Last Book I Loved

The Last Book I Loved: My Struggle by Karl Ove Knaussgard

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It was strange. Volume One of Karl Ove Knausgaard’s six-volume memoir/novel was, with one traumatic exception near the end, the story of a typical young man. He had a typical childhood broken up only by a typical divorce. He was a typical teenager; excesses of emotion, dreams of stardom, and experimentation with substances. Typically he […]

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The Last Poem I Loved: “So the Pilot Says Over the Intercom” by David Hernandez

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July fifth. My girlfriend and I are waiting on Chinese food to be delivered while the neighborhood kids work their way through buckets of excess firecrackers and I come across a book I thought I’d lost—Always Danger by David Hernandez, a slick little volume with combusting matches on the cover. Pretty much every other page […]

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The Last Book I Loved: The Geographical History of America by Gertrude Stein

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I’m quite sure that if I lived when Gertrude Stein did, I would have not enjoyed her person—the pronouncements, the relentless self-promotion, the blatant self-absorption (“I am a genius”). If I lived in her time I probably, like so many else then, would not have enjoyed her writing either—the repetitions, the lack of story, the […]

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