Bookmarker is a personal project by @dellsystem to help with retaining reading material. Source on GitHub.

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3 years, 2 months ago

the coherence between subject and treatment project/dispatches

The obvious answer is: with great difficulty. Indeed, En rade, which follows À rebours, is a disappointing book. How could it not be? And yet if its faults, its air of stagnation and slow decline, never quite overcome our pleasure in reading it, this is thanks to a stroke of genius on Huysmans’ par…

—p.36 Submission by Michel Houellebecq
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3 years, 2 months ago

why did a life need to be justified?

After Myriam left, I kept to myself for more than a week. For the first time since I’d been made a professor, I didn’t even feel up to teaching my Wednesday classes. The intellectual summits of my life had been completing my dissertation and publishing my book, and that was already more than ten ye…

—p.35 by Michel Houellebecq
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3 years, 2 months ago

where the fuck was Rapid Sushi

‘No, not depressed. In a sense it’s worse. You’ve always had this weird kind of honesty, like an inability to make the compromises that everyone has to make, in the end, just to go about their lives. Let’s say you’re right about patriarchy, that it’s the only viable solution. Where does that leave …

—p.30 by Michel Houellebecq
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3 years, 2 months ago

you have to take an interest in something

[...] I watched the hypotheses flicker across her sharp old features. You have to take an interest in something in life, I told myself. I wondered what could interest me, now that I was finished with love. I could take a course in wine tasting, maybe, or start collecting model airplanes.

—p.24 by Michel Houellebecq
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3 years, 2 months ago

a vague dissertation on Rimbaud

[...] He’d almost always invite me for a drink – usually mint tea in the Paris Mosque, a few blocks from the university. I didn’t like mint tea, or the Paris Mosque, and I didn’t much like Steve, but still I went. I think he was grateful for my company, because he wasn’t really respected by his col…

—p.17 by Michel Houellebecq