Archived threads in /lit/ - Literature - 955. page

Hector was very overrated IMO. He couldn't kill anyone of significance

>>7725603
It's just the fact that he didn't have to die that does it for me. He basically fought his brother's war for him and end up dying for it. And to be dishonored afterwards is the icing on the cake.

>>7724823
anyone?

You're shipping your friend quite a few books!

I don't know of any workarounds. Also - no one here reads.

A box

>>7724554
pick up "the modern scholar lecture series"

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>>7724554

OP, I don't think anyone here should recommend you anything. You should at least discover your interests and create a post probing for books that belong to that field. In lieu of a recommendation, I'd rather just impart on you some advice.

If you're not a naturally inquisitive person then don't read nonfic for the sake of being able to reference something tangential and obscure in a conversation. If you enjoy reading fiction novels now, then by all means, keep reading fiction novels. There's nothing wrong with being well read. If you try to read fiction for the ethereal quest to become more knowledgeable, then you're going to bore yourself to death and not retain any of the information anyway.

Here's what I'd say: Find something your interested in, then explore it. Have you even people watched and wanted to know why people behave a certain way?

This was my essential question. I got so God damn interested in IQ that I've read every academic study and every eminent author in the field of psychometrics twice over. Then I got interested in moral psychology -- I'm a big Haidtist now. Now I'm interested in anarcho primitivism and socioanthropological concepts; I want to find out what the natural state of man truly is. Is the noble savage really dead? Was Kaczynski a mere schizoactive loon?

Start with a question OP, then make a thread asking for recommendations. Then explore that question. If you're anything like me, questions beget passion and passion begets knowledge; that's not true for the reverse.

pic unrelated

>>7724554
Read Wikipedia nig nog.
Not even joking. Do you know how relatively complete and relevant the information is on there?

Any mathematics/science principle, type it in, and you can see a proof and implications, where it came from, etc. Any piece of literature that's acclaimed, you can probably see inspirations and what others said about it as well as it's history.

Donate $30 to wikipedia in exchange for this service, pretend you spent it on a book. It'll go farther there than any book you can buy.

>>7723967
From what my grandfather told me, that's exactly what people were like back then (yes I'm Russian).

Yeah man why can't people from the 19th century who were first experiencing the loss of absolutes be more relatable to the nihilism we were molded in.

>>7723967
I read The Gambler, Crime and Punishment
After starting Demons I feel disillusioned by Dostoevsky, aside from your obvious bait post Fyodor's novels feel really immature compared to Tolstoy or Turgenev

promoting

>>7722651
He was a Christian though wasn't he?

>>7722662
Just goes to show

Because he hasn't read Pynchon.

>>7721226
Just like with his wife, I would liked him much more if I didn't know him as a person.

>>7721226
He's popular among normals and writes genre fiction and is also a bad writer. What more of a reason do you need?

>>7725978
Man are you retarded?
>'he applied the seasoning gingerly', 'he swept the floor gingerly', etc

did u ever hear the song "vicarious bliss" by one of those french house dudes from ed banger? it was p gud, but that dude never did another gud song so i forgot his name

a 'sense of propriety'

>>7725769
So I won't be called out for not answering
>Orlando
>Shadow Country
>Maya Books, in Sanford
>Nope.
The cost of living is too high to draw a large literary community, and the association with theme parks drives people away. There's a group that does readings and stuff together, but they're small, cliquey, and not terribly interesting. For a metro area of this size, a dozen people doesn't make for much of a literary community anyway. You have to leave Orlando city limits to find a good bookstore anyway.

>>7725738
Tbqh this is the biggest problem for characters because I can't change their personas once I give them names and I can't write them if they don't have them.

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For one of my most popular short stories, all the characters names were ones I'd seen written on ice cream vans on the day I came up with the plot.

Weak bait.

2/10
Try harder next time

Books are only constrained to telling you what happened through words, and they can waste a lot of time describing the setting while movie can just show it to you. They have the visual and auditory aspects to make a more immersive work of art. Following this logic, video games are the highest work of art so far because they combine the literary aspects of books along with the visual and auditory aspects of film and they also have interactivity which makes the art even more immersive. In books, you're only told what hjappens. In movies, you're shown what happens, but with video games, you genuinely feel what happens.

Maybe YOU have a fetish for this stuff.

>>7725715
Are you fucking serious?

Kafka was into some weird shit.
They found all sorts of bizarre porn in a safe he had.

Unless I'm mistaken both are acceptable and in use, but don't necessarily refer to the same thing. Myriad people, for example, could refer to a diverse makeup of people, and not necessarily a large number of people, whereas a myriad of people would seem to be referring to a numeric value more explicitly.

>>7725312
captcha: select all books with literature

>it's a >dropped post
>dropper

Davos Fester Wallmart

un homme qui dort

This Zarathustra did; and no sooner had he laid himself on the ground in the stillness and secrecy of the variegated grass, than he had forgotten his little thirst, and fell asleep. For as the proverb of Zarathustra saith: "One thing is more necessary than the other." Only that his eyes remained open:--for they never grew weary of viewing and admiring the tree and the love of the vine. In falling asleep, however, Zarathustra spake thus to his heart:

"Hush! Hush! Hath not the world now become perfect? What hath happened unto me?

As a delicate wind danceth invisibly upon parqueted seas, light, feather-light, so--danceth sleep upon me.
No eye doth it close to me, it leaveth my soul awake. Light is it, verily, feather-light.

It persuadeth me, I know not how, it toucheth me inwardly with a caressing hand, it constraineth me. Yea, it constraineth me, so that my soul stretcheth itself out:--

--How long and weary it becometh, my strange soul! Hath a seventh-day evening come to it precisely at noontide? Hath it already wandered too long, blissfully, among good and ripe things?

It stretcheth itself out, long--longer! it lieth still, my strange soul. Too many good things hath it already tasted; this golden sadness oppresseth
it, it distorteth its mouth.

--As a ship that putteth into the calmest cove:--it now draweth up to the land, weary of long voyages and uncertain seas. Is not the land more faithful?

As such a ship huggeth the shore, tuggeth the shore:--then it sufficeth for a spider to spin its thread from the ship to the land. No stronger ropes are required there.

As such a weary ship in the calmest cove, so do I also now repose, nigh to the earth, faithful, trusting, waiting, bound to it with the lightest
threads.

O happiness! O happiness! Wilt thou perhaps sing, O my soul? Thou liest in the grass. But this is the secret, solemn hour, when no shepherd playeth his pipe.

Take care! Hot noontide sleepeth on the fields. Do not sing! Hush! The world is perfect.

Do not sing, thou prairie-bird, my soul! Do not even whisper! Lo--hush!
The old noontide sleepeth, it moveth its mouth: doth it not just now drink
a drop of happiness--

--An old brown drop of golden happiness, golden wine? Something whisketh
over it, its happiness laugheth. Thus--laugheth a God. Hush!--

--'For happiness, how little sufficeth for happiness!' Thus spake I once
and thought myself wise. But it was a blasphemy: THAT have I now learned.
Wise fools speak better.

The least thing precisely, the gentlest thing, the lightest thing, a lizard's rustling, a breath, a whisk, an eye-glance--LITTLE maketh up the
BEST happiness. Hush!

--What hath befallen me: Hark! Hath time flown away? Do I not fall?
Have I not fallen--hark! into the well of eternity?

--What happeneth to me? Hush! It stingeth me--alas--to the heart? To the heart! Oh, break up, break up, my heart, after such happiness, after such a sting!

--What? Hath not the world just now become perfect? Round and ripe? Oh, for the golden round ring--whither doth it fly? Let me run after it! Quick!

Hush--" (and here Zarathustra stretched himself, and felt that he was asleep.)

Still many scenarios to go with though.

The silence speaks volumes, thanks people.