A diplomat is captured by supposed insurgents and is waiting in a room for his execution. Texas is a provocative story of death against the backdrop of ugly and uncompromising politics. It is also a meditation on empire, imperialism and American hegemony. The writing borrows heavily from philosophy and poetry. A book full of unique visions, written by a writer who has an ear for cadence.
A very distinctive voice, in tone and syntax, demanding of the reader’s close attention.
A bold book, inventive and compelling, and I really admire what you’re doing with it. You have a very distinctive style, which is a welcome change! And terrific subject matter.
Dark and caustic as it is, the humour did me good, drawing quite a few laughs. Your writing is already very much distinct from anything that I’ve come across in recent memory. What comes to mind is Beckett, but a Beckett who isn’t supercilious about history and would rather forget it in favour of ontology.
Rich in imagination, timing and range
I love the immersion in excess that it gives me. I’m reminded of Robert Smithson’s essay on “a pile of language.” There is that Stein/Williams emphasis on a certain kind of materialization, it allows for the contradictory impulse of destructiveness. There is a strong sense of erasure, that unlike writing that is intended to fix finalize and preserve, here forgetting is just as important. You engage in an activity that is one of forward motion, A relentless running over cliffs, rushing toward its own destruction which has always already occurred. You’re making space by way of dislocation, the constant jarring filling of pages that empty just as fast.