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*Silliman. What. 1988. 127 pp.
Everyone's been telling me to read this book, so I dug it out of the box. I remembered the cover as being somehow purple, and my memory is partially correct: there's an extraordinary painting by John Moore on the cover, with a purplish violet sky and bay. The title of the book and the author's name appear in violet against a non-purple part of this cover.
It's interesting to see how a work that follows essentially the same pattern in its various manifestations changes from book to book. What has a different flavor from Lit or Paradise. It is somehow happier, sunnier.
Fewer bad vibes, but I also remember the line breaks prompting more startling shifts from sentence to sentence. Now *I've* got to dig it up and go back through -- thank you for that.
ResponderEliminarI sold my copy of What when I moved from Minnesota to New York.
ResponderEliminarI sold well over 1,000 books then, many of them what I assumed I'd be able to get again in NYC someday.
Mostly, I was wrong about that.