/lit/ - Literature

Who's your favorite saint, /lit/?

Pic related. It's my girl Tekakwitha. Jesus is also in the picture, you just can't see him.

>>2640029
Or make like Werther and peace out. Speaking of Werther...

“All the knowledge I possess every one else can acquire, but my heart is exclusively my own.”

>>2638442
>>2638443
Whatever.

There's an army of people behind me who aren't nit-picking introverts.

It's in motherfucking English, you may as well read them scratched on bathroom mirrors.

I'm going to be narcissistic and hijack this with my recent buys. God knows why. While I was contorting my torso to position my laptop for it to take a photo of these books with reasonable clarity I was constantly thinking 'They don't care, this is waste of time, my back hurts, I feel like an idiot in this bathroom, etc.'

Blue fuel

>>2634163
There, you've read every Bukowski poem. Now there's no need to buy one of his books!

>>2633841
Yeah, like acting and dancing.

William Faulkner, obviously.
Also William T. Vollmann. He writes self-serious historical fiction on foolish men in perilous situations.

>Age?
18 years
>Are you a regular /lit/izen?
Yes, I browse every day. readingismylife.jpg
>Add something you want
I will be studying performance art at SUNY Purchase College come August. Very excited!

GTFO Franco

You are a professor of literature at a private university and you are allowed to design a syllabus. What would it consist of? Mine follows:

Short stories:
The Man of the Crowd by Edgar Allan Poe
An Imperial Message by Franz Kafka

Poetry volumes:
Songs of Innocence and Experience by William Blake
Deaths and Entrances by Dylan Thomas
High Windows by Philip Larkin

Plays:
Krapp's Last Tape by Samuel Beckett
The Threepenny Opera by Bertolt Brecht

Novels:
Urien's Voyage by Andre Gide
Our Lady of the Flowers by Jean Genet

Pic, as always, unrelated.

Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child.
And he, laughing, said to me,

“Pipe a song about a Lamb,”
So I piped with merry chear.
“Piper, pipe that song again—”
So I piped, he wept to hear.

“Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe
Sing thy songs of happy chear,”
So I sung the same again,
While he wept with joy to hear.

“Piper, sit thee down and write
In a book that all may read—”
So he vanished from my sight,
And I pluck’d a hollow reed.

And I made a rural pen,
And I stained the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs,
Every child may joy to hear.

"Death and the Maiden", Egon Schiele

"Christina's World", Andrew Wyeth

If getting a paper cut was my Bob Saget, then The Holocaust was my John Stamos.

>post my fiction on /lit/
>everyone shoos me away if i even get attention at all
>OP gets lots of praise even though i see my work as being basically comparable to his

how about this pregnant kernel of a Leonard Cohen song

It's true that all the men you knew were dealers
who said they were through with dealing
Every time you gave them shelter
I know that kind of man
It's hard to hold the hand of anyone
who is reaching for the sky just to surrender
who is reaching for the sky just to surrender.

And then sweeping up the jokers that he left behind
you find he did not leave you very much not even laughter
Like any dealer he was watching for the card
that is so high and wild
he'll never need to deal another
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger.

And then leaning on your window sill
he'll say one day you caused his will
to weaken with your love and warmth and shelter
And then taking from his wallet
an old schedule of trains, he'll say
I told you when I came I was a stranger
I told you when I came I was a stranger.
...
Well, I've been waiting, I was sure
we'd meet between the trains we're waiting for
I think it's time to board another
Please understand, I never had a secret chart
to get me to the heart of this
or any other matter
When he talks like this
you don't know what he's after
When he speaks like this,
you don't know what he's after.

Let's meet tomorrow if you choose
upon the shore, beneath the bridge
that they are building on some endless river
Then he leaves the platform
for the sleeping car that's warm
You realize, he's only advertising one more shelter
And it comes to you, he never was a stranger
And you say ok the bridge or someplace later.


And leaning on your window sill ...
I told you when I came I was a stranger.

>>2619975
>>2619972
These two and Europe Central by William T. Vollmann form a bit of a trifecta.

Look at this nigga! He's trying to make friends with a book!

Try to make a plot summary based on your captcha.
Mine: "ngconsh present"

A cosmic horror novella (read: Lovecraft ripoff) about a businessman who inexplicably finds himself in the domain of Ng'consh, a sleeping god. After witnessing a nightmarish procession dreamed by Ng'consh, he is transported back to New York. Although his continues his occupation, he is constantly haunted by the things he saw in Ng'consh's dream-realm.

So it's like The Call of C'thulu meets Saul Bellow.

>Good
>Book

Choose one

Daily dose?

Actually, I also have that book. So I guess I'm as intelligent as Sasha Grey...?