Teju Cole’s got a penchant for prose that lingers; over at The New Inquiry, he delivers once again:
When I have a nap or something, J.D. said, and I fall asleep (these words in English, all of a sudden, and not in French; but only these words), at that moment, in a sort of half sleep, all of a sudden I’m terrified by what I’m doing. And I tell myself: You’re crazy to write this! You’re crazy to attack such a thing! You’re crazy to criticize such and such a person. You’re crazy to contest such an authority, be it textual, institutional or personal. (J.D.’s gestures become more animated.) And there is a kind of panic in my subconscious, he said. As if…what can I compare it to?