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God, Douglas Coupland's new novel sucks. When did his voice become so curdled? It's like Bret Easton Ellis tried to go down on Don DeLillo and threw up. I realize Shampoo Planet and Microserfs were an internet age ago but Coupland's creative decline hurts me afresh with his every new misbegotten work.

Posted by R. at 12:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

"I thought for a moment. 'There needs to be some disorder in the scene, to contrast with her tranquility,' I explained. 'Something to tease the eye. And yet it must be something pleasing to the eye as well, and it is, because the cloth and her arm are in a similar position.'" (p.136)

Posted by R. at 08:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

"What many people don't realize is that Goofy's eyesight isn't all that good. Those long ears obstruct his peripheral vision, and the oversized nose further limits his view. What he can mostly see is the ground around his feet. Fortunately, Goofy has two human handlers to guide him into the park. They open a door and gently push him forward. He has to duck to get through. Goofy can't really tell where he is, but he hears the murmur of voices in the distance. He's nervous, and he can feel his heart beating. Only seconds have elapsed when he hears: 'There's Goofy!'" (p.5)

Posted by R. at 12:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

"And then she hears the sound of a helicopter, from somewhere behind her and, turning, sees the long white beam of light sweeping the dead ground as it comes, like a lighthouse gone mad from loneliness, and searching that barren ground as foolishly, as randomly, as any grieving heart ever has." (p.324)

An overdue dent in my reading backlog.

Posted by R. at 08:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)