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So it's been about a year since I read Arabian Nights (>>54901
) and last night I was staring at the ceiling before going to bed and out of nowhere felt like going through it again and started reading. Not sure why, I think it's because it turns out it's my favorite literary work out there. This was not obvious to me until very recently but it's becoming clearer now. Let's see how a second reading feels like. I feel like this book is everything I look for in literature. Weird fantasy, horror, mystery. It feels exotic and outlandish and you never follow the same people for long. You catch them at the turn of the tide, just before the angel of death comes for them. It races through this odd, tragic world at a steady pace, highlighting the shitshow that is humanity. Beasts, monsters, men and succubi who in their fear and ignorance become even more cruel and unpredictable than a Djinn. Ghouls feeding their young with the flesh of a young prince. Warm colors of a beautiful palace, where the powerful fill their stomachs with delicate pastries in a hurry, before their inevitable demise. The peaceful, lulling sounds of a gentle breeze in the desert. Dromedaries feeding on the flowers of an Acacia tree under a clear bright sky. Fishermen dreaming about rings of sorcery inside the belly of a blue tilapia. Forgotten ruins, forgotten, sleeping demons. I want to go back to those places again and when you read it, for a moment, you're there.
Also I got a warning for posting 'test' on the previous thread. Apologies, I wanted to check if it was still bumping and forgot to delete it.
anyway, yes, bukowski is very relatable to anyone that isnt too stuck up their own ass, and his voice is relaxing
Why do normalfags seem to prefer fiction over non-fiction? It seems like the ones who read at all, only read fiction.
non-fiction and fiction are basically the same thing unless you're reading math's text books or something.
Philosophy, History etc are fiction
I spend hundreds of hours reading chan posts but I can't spend more than 10 minutes reading a book. I have a kobo and shelves full of books collecting dust.
This. It's all about the quality of the writing and thoughts.>>62652
It's because of (y)our internet addiction. I'm trying to minimize this useless time.
>>62651>Philosophy, History etc are fiction
How is history fiction?
I finished volume two in August and I'm going to start volume three in the winter, it feels fitting. My friends only read the core (first few stories) and mock me for continuing since they say it repeats and, while I admit some elements repeat, the similar stories are unique in their differences. Also, the repetition almost becomes a metacomment on it because of the repetition and fatalism within stories. Honestly a great work. I appreciate it that you recommended it. It has affected my worldview greatly, to the point that I'm much more fatalistic and yet this has brought me peace I never had. Shit will happen and yet I'll shrug and say "that's life." It is odd, having your "self" affected by a series of stories.
Historiography is an interesting subject
Glad you like it. The very act of reading all the stories plays an important part on the feelings the book is trying to convey. I read somewhere that for the scribes of the time, the number 1001 meant an enormous amount, like for us would be 1 million nights or something. When I was reading through I definitely felt boredom and tiredness but those feelings blend with the stories quite well actually and they become sort of a comforting haze. For me at least. The lenght and casual repetition really works in favor of the book.
Besides, every piece of fiction has some sort of repetition going on, it's not something exclusive to this one.
>A Confession, Leo Tolstoy
In this little book Tolstoy is confronted with the daunting problem of mortality, death and finding meaning in life when one is confronted with such abyss. The book is an essay and it could act as perfect comment to the Death of Ivan Ilyich.
The realization that death is unavoidable and that each second we are close to it no matter what we do, drove Tolstoy to a severe disenchantment with life and an excruciating mental pain.
The problem looks cliche but Tolstoy genius manages to convey the severity of the situation perfectly. We usually disregard death and meaning of life as something cliche but we can easily do that because we are absorbed by routine, daily chores, normal plans and goals. However, if one deeply thinks about death and how it will happen any day, well, I guarantee that you will feel creeping fear and disgust through your whole body.
Tosltoy was trapped in this situation, he couldn't stop thinking about death and that feeling completely ruined life for him. Life lost his charm.
Tolstoy first looked for answers in philosophy and science. This exploration only reinforced his hopelessness. Schopenhauer, Ecclesiastes, natural sciences: all of them reach the same conclusion: existence is grounded in nothing and death will destroy us all. Tolstoy was considering suicide at this point.
The unique solution for Tolstoy was Christianity. He argued that either you follow the conclusions of conventional human knowledge and you kill yourself or you resort to faith and you live. That's the only solution for him.
As the smart man he was, he couldn't ignore the coercive nature of religion and how it is and instrument of the status quo and power to control the masses. Yet, he still somehow clang to faith as the sole anchor to sustain life. Faith and hope has sustained people for millennia.
I think that pain was unbearable to Tolstoy and for that reason he resorted to faith. In my opinion, he deceived himself. However, it is very interesting to see the fears, pains and thoughts of a genius man like Tolstoy. Recommended book
>>62915> There is an Eastern fable, told long ago, of a traveller overtaken on a plain by an enraged beast. Escaping from the beast he gets into a dry well, but sees at the bottom of the well a dragon that has opened its jaws to swallow him. And the unfortunate man, not daring to climb out lest he should be destroyed by the enraged beast, and not daring to leap to the bottom of the well lest he should be eaten by the dragon, seizes s twig growing in a crack in the well and clings to it. His hands are growing weaker and he feels he will soon have to resign himself to the destruction that awaits him above or below, but still he clings on. Then he sees that two mice, a black one and a white one, go regularly round and round the stem of the twig to which he is clinging and gnaw at it. And soon the twig itself will snap and he will fall into the dragon's jaws. The traveller sees this and knows that he will inevitably perish; but while still hanging he looks around, sees some drops of honey on the leaves of the twig, reaches them with his tongue and licks them. So I too clung to the twig of life, knowing that the dragon of death was inevitably awaiting me, ready to tear me to pieces; and I could not understand why I had fallen into such torment. I tried to lick the honey which formerly consoled me, but the honey no longer gave me pleasure, and the white and black mice of day and night gnawed at the branch by which I hung. I saw the dragon clearly and the honey no longer tasted sweet. I only saw the unescapable dragon and mice, and I could not tear my gaze from them. and this is not a fable but the real unanswerable truth intelligible to all. The deception of the joys of life which formerly allayed my terror of the dragon now no longer deceived me. No matter how often I may be told, "You cannot understand the meaning of life so do not think about it, but live," I can no longer do it: I have already done it too long. I cannot now help seeing day and night going round and bringing me to death. That is all I see, for that alone is true. All else is false. The two drops of honey which diverted my eyes from the cruel truth longer than the rest: my love of family, and of writing – art as I called it – were no longer sweet to me. "Family"… said I to myself. But my family – wife and children – are also human. They are placed just as I am: they must either live in a lie or see the terrible truth. Why should they live? Why should I love them, guard them, bring them up, or watch them? That they may come to the despair that I feel, or else be stupid? Loving them, I cannot hide the truth from them: each step in knowledge leads them to the truth. And the truth is death.
"Notes from the Underground" by Dovstoyesky is the obvious recommendation: low status crab in 1800 Russia. It will resonate with most crabs but it could also work for wizards, if they still want other's respect.
You can also check something like "Hunger" by Knut Hamsun in 1800 Oslo:
"autobiographical novel recounting the abject poverty, hunger and despair of a young writer"
I wonder if there are any modern books that deal with low status male, not a novel, more like a non fiction one, any good wizard knows about it?
very vague when you say 'low status male'. If you mean crab you should just say that
No crab per se, but kind of marginalize male, outside of society, could be crabs, I'm interested about lives of low status male in general.
> The Fugitive, Marcel Proust
I'm now near the end of In Search of Lost Time. The events in this volume were rather anticlimactic.
The previous volume, The Prisoner, ended with Albertine breaking with Marcel, our narrator. The first section of this volume explores the attempts of our narrator to bring back Albertine and his mental state of denial (he tries to think that nothing serious happened and Albertine will return easily at any moment).
The first anticlimactic event is then the death of Albertine. Nothing announced it and it felt more like an "ass pull" to somehow conclude the relation between the narrator and Albertine.
However, after that plot twist, we again see the brilliance of Proust when the volume submerges in the mental process of the narrator digesting Albertine's death. The fear of separation and the nostalgia of the lost time and persons but that are still present in our minds are topics that flourish here as they have done in the best moments in the series.
Finally, after being desiring it through various volumes, our narrator travels to Venice with his mom. Such iconic city gives us also great passages from Proust.
Before the travel, Gilberte appeared again in the narrator's life and upon Albertine's death, Gilberte looks like a new hope. At Venice, the narrator receives a telegram, later revealed that it was from Gilberte asking something very important.
The volume ends with another plot twist when our narrator discovers that his best friend, Saint Loup is now engaged and will marry Gilberte. Our narrator is devastated and feels betrayed. Moreover, Saint Loup unexpectedly also turned homosexual following the steps of his uncle Charlus.
>>63076> For Albertine’s death to have suppressed my suffering, the mortal blow would have had to kill her not only in Touraine, but within me. There, she had never been more alive. To enter inside us, people have been obliged to take on the form and to fit into the framework of time; appearing to us only in successive instants, they have never managed to reveal to us more than one aspect, print more than a single photograph of themselves at a time. This is no doubt a great weakness in human beings, to consist in a simple collection of moments; yet a great strength too; they depend on memory, and our memory of a moment is not informed of everything that has happened since, the moment which it registered still lives on and, with it, the person whose form was sketched within it. And then this fragmentation not only makes the dead person live on, it multiplies her forms. In order to console myself, I would have had to forget not one but innumerable Albertines. When I had succeeded in accepting the grief of having lost one of them, I would have to begin again with another, with a hundred others.
The only booktube channels I find watchable are people that read pulp/fantasy stuff. They speak with such enthusiasm about the stuff they like it's a little bit contagious. I almost never read that stuff at all. So finally I decided to give it a shot at Burroughs, a very famous, well praised author by fantasy readers. I picked A Princess of Mars since I liked the idea of some guy going to another planet where he can fight aliens with medieval weaponry.
It's complete trash. lol
I don't know exactly what I was expecting it, but what I got is a story where a guy named John Carter solves all his problems by jumping really high. It felt like reading a golden age DC comics story. Jumping. That's all he does really. It's like a Coyote and Road Runner episode. All Road Runner has to do is run really fast. For Carter is jumping really high. Then he falls in love with a human princess from the human kingdom of Mars and by jumping really high he overcomes all the obstacles, kill all the bad guys and get the succubus. OK. The only interesting character development we get is of an alien called Sola and what's going on with her but that stuff barely comes up during the story, though it's easily the better part of this tale.
The funny thing about this book is that it presents a serious problem for the hero to solve right at the end, a problem John Carter can't solve by jumping really high, but then the novel ends! Better get him out of there, his jumping can only go so far. Tthat said I actually liked it for what it is. I don't think it deserves a series of 11 books, one is enough. I can see how hugely influential this stuff is for comic books, it reads like one.
It is trash, but in a honest, straightfoward manner. It doesn't try to be anything else and for that reason it works. It will be specially amusing to you if you're a reader of better literature. I finished Dead Souls and went straight to this, it's quite a change of pace, let's put it that way. The only thing Burroughs cares about is putting John Carter in situations he can solve by punching really hard or jumping really high. The ending is actually good and an obvious cliff-hanger. Not much of a mystery to us since we already know 10 books of more nonsense followed after this.
I say it's trash but it has a charm to it, it's literature from the days authors like him didn't feel like they were walking on eggs at every sentence. He wanted to tell a tale of high adventure about a guy using a rapier to fight against evil aliens and that's what he did. It silly, it's funny, it works. I'll not be reading 11 books of this schlock but it works. My favorite pulp author remains Clark Ashton Smith. He's the only guy I read that can mix the silly shit with more polished, interesting language. Sure, he's still writing about a super evil wizard called Maal Dweb, but he can do it better than most.
jumping is hardly the problem with the story when he has the strength of like 50 martians. they gave him too much power. he could easily just butcher everyone with brute force
Any great books about wizard, shut-ins, neets and crabs?
Against Nature by Joris-Karl Huysmans. I'm yet to read it but it has taken my interest.>a decadent, ailing aristocrat who retreats to an isolated villa where he indulges his taste for luxury and excess. Veering between nervous excitability and debilitating ennui, he gluts his aesthetic appetites with classical literature and art, exotic jewels (with which he fatally encrusts the shell of his tortoise), rich perfumes, and a kaleidoscope of sensual experiences.
The only thing I don't expect to like about it and what other neets may not like about is that main character is an aristocrat which isn't at all relatable.
literature on the Desert Fathers may be a good read as well.
And I wonder if the book based on the 'North pond hermit' 'The Stranger in the Woods' might be of interest as well.
You would think super strength wouldn't make much difference against extraordinary sharpshooters that can hit a coin half a continent away with their rifles. Carter was quite lucky the martians would use their elite shooting skills and excelent guns against everyone else but him. It is a pulpy 1900s fantasy adventure novel after all, I think it has its place but I would be surprised at anyone liking this enough to read 11 novels of it, unless they're doing it for completion's sake. Maybe someone who's really into comics would appreciate it as a historical curiosity.
the setting is what i liked, and because i keep in mind when it was written (over 100 years ago now), i'm able to enjoy it. also really like the artwork and what this genre developed into later on
it is weak on its own without context however
>>63097>also really like the artwork and what this genre developed into later on
You mean Sword and Planet as a genre? I tried to read more SaP stuff but I simply could not find anything that is not an outright clone or pastiche of A Princess of Mars. I tried to read The Maker of Universes and Transit to Scorpio but they keep so incredibly close to Burroughs I dropped it. It was a little disappointing and that's my experience with the genre.Would mind mentioning a couple of authors working in this sort of fiction that is worthy checking out? I didn't find any but then again I didn't try that hard to find it.
Just finished Stoner by John Williams. It was a solid work, but Goddamn is Edith annoying. His daughter annoyed me too, but not as much as his wife. Great prose, but I started to lose interest towards the end. 8/10
Currently reading Zero K by Don DeLilo, a sci-fi novel about people approaching death put in a kind of cryostasis until medicine/science can find a way to stop aging/death. It's good so far, some boring parts, but I'm interested. Never read a Don deLilo book before; I like his style of short, descriptive sentences. Feels very American. After I finish this, I'm going to tackle either The Iliad or The Necrophiliac book (the latter because I enjoy twisted shit like that, loved American PSycho, the book and the film).
hyperion by simmons. The author was obviously just making up the universe as we went along. Indulgent and often boring, although the core setting is interesting. Ends on a contrived cliffhanger. Later books are apparently terrible
>History and Utopia, Emil Cioran
This book is a compilation of 5-6 Cioran essays about the nature of history. Cioran approach to history is apocalyptic and messianic. He feels a morbid fascination with civilizations at the verge of death and extinction, those who have lost the will to live and are now mere bystanders awaiting to be swept away by the maelstrom of history. He's fascinated with things like being the last ancient Greek, the last roman pagan, the Aztecs upon the imminent defeat against the Spanish. He himself feels that western man is in the same state and all of his convictions and gods have died.
For Cioran, the impulse of history lies in our most irrational and brutal side. History can't go forward without barbarism and once the conscience of man have totally flourished and realized the pointlessness of all, then exhaustion, stagnation and eventual extinction come.
Cioran felt that West is depleted and thought that the torch of history would be carried by eastern europe and Russia where he saw primal energy still lingering (he wrote these essays when Soviet Union was in his prime). Now we can say that this prophecy was wrong and he was more searching for a dark messiah that would finally kill the decadent western civilization. It was more an inner desire of being one of the last men of a dying civilization rather than a serious prophecy.
He was wrong but anyway sooner or later this civilization will perish and that security and the realization that history is an endless display of barbarism and masses moved by the madness of convictions, awaiting for the final disaster, make this little book very touching.
This was some of the most fatalistic Cioran works and it reminds me other writers like Albert Caraco
> Life without utopia is suffocating, for the multitude at least: threatened otherwise with petrifaction, the world must have a new madness.
>>63125> He feels a morbid fascination with civilizations at the verge of death and extinction, those who have lost the will to live and are now mere bystanders awaiting to be swept away by the maelstrom of history. He's fascinated with things like being the last ancient Greek, the last roman pagan, the Aztecs upon the imminent defeat against the Spanish. He himself feels that western man is in the same state and all of his convictions and gods have died.
I also like reading death of civilizations more than their rise.
> History can't go forward without barbarism and once the conscience of man have totally flourished and realized the pointlessness of all, then exhaustion, stagnation and eventual extinction come.
This is so true that I have no words.
> Cioran felt that West is depleted and thought that the torch of history would be carried by eastern europe and Russia where he saw primal energy still lingering (he wrote these essays when Soviet Union was in his prime). Now we can say that this prophecy was wrong and he was more searching for a dark messiah that would finally kill the decadent western civilization. It was more an inner desire of being one of the last men of a dying civilization rather than a serious prophecy
He wasn’t wrong about this as western civilization dying and will be replaced by africans and muslims, eastern euros will be carriers of european civilization but not like socialist in any way.
>>63125>the conscience of man have totally flourished
*has totally flourished
>he wrote these essays when Soviet Union was in his prime
*in its prime>>63126>eastern euros will be carriers of european civilization
Why do you think so?
I was listening to this three part series about The Battle of Midway (attached), and I've been absolutely fascinated with it for the longest time. In particular, the attached kind of blew my mind because for one it makes it seem like the reason the Americans won was because their ships' fire suppression systems were so good that they could just tank hits. Like the Japanese would have a stray cigarette match fall from a plane and the ship would blow up, but the Yorktown:
- Had just been repaired from a previous battle.
- Got bombed once, but they just cleaned off the deck.
- Got bombed AGAIN, but was still going
- Had to be sneakily torpedoed like 3 or 5 more times before it finally sunk.
The attached also blew my mind because one of the reasons I've been fascinated with Midway is because I had the hardest time understanding why it was considered that the Americans won. I get it, they sunk the carriers. But when I watched the movie Midway I was really confused since the entire movie it felt like the Americans were losing. Every single aerial engagement the Americans lost. Then, out of fucking NOWHERE, bam, three carriers down. It just didn't make sense to me.
I think at the end of the 3-part series this guy lays down a timeline of events, and it basically makes it clear that all the aerial engagement kept the Japanese carriers' planes locked up. THAT was when it all clicked for me. It's also why SUDDENLY I realized why VT-8's sacrifice was so crucial: it's the one gap in time that the Japanese would've been able to throw up their airforce.
Everything about the battle is so amazing. There's just so much analysis and ways to think about it. For example, there are so many things you could say "Wow, that was lucky," but then if you think about it, there was a commander who purposefully made that decision expecting that to happen. For example, one of the scout planes went really close to the American task force and could have spotted it, but "just happened not to." But at the same time, Nimitz placed the American task force around thick cloud cover to avoid getting spotted by Japanese recon ships. Or VT-8's sacrifice was crucial to the timing of when the Japanese could release their ships. But at the same time, but the piecemeal launching of aircraft was a calculated move by Spruance.
Just so much amazing stuff.
young eastern euros are leaving their countries in droves*, their birth rates are in free fall, but somehow they are far right westerners' ray of hope for the future. tells you everything you need to know about how deeply unserious these people are. some loud conservative parties' empty posturing about idiotic american cultural war matters is enough to sway them
*this is a positive for these sleazy fucks as it means easier access to succubi and cheap land
Conspiracy Against the Human Race by Thomas Ligotti is a book that destroys the illusions placed by our own consciousness in order to remain ignorant of the fact that we are transient beings trapped in a decaying grotesque hump of fleash we call a body. He builds of the edifices of Zapffe and like Nishitani points out, shows how futile Nietchzes' attempt at transcending nihilism was. He covers specific cases of ego death such as U.G. Krishnamurti. I would not recommend reading this book unless you are already quite miserable, in fact Schopenhauers essays are much better.
The only antidote for this meaninglessness life is the relative painlessness of art.
>>63126>History can't go forward without barbarism and once the conscience of man have totally flourished and realized the pointlessness of all, then exhaustion, stagnation and eventual extinction come.
sounds stolen from eduard von hartmann
>>63141>[in von hartmann's philosophy] The history of the world is that given by natural science, and particular emphasis is laid upon the Darwinian theory of evolution. Humanity developed from the animal, and with the appearance of the first human being the deliverance of the world is in sight, for only in the human being does consciousness reach such height and complexity as to act independently of the Will. As consciousness develops, there is a constantly growing recognition of the fact that deliverance must lie in a return to the original state of non-willing, which means the non-existence of all individuals and the potentiality of the Unconscious. When the greater part of the Will in existence is so far enlightened by reason as to perceive the inevitable misery of existence, a collective effort to will non-existence will be made, and the world will relapse into nothingness, the Unconscious into quiescence.
>The essential feature of the morality built upon the basis of Von Hartmann's philosophy is the realization that all is one and that, while every attempt to gain happiness is illusory, yet before deliverance is possible, all forms of the illusion must appear and be tried to the utmost. Even he who recognizes the vanity of life best serves the highest aims by giving himself up to the illusion, and living as eagerly as if he thought life good. It is only through the constant attempt to gain happiness that people can learn the desirability of nothingness; and when this knowledge has become universal, or at least general, deliverance will come and the world will cease. No better proof of the rational nature of the universe is needed than that afforded by the different ways in which men have hoped to find happiness and so have been led unconsciously to work for the final goal. The first of these is the hope of good in the present, the confidence in the pleasures of this world, such as was felt by the Greeks. This is followed by the Christian transference of happiness to another and better life, to which in turn succeeds the illusion that looks for happiness in progress, and dreams of a future made worth while by the achievements of science. All alike are empty promises, and known as such in the final stage, which sees all human desires as equally vain and the only good in the peace of Nirvana.
I finally got back to "The Old Man and the Sea", and finished it. It was a short read with less than 100 pages, and the text wasn't that small. I liked the prose, and felt comfortable reading it. The details given in the book were never too much, and what was needed to be described, like the boat, was done well. He added some Spanish in there and technical fishing terms, and I think that added to the flavor.
Good book. I'm going to read more from him after I take a small break.
What are some good non fiction books about crab, wizards, NEET, hikikomori and outcast in general.
Why read a book when I can read the walls of text in this thread
I sometimes like to re-read some popular books using a different hermeneutical key. For example, I am re-reading these days The Lord of the Rings from the perspective the "bad guys" are actually right. The Elves, the Men, the Hobbits, the Istari and other "Free people" would be actually brainwashed, fanatical, reactionary and snob villains who want to affirm and protect the old Valar's status quo (Kinda like the Jedi order in Star Wars). In my headcanon Melkor and Sauron want to liberate all people and give all of them eternal life, happiness, material advantages and comfiness. I know a Russian writer already wrote a LOTR fanfiction book based on this view and I will read it in the future.
I can see this working with stories where the villains and events have a little more ambiguity to them, but not with stuff like LoTR and particularly not with Morgoth and Sauron. Those books have a very simplified, Manichaean morality to them. There's a large and clear gap between good and evil. I don't see anywhere in those books you can point and say Sauron is actually good, or neutral, even. The villains there are suppose to represent the dark side of mankind, so of course they'll be as evil as it comes with no redeeming qualities and live in places called mount doom. They don't want to liberate anyone, they would enslave, torture and corrupt all races to become moronic and obedient marauders which is quite well definited and explicit with the Orcs origin story.
The only ambiguity I can see there is through the eyes of Treebeard and the Ents. After the war of the ring, the mythical age of the world ends, humans are the only ones left and regular history begins, and we all know the how forests of this planet got pretty much fucked beyond repair after that happened. Humans ended up rediscovering industry and took it to levels well beyond Saruman's smelting factory in Isengard. So basically the Ents help the fellowship and as a reward got the shaft for it eventually.
Granted, I don't know how much better it would be for them if Sauron had won. He didn't seem to have much of a plan at all after victory. The evil guys in Tolkien act like viruses that just want to consume everything. I'm guessing once the earth was completely conquered and all sentient beings were corrupted to utter stupidity and oblivion, nature would reclaim everything. Probably. That said, this can still happen if humans end up destroying themselves which we have shown to be quite capable of. Maybe there will be an age of the Ent before the end after all.
Notes from the Underground is about a typical outcast who has a vitriol hatred for normalfags.
Solitude - Anthony Storr
Haven't read much of it
Sex and Character - Otto Weininger
Haven't read much of this either, but basically just talks about how succs are soulless and how Geniuses work.
Whatever - Michel Houellebecq
Typical crab book, it was a decent read.
I want a non fiction book that tell a overview of outcast people, but still, thanks for the recommendation
I really like that fellow. >In bourgeois society, the more considerable the mass of social wealth becomes, the smaller and smaller is the number of individuals by whom it is appropriated. The same takes place with politicalauthority. As the mass of citizens possessing political rights grows,and the number of elected rulers increases, real authority is con-centrated in, and becomes the monopoly of, an ever-smaller andsmaller group of individuals.