what level, and on what kind of adverb it lies. Said a lie.In no way do I think lying about desire.That can only happen if the man is severely rejected by your flesh.In any case, the book did tell a lived story.I handle it as a special case, not as a type case.The time of writing may have passed, and the pain I have experienced must always be recalled.Pain always stays and never changes, and so do feelings.In Or Pain, the emotion is still burning, still throbbing.This feeling still resounds in these books, and every time there is a disturbance, those voices can be heard in my ears.Here, there is nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing.I was mixed up by those people.And what I do is tell an impossible story, like I tell a possible story between a woman and a gay man, so all I do is tell a love story, love stories are always possible, Even if it appears impossible to those people, those people are far from writing—because writing is not about possible styles, or, rather, about stories.Possibly, I have meant to say this, even here, but without success, I mean: among them there is only love, but no love story.That is, what I'm trying to say is that there was a time at the intersection of their relationship, on a certain night, love appeared in the dark like a web of light.There may be one time, at a certain moment, that the story points directly to love.

① "Summer of the 1980s" is a narrative work by the author, published in 1980; the movie "Atlanticians", published in 1981, and the novel "Atlanticians", published in 1982; ..." refers to the novel "The Vice-Consul", published in 1965; "Noel V. Stein" is the novel "The Madness of Noel Stein", published in 1864; the novel was published in 1984; the novel "Pain" , published in 1985; "The Levee" is the novel "Pacific Levee", published in 1950. ②This may imply something related to the author's novel "Emily L" (1987).

It is extremely rare for me to get much out of writing something that is false, even slightly false.I am no doubt doing my best to write this book right now to find out.I must be in the best emotional state to treat this book well, not as an object of hurt, of hatred, as a weapon directed against itself.Whatever happens let it happen.I seem to have heard someone say that writing can’t go any further, saying that writing, whether you like it or not, has already reached the door and closed it, but I think it’s just the opposite, writing is still unimpeded, and everything can Walking through, the gate is closed, no matter what the basis is, you can drive straight in.In this way, the book must have something similar to the potential literary theory of Roland Barthes. I have a lot of ideas, and I want to show them off. Novels are sometimes proof, such as those award-winning novels.In other words, I haven't gotten over it yet.I am in a historical situation, like I sink into the sea, into a long river, but it is still not enough to savage love and people, for me, I am too important.It's a long way from that.

I don't know what should I do.What is experienced every day is not what happens every day.What happened was the most important thing that happened on that unexperienced day.Nothing happens, and that is precisely the event that is most worth thinking about.Maybe I should go into writing with my luggage, my weather-beaten face, my age, my occupation, my rage, my madness, and you too, and you should stay in the book, with your luggage, Your lustrous countenance, your age, your indolence, your terrible rage, your madness, your astonishingly extraordinary holiness.But this is still not enough.

What compromise, what needs to be conventionally "reasonable layout" in terms of style, sneer at it, throw it away, I have to fight face to face against the impossibility of love, we have no retreat, we have no rescue, this is a kind of Love from ancient times is simply unimaginable and so strange, we don't care about it, we don't need to investigate and recognize it, we live in it and experience it just as it originally appeared in it, impossible, indeed , but don't intervene, don't do anything to avoid being hurt or suffering, don't escape, don't destroy, and don't walk away.But this is still far from enough.

Before the manuscript was delivered, until the last day, during this period, I thought maybe I should not take the book out for publication. I was the only one thinking about it at the time, but it was too late, and finally they prevailed. Take it for publication.