Extreme complexity (Lezama Lima) or extreme simplicity (the red wheelbarrow; the medieval
cancionero). I'm attracted to those two extremes more than to the middle ranges. A text so simple there is seemingly nothing to be said about it. or a text so complex that there is everything to be said about it.
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I tend to aspire to the former, but I also enjoy reading the latter.
This reminds me of the highbrow / lowbrow obsessions (law of the excluded middlebrow) typical of a certain mutt-breed of American intellectual, except in the other direction: pieces so obsessively self-analytical that it would be boring to say anything more about them (unless you're an academic and paid to do so) and pieces which lightly convey so many complex assumptions that it's a thrill to start unpacking them.
Yeah, I'm that kind of mutt intellectual.
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