And yet the time spent in this book, in this world of language, is absolutely rewarded. When you exit these pages after that month of reading, you are a better person. It’s insane, but also hard to deny. Your brain is stronger because it’s been given a month-long workout, and more importantly, your heart is sturdier, for there has scarcely been written a more moving account of desperation, depression, addiction, generational stasis and yearning, or the obsession with human expectations, with artistic and athletic and intellectual possibility. The themes here are big, and the emotions (guarded as they are) are very real, and the cumulative effect of the book is, you could say, seismic [laweekly].
eggers introduces infinite jest
Huh. This is a weird welcome back to my annual visit of the old Livejournal friendship page. It reminds me of how, at the time, I thought it was…
The aftermath of the election makes it seem like we're all in for a very serious emo time, better suited to journaling than yelling on Facebook, yet…
Hey. it does!