dark with the consciousness of human fate, and besotted with the high adjectival style of that consciousness as it lifts a coming-of-age narrative to the level of brilliant chiaroscuro meditation
ughhhh i love the way he writes
"Elbows off the table!” A cheerful and peremptory call to manners that has vast stretches of childhood in it.
damn great word
It is a sort of kore myth transposed upward, a Gnostic retelling in which the love of life, the moment of its blossoming and ceremony, traps us
wtf
I did not get much of a sense of the poetry of Kim Nam-ju. It was, of course, unavailable. The few poems I did see were unpublished English translations of what seemed like youthful work. There was a description of a field, I remember, seen from a prison train, a sense of homesickness. Another poet…
And we leave the deeper thing in the work of art, which is also famously the most ineffable, its tone or mood, which is like a sensation of echo, which we often take away quite mutely and quietly
