Post obscure books. The first one I have never heard about (neither about the book nor about the author) will be the next one I'm going to read, provided I can find it online, without cluing myself up about it before.
Pic vaguely related, he is an example for an author I know of
Suttree, Cormac McCarthy.
Yes yes I know, not so obscure an author, but I rarely see anyone mention it here, or anywhere really. He spent twenty years working on it and it shows. Hilarious and harrowing.
>>7896202
Motorman by David Ohle
vurt - jeff noon
city of god - paulo lins
Soft - Rupert Thompson
The Spider's House - Paul Bowles
Saw another book of his mentioned on here ages ago, read it, really liked it for some reason. Nice atmosphere, if you're into arabs and shit, but might not be your thing if you're not.
David Gates - Jernigan
Octave Mirbeau - In the Sky
>>7896202
Behead All Satans
The Magnificent Third Rail
Cow Country
Pandemonium of the Sun
The dream-quest of unknown kadath
>>7896202
Milkbottle H
Ice Never F
Take 5
Wittgenstein's Mistress
Wittgenstein's Nephew
Nadja
The Great London Fire
Guys, I'm not OP but the books you're recommending are, like, good, right?
Except for this >>7896523 spamposter, yes they are
>>7897888
I'm not spamming, I'm posting the most obscure things I can think of without giving a shit about quality because I've never read any of the things I posted.
It's not obscure enough to really be called obscure if you've read it.
Dust of Far Suns
Toward an Anthropological Theory of Value
Fatal Risk
Masters of Atlantis
The Dead Mountaineer's Inn
Ship Fever
>>7896202
My own...
Los soldados no se ponen de rodillas.
Ruskie book written in spanish.
>WW2, camps, comramdes, escapes
>>7896202
Augustines Confessions and Virgil's Georgics
>>7898702
also
The Lost Scrapbook by Evan Dara (which should be the most widely read book of the late nineties though it isn't)
also a free poem
A Step Away from Them
BY FRANK O'HARA
It’s my lunch hour, so I go
for a walk among the hum-colored
cabs. First, down the sidewalk
where laborers feed their dirty
glistening torsos sandwiches
and Coca-Cola, with yellow helmets
on. They protect them from falling
bricks, I guess. Then onto the
avenue where skirts are flipping
above heels and blow up over
grates. The sun is hot, but the
cabs stir up the air. I look
at bargains in wristwatches. There
are cats playing in sawdust.
On
to Times Square, where the sign
blows smoke over my head, and higher
the waterfall pours lightly. A
Negro stands in a doorway with a
toothpick, languorously agitating.
A blonde chorus girl clicks: he
smiles and rubs his chin. Everything
suddenly honks: it is 12:40 of
a Thursday.
Neon in daylight is a
great pleasure, as Edwin Denby would
write, as are light bulbs in daylight.
I stop for a cheeseburger at JULIET’S
CORNER. Giulietta Masina, wife of
Federico Fellini, è bell’ attrice.
And chocolate malted. A lady in
foxes on such a day puts her poodle
in a cab.
There are several Puerto
Ricans on the avenue today, which
makes it beautiful and warm. First
Bunny died, then John Latouche,
then Jackson Pollock. But is the
earth as full as life was full, of them?
And one has eaten and one walks,
past the magazines with nudes
and the posters for BULLFIGHT and
the Manhattan Storage Warehouse,
which they’ll soon tear down. I
used to think they had the Armory
Show there.
A glass of papaya juice
and back to work. My heart is in my
pocket, it is Poems by Pierre Reverdy.
Washington and Baltimore by Julian Mazor
