Autor Thema: Mein letztes Buch  (Gelesen 52736 mal)

Offline MoRe99

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Re: Mein letztes Buch
« Antwort #420 am: 14. Jul. 18, 11:09 »
Nächstes Buch: "Der Totenmacher" von Stuart MacBride. Kenne den Autor gar nicht, was die Sache spannend macht.

Tja, was soll ich sagen.  :noidea:  Der Plot war recht interessant, die (eigentliche) Geschichte insgesamt auch recht gut erzählt, auch wenn mir rund 40 Seiten vor dem Ende schon ziemlich klar war, wer der Täter ist. Was mich gestört hat waren zwei Dinge. Zum einen ist das, was dem "Helden" der Geschichte in den über 700 Seiten passiert, etwas zuviel des Guten. Weniger wäre da mehr gewesen. Und zum anderen war ich mit der Zeit echt genervt darüber, dass den handelnden Figuren sowas wie "Arggghhh" oder "Grmwwwwhhmmhh" (keine Zitate, aber ähnlich wie im Buch) in den Mund gelegt wurde. Hatte was von Sprechblasen bei Comics. Dort stört mich das nicht, aber in einem Roman kann ich mich nicht damit anfreunden. Hat mir den Spaß am Lesen phasenweise genommen. Ob ich mir ein weiteres Buch des Autors antun werde? Da bin ich mir noch nicht so sicher.
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Offline The Leprechaun

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Re: Mein letztes Buch
« Antwort #421 am: 14. Jul. 18, 20:39 »
"Märzgefallene" von Volker Kutscher habe ich durch.
Es gehört zur "Gereon Rath Reihe" die als Grundlage von Babylon Berlin dient.
Fand die Story gut und hoffe, dass sie uns in irgendeiner Staffel von BB begegnen wird. Rath muss einen Kriminalfall lösen der im 1. Weltkrieg seinen Ursprung hat.

« Letzte Änderung: 14. Jul. 18, 20:41 von The Leprechaun »
NFL:       49ers
1.BL:      1. FC Köln
P. League: Everton FC 
College:   ND Fighting Irish
MLB:       Cleveland Indians
NHL:       Anaheim Ducks



NIL SATIS NISI OPTIMUM

Offline TheRealReubenFoster

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Re: Mein letztes Buch
« Antwort #422 am: 17. Jul. 18, 22:23 »
All streets of the City slope down between deepening canyons to a vast, kidney-shaped plaza full of darkness. Walls of street and plaza are perforated by dwelling cubicles and cafés, some a few feet deep, others extending out of sight in a network of rooms and corridors.

At all levels criss-cross of bridges, cat walks, cable cars. Catatonic youths dressed as women in gowns of burlap and rotten rags, faces heavily and crudely painted in bright colors over a strata of beatings, arabesques of broken, suppurating scars to the pearly bone, push against the passers-by in silent clinging insistence.

Traffickers in the Black Meat, flesh of the giant aquatic black centipede – sometimes attaining a length of six feet – found in a lane of black rocks and iridescent, brown lagoons, exhibit paralyzed crustaceans in camouflage pockets of the Plaza visible only to the Meat Eaters.

Followers of obsolete unthinkable trades, doodling in Etruscan, addicts of drugs not yet synthesized, black marketeers of World War III, excisors of telepathic sensitivity, osteopaths of the spirit, investigators of infractions denounced by bland paranoid chess players, servers of fragmentary warrants taken down in hebephrenic shorthand charging unspeakable mutilations of the spirit, officials of unconstituted police states, brokers of exquisite dreams and nostalgias tested on the sensitized cells of junk sickness and bartered for raw materials of the will, drinkers of the Heavy Fluid sealed in translucent amber of dreams.

The Meet Café occupies one side of the Plaza, a maze of kitchens, restaurants, sleeping cubicles, perilous iron balconies and basements opening into the underground baths.

On stools covered in white satin sit naked Mugwumps sucking translucent, colored syrups through alabaster straws. Mugwumps have no liver and nourish themselves exclusively on sweets. Thin, purple-blue lips cover a razor-sharp beak of black bone with which they frequently tear each other to shreds in fights over clients. These creatures secrete an addicting fluid from their erect penises which prolongs life by slowing metabolism. (In fact all longevity agents have proved addicting in exact ratio to their effectiveness in prolonging life.) Addicts of Mugwump fluid are known as Reptiles. A number of these flow over chairs with their flexible bones and black-pink flesh. A fan of green cartilage covered with hollow, erectile hairs through which the Reptiles absorb the fluid sprouts from behind each ear. The fans, which move from time to time touched by invisible currents, serve also some form of communication known only to Reptiles.

During the biennial Panics when the raw, pealed Dream Police storm the City, the Mugwumps take refuge in the deepest crevices of the wall sealing themselves in clay cubicles and remain for weeks in biostasis. In those days of grey terror the Reptiles dart about faster and faster, scream past each other at supersonic speed, their flexible skulls flapping in black winds of insect agony.

The Dream Police disintegrate in globs of rotten ectoplasm swept away by an old junky, coughing and spitting in the sick morning. The Mugwump Man comes with alabaster jars of fluid and the Reptiles get smoothed out.

The air is once again still and clear as glycerine.

aus William S. Burroughs: Naked Lunch

Das ist ein Tipp für Leute, die auch auf ein bisschen (oder sehr) abgedrehte, aber wirklich gute, hochwertige Literatur stehen! Besser geht es kaum. Ein Beat-Klassiker übrigens.

Ergänzung: Wer es auf Deutsch lesen möchte (falls das überhaupt jemanden interessiert), sollte sich wohl die "ursprüngliche Ausgabe" holen. Das sagt dieser Artikel, der aber auch sonst recht interessant ist: http://www.faz.net/aktuell/feuilleton/buecher/rezensionen/belletristik/william-s-burroughs-naked-lunch-der-kassenarzt-der-vorhoelle-1881589.html
« Letzte Änderung: 17. Jul. 18, 23:09 von TheRealReubenFoster »

Offline MaybeDavis

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Re: Mein letztes Buch
« Antwort #423 am: 18. Jul. 18, 21:31 »
Kenne nur die Verfilmung von David Cronenberg, und das sagt ja schon aus dass das Buch auch abgedreht sein muss  ;D
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Offline MaybeDavis

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Re: Mein letztes Buch
« Antwort #424 am: 18. Jul. 18, 21:32 »
@RealReubenFoster:
Hatte mir ja Sartres Ekel bestellt und hab jetzt so 20% gelesen. Gefällt bis jetzt sehr gut! Danke für den Tip...
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Offline TheRealReubenFoster

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Re: Mein letztes Buch
« Antwort #425 am: 18. Jul. 18, 22:36 »
@MaybeDavis:
Der Film ist zwar auch ziemlich gut, hat aber in Wirklichkeit kaum etwas mit dem Buch Naked Lunch zu tun. Der setzt sich zusammen aus biografischen Elementen (z.B. das Burroughs aus Versehen seine Frau erschossen hat mit der Wilhelm-Tell-Nummer + einige weitere) und Motiven fast aus seinem gesamten Werk. Da tauchen auch Sachen z.B. aus "The Soft Machine" und "The Ticket That Exploded" auf. Und frei assoziierte - was Burroughs sicher gefallen hätte. Das Buch Naked Lunch ist aber noch deutlich abgedrehter und ja, da hat Schneider in seinem Artikel Recht, vielleicht der immer noch radikalste Roman, der je geschrieben wurde.

"Hatte mir ja Sartres Ekel bestellt und hab jetzt so 20% gelesen. Gefällt bis jetzt sehr gut! Danke für den Tip..."

Sehr gerne und freut mich, wenn es Dir gefällt. Musst mal Dein Fazit abgeben, wenn Du ganz durch bist damit!

Offline TheRealReubenFoster

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Re: Mein letztes Buch
« Antwort #426 am: 18. Jul. 18, 23:42 »
Noch eine Stelle gefunden. Danach lass ich Euch mit diesem Buch in Ruhe ::)


Did I ever tell you about the time Marv and me pay two Arab kids sixty cents to watch them screw each other? So I ask Marv: “Do you think they will do it?”

And he says: “I think so. They are hungry.”

And I say: "That's the way I like to see them."

Makes me feel sorta like a dirty old man but, "Son cosas de la vida," as Sobera de la Flor said when the fuzz upbraids him for blasting this cunt and taking the dead body to the Bar O Motel and fucking it....

"She play hard to get already," he say... "I don't hafta take that sound." (Sobera de la Flor was a Mexican criminal convict of several rather pointless murders.)


The lavatory has been locked for three hours solid…. I think they are using it for an operating room….

NURSE: “I can’t find her pulse, doctor.”

DR. BENWAY: “Maybe she got it up her snatch in a finger stall.”

NURSE: “Adrenalin, doctor?”

DR. BENWAY: “The night porter shot it all up for kicks.” He looks around and picks up one of those rubber vacuum cups at the end of a stick they use to unstop toilets…. He advances on the patient…. “Make an incision, Doctor Limpf,” he says to his appalled assistant…. “I’m going to massage the heart.”

Dr. Limpf shrugs and begins the incision. Dr. Benway washes the suction cup by swishing it around in the toilet-bowl….

NURSE: “Shouldn’t it be sterilized, doctor?”

DR. BENWAY: “Very likely but there’s no time.” He sits on the suction cup like a cane seat watching his assistant make the incision…. “You young squirts couldn’t lance a pimple without an electric vibrating scalpel with automatic drain and suture…. Soon we’ll be operating by remote control on patients we never see…. We’ll be nothing but button pushers. All the skill is going out of surgery…. All the know-how and make-do… Did I ever tell you about the time I performed an appendectomy with a rusty sardine can? And once I was caught short without instrument one and removed a uterine tumor with my teeth. That was in the Upper Effendi, and besides…”

DR. LIMPF: “The incision is ready, doctor.”

Dr. Benway forces the cup into the incision and works it up and down. Blood spurts all over the doctors, the nurse and the wall…. The cup makes a horrible sucking sound.

NURSE: “I think she’s gone, doctor.”

DR. BENWAY: “Well, it’s all in the day’s work.” He walks across the room to a medicine cabinet…. “Some fucking drug addict has cut my cocaine with Saniflush! Nurse! Send the boy out to fill this RX on the double!”

Dr. Benway is operating in an auditorium filled with students: “Now, boys, you won’t see this operation performed very often and there’s a reason for that…. You see it has absolutely no medical value. No one knows what the purpose of it originally was or if it had a purpose at all. Personally I think it was a pure artistic creation from the beginning.

“Just as a bull fighter with his skill and knowledge extricates himself from danger he has himself invoked, so in this operation the surgeon deliberately endangers his patient, and then, with incredible speed and celerity, rescues him from death at the last possible split second…. Did any of you ever see Dr. Tetrazzini perform? I say perform advisedly because his operations were performances. He would start by throwing a scalpel across the room into the patient and then make his entrance like a ballet dancer. His speed was incredible: ‘I don’t give them time to die,’ he would say. Tumors put him in a frenzy of rage. ‘Fucking undisciplined cells!’ he would snarl, advancing on the tumor like a knife-fighter.”

A young man leaps down into the operating theatre and, whipping out a scalpel, advances on the patient.

DR. BENWAY: “An espontaneo! Stop him before he guts my patient!”

(Espontaneo is a bull-fighting term for a member of the audience who leaps down into the ring, pulls out a concealed cape and attempts a few passes with the bull before he is dragged out of the ring.)

The orderlies scuffle with the espontaneo, who is finally ejected from the hall. The anesthetist takes advantage of the confusion to pry a large gold filling from the patient’s mouth….

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