These Possible Lives, Paperback by Jaeggy, Fleur; Proctor, Minna Zallman (TRN...

$ 8.16

ISBN: 9780811226875 Genre: Literary Criticism, Social Science, Fiction, Biography & Autobiography height: 0.3 in Author: Fleur Jaeggy Language: English Item Weight: 2.5 Oz width: 5 in Publication Year: 2017 Item Width: 5 in Topic: Poetry, Literary, Essays, European / English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh Item Height: 0.3 in Format: Trade Paperback Number of Pages: 64 Pages Item Length: 7 in Book Title: These Possible Lives Publisher: New Directions Publishing Corporation

Description

These Possible Lives, Paperback by Jaeggy, Fleur; Proctor, Minna Zallman (TRN.... A renowned stylist ofhyper-brevity in fiction, Fleur Jaeggy proves herself an even more concise master of the essay form, albeit in a most peculiar and lapidary poetic vein. In a book of “blue devils” and night visions, the Keats essay opens: “In 1803, the guillotine was a common child’s toy.”. These Possible Lives, Paperback by Jaeggy, Fleur; Proctor, Minna Zallman (TRN), ISBN 0811226875, ISBN-13 9780811226875, Brand New, Free shipping in the US New Directions is proud to present Fleur Jaeggy’s strange and mesmerizing essays about the writers Thomas De Quincey, John Keats, and Marcel Schwob. A renowned stylist ofhyper-brevity in fiction, Fleur Jaeggy proves herself an even more concise master of the essay form, albeit in a most peculiar and lapidary poetic vein. Of De Quincey’s early nineteenth-century world we hear of the habits of writers: Charles Lamb “spoke of 'Lilliputian rabbits’ when eating frog fricassse”; Henry Fuseli “ate a diet of raw meat in order to obtain splendid dreams”; “Hazlitt was perceptive about musculature and boxers”; and “Wordsworth used a buttery knife to cut the pages of a first-edition Burke.” In a book of “blue devils” and night visions, the Keats essay opens: “In 1803, the guillotine was a common child’s toy.” And poor Schwob’s end comes as he feels “like a 'dog cut open alive’”: “His face colored slightly, turning into a mask of gold. His eyes stayed open imperiously. No one could shut his eyelids. The room smoked of grief.” Fleur Jaeggy’s essays—or are they prose poems?—smoke of necessity: the pages are on fire.