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classysnorlax

December 2010

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classysnorlax

First Post~

 Well, I've decided to start a blog just to record what's going on in my life.  Looking back on things is something I'm pretty fond of, so I figured why not?  I only have one more semester to go in college and life after seems pretty darn frightening.  

To start out my journal, I want to mention that I just finished an absolutely amazing book called House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski
It is very difficult to describe as there are multiple people telling stories.  So, here's my tip of the iceberg summary of this novel:
 
House of Leaves is a novel following the life of a man named Johnny who, by chance, comes to live in the home of a deceased man named Zampanó.  Johnny leads a life of so-called sin and pleasure filled with women, drink and drugs, but after acquiring his new residence he finds the remains of papers, clippings, napkins, etc of an in-depth, very visually written, movie review about a film that has never existed called The Navidson Record, written by Zampanó, who, by the way, was blind.  Johnny feels compelled to edit the papers, put them all together, and investigate the review as there are hundreds of sources, some real some fake.  But through this editing process we watch Johnny's life begin to unravel.  All the while, we are following the review of this fictional movie about a man and his family who live in a house that they soon discover is larger on the inside than what appears on the outside.  And from there it all comes undone...

And that is just the very top layer of this fascinating book that not only has a fascinating story-line(s), but also is extremely creative in its use of typography.  It's underlying message is one of entrapment and ensnaring, and that is certainly what it does to you as you become more and more engrossed in this story.

Below the cut is a letter from Johnny's mother who is in a psych ward.  I was looking for a decoded version of this letter online, but couldn't find one easily, so I decided to decode it myself.  This is the letter, taking the first letter of each word and creating words and sentences out of each one.  (Not really crucial info for the book, but not relevant to anyone who hasn't read it)

Dearest Johnny,

They have found a way to break me.  Rape a fifty-six year old bag of bones.  There is no worse and don't believe otherwise.  The attendants do it.  Others do it.  Not every day, not every week, maybe not even every month.  But they do it.  Someone I don't know always comes.  When its dark.  Late.  I've learned not to scream, screaming gave me hope and unanswered hope is shattered hope.  Think of your haitian.  It is far saner to choose rape than shattered hope.  So I submit and I drift. 

I let caprice and a certain degree of free association take me away.  Sometimes I'm still away long after its done, after he's gone- the stranger, the attendant, the custodian, the janitor, cleaning man, waiting man, dirty man- the night tidying up after him.  I'm in hell giving into heaven where I sometimes think of your beautiful father with his dreamy wings and only then do I allow myself to cry.  not because your mother was raped (again) but because she loved so much what she could never have been allowed to keep.  Such a silly girl.  

You must save me Johnny.  In the name of your father.  I must escape this place or I will die.


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