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 No.60032[View All]

Book discussion.
Previous thread: >>54504

So it's been about a year since I read Arabian Nights (>>54901, >>54902) 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.
75 posts and 24 image replies omitted. Click reply to view.


What are your thoughts on the way the publishing industry is going?

Do you guys even read newer and just released books?


I thought Al-Ma'arri was the OG Arabian wizard. I can't read Arabic though, wish I could jahili/pre-Islamic poetry in translation is still beautiful.


I am currently reading The Constitution of Liberty by the economist Friedrich Hayek.

This book discusses the ideals of freedom and liberty that have shaped the Western civilization and the dangers of an expanding government that may halten the West growth and lead to its decline.

I guess you would consider it anti-NEET as it leans more towards libertarian ideology.
However, it's a very good read. I was oblivious to the dynamics that freedom creates in a society.


>expanding government

Careful with those ideas. Just stop an think for a second: were do you have more freedom and liberty? in the private sector? are corporations and workplaces "democratic"? No, they are authoritarian and completely vertical. You do what your boss tells you or you get fired, and even if you do what your boss tells you, you still can get fire anyway because of cost reduction or because he just doesn't like you.

Once you realize that, it's follows automatically that if you have more of that and less of the state that is the only true "free and democratic" institution that you have in society were you have any say at all (beyond a few minor exceptions) you are not going to have more freedom at all but completely the opposite. Once the state is lessen or out of the picture, you know what the corpos in the private sector are going to do, because they are already doing it, they are going to enslave you even worst and you are going to have to work 12-16hs a day 6-7 days a week like it was 100 years ago.

The problem is not a "big government" the problem is an "efficient government" that works for you instead of the bureaucrats and the corpos.

Or that libertarian shit only works if you already have money and power. If you are a broke peasant you are going to eat shit even worst in a libertarian society.


Democracy is not a synonym for freedom.
Voluntary hierarchy isn't inherently anti-freedom.

Arguments aside the book sounds interesting and I think I will at least check to see if there is a easy to find audio book version of it so I can listen to it while at work.


>Once the state is lessen or out of the picture, you know what the corpos in the private sector are going to do
You can even think about it backward.
If the corpos are removed from the picture, the state would oppress its people like what happened in the communist era.

I think we need a fine balance between state interventionism and laissez-faire. The issue is that such balance is extremely difficult to preserve and to define because :
-First, this balance is not set in stones. Different times, different needs.
-Secondly, the leaders are biased by the community they're trying to appease or their own interest.

So, maybe it's a process of experimentation. We throw laws around, see their effect and judge if they should continue to be applied or abolished.

The issue with the experimentation process is that you are toying with people's life (this isn't like a science lab where you play with chemicals) and quite possibly hurting the social tissue. It will take a long time for the wound to heal, granted you are not experimenting with other laws that can mess this situation even more.

Plus, when your book of law contains thousand laws, how is it possible to differentiate the defective harmful ones from the neutral or good ones. Frankly it's no easy task and it's probably why governments quickly abandon the idea of reforming and just adds in new laws to the ever expanding set.

In this context, I can see the appeal of laissez-faire. Get rid of this pile nobody can make sense of anymore, implement few basic laws and let the market do its thing.
At the same time, it could be scary if it leads to the elites sucking us dry. Although you can argue it's kinda already the case since 1% people owns 90% wealth, this mostly due to the usury that our financial system is based on.


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>Les Chants de Maldoror, Lautréamont

In this collection of prose poems, Lautréamont takes the reader through the "adventures" and musings of Maldoror, the incarnation he uses to represent pure evil. Lautréamont is almost a natural heir of Baudelaire, Rimbaud, etc. Following that style, Lautréamont poems are like an invitation to "explode", to transcend the Baudelaire's spleen by letting all of our inner desires to take free expression in this world. Doing that implies inflicting suffering and pain unto others, basically being evil, but to Lautréamont that also is like a form of merging with the universe, connecting with God, experiencing "total reality". Both Baudelaire and Rimbaud share this need of expanding outwards, of letting everything inside you to takes free way and of experiencing sensations to its fullest but Lautréamont is another level of brutality and violence. This was a very fierce and intriguing book.


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>We must let our nails grow for a fortnight. Oh! how sweet it is to snatch a child from his bed, who has nothing on his upper lip, and, with his eyes open, pretend to pass his hand sweetly on his forehead, tilting his hands hair! Then, suddenly, at the moment when he least expected it, to push the long nails into his soft breast, so that he did not die; for if he died, one would not later have the appearance of his miseries. Then the blood is drunk by licking the wounds; and during this time, which should last as long as eternity lasts, the child weeps. Nothing is so good as his blood, extracted as I have just said, and still warm, if not his tears, bitter as salt. Male, Have you ever tasted your blood, when by chance you cut your finger? How good it is, is not it; for he has no taste. Besides, do not you remember one day, in your gloomy reflections, carried your hand, hollowed in the depths, on your diseased ligure wet by what was falling from your eyes; which then went fatally towards the mouth, which drew long lines in this cup, trembling like the teeth of the pupil who looks obliquely at the one who was born to oppress him, tears? How good they are, are they not? for they have the taste of vinegar. One would say the tears of the one who loves most; but the tears of the child are better on the palate. He does not betray, not yet knowing the evil: the one who loves most betrays sooner or later … I guess by analogy, though I do not know what friendship is, or love (it is probable that I will never accept them, at least on the part of the human race). So, since your blood and tears do not disgust you, feed, feed with confidence the tears and blood of the adolescent. Bend his eyes, while you tear his palpitating flesh; and after hearing long hours his sublime cries, like the piercing groaning in a battle the throats of the dying wounded, then, having thrown you as an avalanche, throw yourself into the next room, and you will pretend to to come to his rescue. You will untie his hands, with the nerves and the swollen veins, you will render the sight to his eyes lost, restoring you to lick his tears and his blood. As then repentance is true! The the divine spark which is in us, and appears so rarely, shows itself; too late! As the heart overflows with being able to console the innocent one who has been harmed: "Adolescent, who has just suffered cruel pains, who has been able to commit a crime on you which I know not what name to call! Unhappy that you are! How you must suffer! And if your mother knew this, she would not be nearer to death, so abhorred by the guilty than I am now. Alas! what is good and evil? Is it the same thing by which we rage our impotence, and the passion of reaching to infinity by even the most insane means? Or are they two different things? Yes … that it is rather the same thing … for, if not, what will become of me on the day of judgment? Teenager, forgive me; it is he who is before your noble and sacred face, who has broken your bones and torn the flesh that hangs in different parts of your body. Is it a delirium of my sick reason, is it a secret instinct that does not depend on my reasoning, like that of the eagle rending its prey, which prompted me to commit this crime; and yet, as much as my victim, I was suffering! Adolescent, forgive me. Once I have emerged from this passing life, I want to be interwoven for eternity; to form but one being, my mouth stuck to your mouth. Even so, my punishment will not be complete. Then you will tear me, without ever stopping, with teeth and nails at the same time. I shall wrap my body with balmy garlands for this atoning sacrifice; and we shall both suffer, to be torn, you, to tear me … my mouth glued to your mouth. O teenager, with fair hair and so sweet eyes, will you do what I advise you? In spite of you, I want you to do it, and you will make my conscience happy. "After speaking thus, at the same time you will have harmed a human being, and you will be loved by the same being: it is happiness greater than can be conceived. Later, you can put him in the hospital; for the perclus will not be able to make a living. You will be called good, and laurel wreaths and gold medals will hide your bare feet, scattered over the great tomb, with the old face, O you, whose name I do not want to write on this page which consecrates the sanctity of crime, I know that your forgiveness was immense as the universe. But I still exist! be torn, you, tear me … my mouth stuck to your mouth. O teenager, with fair hair and so sweet eyes, will you do what I advise you? In spite of you, I want you to do it, and you will make my conscience happy.


I am reading the "Love letter to America", written by a KGB defector Yuri Bezmenov, in which he details the communists (thus the KGB) tactics to culturally destroy then physically conquer a nation that cannot be taken out frontally.

It's at the same time eye-opening but also quite frankly frightening, specially when you notice that these tactics are still being used (not by USSR since it's long gone) but by the elites who own mass media, hollywood, governments etc.

Here is the pdf link : https://ia802308.us.archive.org/34/items/1984-yb-love-letter-to-america/1984%20YB%20Love%20Letter%20To%20America.pdf

He quoted a writer named Gregory Clark, and it's quite accurate to our current time :
"If I were a communist agent in America with millions of dollars to spend annually I would not waste it in bribing public servants to give away states secrets. But I would lavish and encourage the sleazy tune-smiths of that region to turn out more and more of garbage culture"



gonna read a world history textbook from cover to cover


Wizards know deep Arab lore remains an underrated catalogue of books. Lovecraft based his Necronomicon on Arab esoterica for good reason.


Do you think his solution of backing up religious institutions is really the only way to counter the Communists after our precious bodily fluids?



capitalists are more neet friendly than commies



Well that book is more about minarchism vs the welfare state than communism vs capitalism, there are different points along the economic spectrum not just 2 binary extremes


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>Sodom and Gomorrah, Marcel Proust

This volume of In the Search of the Lost time puts great emphasis on homosexuality. As through the whole series, we perceive in a very intimate way how the world changes for the narrator when he discovers new facets of the persons he frequents. This time, homosexuality is a hidden force, a secret society beneath the general public and the formal relations. To fully satisfy their desires without bluntly disrupting the normal order, the homosexuals, the members of this secret club, have to resort to tricks, gestures and keywords only known by the members of the club. The application of these tactics is the perfect ferment to someone like Marcel, our narrator, to discover new sides of the characters. The Baron de Charlus is basically the main character in this novel used to represent the secret fraternity of homosexuals. He's all uppity, aristocratic, disparaging and fondly proud of his bloodline but when his desires takes the ride, he begins to act cowardly, timid, incoherent or even he's more conceited and disrespectful.

Another aspect I enjoyed in this volume was the mourning of Marcel due to the death of his grandmother. She died in the previous volume, probably several months/years have passed since then but he didn't totally realized that she was absent for ever until he returned to Balbec and everything there was reminding him of her. A classical Proustian moment when the things, the spaces, the weather take us to the past but also a cruel reminder that all these things we love in life are permeated by death and we will depart from this spectacle someday.

Sadly for Marcel, his beloved Albertine also takes part in the fraternity of homosexuals. Marcel suspects it and we are witnesses of his pains and sufferings while he tries to divert Albertine from that path.

The volume ends with an "in crescendo" where Marcel realizes that all his efforts where futile since the beginning, Albertine has been homosexual for several years already, she's an integral member of the secret club. This realization breaks the hearth of Marcel and life now looks depleted and painful to him. The sunshine at the shore of Balbec is not an invitation to life like it usually looked to him but a heavy and melancholic painting.



You do realize that was his shitty communists country the one that collapsed and they had complete control over the culture?

In other words, he doesn't know what he is talking about. The Communist leaders ideas - and by extension the KGB - on the matter were proven to be garbage when they failed to prevent their own culture collapse.

In practice it works the other way around, if you try to control the culture so it's "good" like they did, you infantilize it killing creativity and making it less resilient. If you expose it to "garbage" it develops anti-bodies for it and it grows stronger. That is why shitty countries that control their culture like China have to steal all their technology from the West and live like lowly dogs and not the other way around.


What translation are you reading? Would you say Proust is overrated


I wouldn’t say overrated since most people don’t read beyond the first two, or maybe even three books. It gets dull in some parts, but overall it’s a good book. Not War and Peace good, but still good. A lot of people like to name-drop Proust as a way of social posturing, mentioning the Madeline cake, the theme of involuntary memory and all that. But really deep down it’s very disquieting and pessimistic once you get to the later parts.
I’d recommend Samuel Beckett’s essay on him if you’re interested in a different perspective.


>Habit is a compromise effected between the individual and his environment, or between the individual and his own organic eccentricities, the guarantee of a dull inviolability, the lightning-conductor of his existence. Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit. The periods of transition that separate consecutive adaptations represent the perilous zones in the life of the individual, dangerous, precarious, painful, mysterious and fertile, when for the moment the boredom of living is replaced by the suffering of being.

You seem to read a lot. Do you have reading tips or advice? And may I ask what you do for living or how you make time for reading? Just curious about jobs that would enable one to read so much. Also, did you ever feel compelled to go to college to study any of this?


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"The ancients, to awake from life, turned to death. The moderns flee from death in order not to awake, and take pains not even to think of it. Which are the more ‘practical’? Those who compare earthly life to sleep and wait for the miracle of the awakening, or those who see in death a sleep without dream-faces, the perfect sleep, and while away their time with ‘reasonable’ and ‘natural’ explanations? That is the basic question of philosophy, and he who evades it evades philosophy itself."

Lev Shestov. It's a very interesting philosopher who was pretty much a sort of irl Dostoevsky's Underground Man. He was both the Anti-Spinoza and the Anti-Aquinas as he thought God is beyond all reason and logic, the realm of absolute freedom against the Necessity and the laws. For him death was one of the most important philosophical topics, death is the tragic and pure reality and everyone is asleep until they confront Her face to face, like Dostoevsky himself.


It's funny how every philosopher has to believe to have found the basic question of philosophy in order to philosophise.


I find useful to think about modern philosophy as a branch of literature. NEETzsche said philosophy is mostly biographical and I agree, so it's common that we see so many different philosophies and systems from different "axioms" or premises. The philosopher is a man of flesh and bone like Miguel de Unamuno said, the philosopher is after all only a man who is gonna die and suffer, not an AI or a robot so of course a big part of philosophy is subjective and more similar to literature than to science. But it's enjoyable and stuff imo. It's a big part of the soul and charming of philosophy itself.


Heraclitus Fragments, One Robe, One Bowl: The Zen Poetry of Ryokan, Enchiridion

Yep, I felt the exact same way when I first read it. Some authors you can just tell were spiritual (or actual) wizards. If you want something lighter read Welcome to the N.H.K., the novel the anime was based on. The author was an actual hiki when he wrote it and I won't spoil anything but the epilogue he writes a few years after the book's original publication is a sobering lesson for us all.


I'm reading Pedro Salinas spanish translation


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>On the Heights of Despair, Emil Cioran

As I have already stated, Cioran wrote the same book several times. He always touches the topic of the sense of amazement, anguish and despair towards the condition of existing and the mystery of being. Rather than trying to be a philosopher and starting lines of reasoning, Cioran dwells in the sensations and organic reaction produced in ourselves when confronted with this vast unknown condition of being. We are hopelessly unarmed and unable to comprehend or establish a complete theory of metaphysics. Cioran just explores painstakingly the reaction and the compartments in our souls. In this book, Cioran is particularly good at that. He writes little essays that are meticulous descriptions about his probably own inner experience. The despair produced by this cosmic bewilderment and solitude is traduced in pulsations in the nerves, muscles and hearth. He's loyal to the title, this book is a study about despair.

>There are no arguments. Can anyone who has reached the limit bother with arguments, causes, effects, moral considerations, and so forth? Of course not. For such a person there are only unmotivated motives for living. On the heights of despair, the passion for the absurd is the only thing that can still throw a demonic light on chaos. When all the current reasons—moral, esthetic, religious, social, and so on—no longer guide one's life, how can one sustain life without succumbing to nothingness? Only by a connection with the absurd, by love of absolute uselessness, loving something which does not have substance but which simulates an illusion of life. I live because the mountains do not laugh and the worms do not sing.

>The deepest and most organic death is death in solitude, when even light becomes a principle of death. In such moments you will be severed from life, from love, smiles, friends and even from death. And you will ask yourself if there is anything besides the nothingness of the world and your own nothingness.

>I would like to explode, flow, crumble into dust, and my disintegration would be my masterpiece. I would like to melt in the world and for the world to melt orgasmically in me and thus in our delirium to engender an apocalyptic dream, strange and grandiose like all crepuscular visions. Let our dream bring forth mysterious splendors and triumphant shadows, let a general conflagration swallow the world, and let its flames generate crepuscular pleasures as intricate as death and as fascinating as nothingness.

> seriously ask myself, What is the meaning of all this? Why raise questions, throw lights, or see shadows? Wouldn't it be better if I buried my tears in the sand on a seashore in utter solitude? But I never cried, because my tears have always turned into thoughts. And my thoughts are as bitter as tears.

>Despair is the state in which anxiety and restlessness are immanent to existence. Nobody in despair suffers from “problems”, but from his own inner torment and fire. It’s a pity that nothing can be solved in this world. Yet there never was and there never will be anyone who would commit suicide for this reason. So much for the power that intellectual anxiety has over the total anxiety of our being! That is why I prefer the dramatic life, consumed by inner fires and tortured by destiny, to the intellectual, caught up in abstractions which do not engage the essence of our subjectivity. I despise the absence of risks, madness and passion in abstract thinking. How fertile live, passionate thinking is! Lyricism feeds it like blood pumped into the heart!


Longerich doesn't explain enough (or maybe G. didn't elaborate in his diaries) why Dostojevski made such a strong impression on Goebbels. I'd really like to read his diaries, but I don't know Germany well enough.

I can see why he would liked Crime and Punishment, but why Idiot (this is also especially mentioned)? Because the prince is purest and most honest slavophile (which was and is pretty different from European nationalism) and thru this the ideal man of vision?

From Longerich biography of G. it becomes very clear that even aside from Dostojevski and other Russian writers, he was a russophile. But not enough I quess to steer away from Hitler once he became The Man of Destiny for him.

Rosenberg as a Baltic German was on many occassion also disgusted by Goebbels positive views of Muscovism and Russians and even the Bolshevik takeover of the country.


I started reading a lot of classical literature and I think this is the ultimate NEET hobby in many ways. I know everyone relates NEET hobbies to mostly watching anime and vidya but think about it. You need tons of free time to read and properly enjoy classic literature books, especially big fat books from the 1800s. Plus you can have additional fun reading about the lore and there are usually millions of pages written about every single detail of the characters / the plot / the book / the context. Reading War & Peace by Tolstoi as a NEET with no worries is a really comfy experience.


I agree with you that reading old books is really comfy there is something magical about them.When you read them you feel like ,time traveling to books era


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If you fellas want an ultra comfy book from around that era check out Xavier de Maistre's "A Journey Around My Room" which he wrote while he was in house arrest for 42 days for fighting a duel (possibly over a succubus). It's just him "exploring" his room out of boredom and it's got some beautiful passages that reveal parts of his life story and his surprisingly gentle character


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> The Decay of the Angel, Yukio Mishima

This is the final volume of the Sea of Fertility tetralogy. Honda is now a retired old judge. He finds a boy named Toru that works in a port watching and taking notice of the ships arriving. Upon watching on him the same moles that Kiyoaki, Isao and Ying Chan had, he decides to adopt this boy thinking he is another reincarnation of them.
But Toru doesn't share the same romantic and passionate nature of the previous reincarnations, he's rather sadistic, manipulative and selfish. Toru isn't guided by any noble ideal, he's framing how to get rid of Honda to inherit all his wealth.

Keiko, that was previously informed by Honda about the line of reincarnation he witnessed, tells Toru that Honda believes he's a reincarnation of the aforementioned persons and if he doesn't die before he turns 20 years old he will prove himself to be a fake. This deeply hurts the pride of Toru and subsequently he tries to commit suicide but he fails, proving then that he's not part of that line.

Honda also falls in disgrace when his voyeurism is made public. When he presages that death is near, he visits the temple where Satoko retired many years ago after the incident with Kiyoaki, and then the conclusion of this journey is dismal: nothing happened at all, universe remains the same, unity is unchanged.

Through the course of the tetralogy we saw romantic portraits of passion, heroism, immolation but after that we also saw ugliness, pettiness,ageing and a feeling of uselessness that permeates all. Mishima was a very interesting and troubled man and one wonders if his death was an act of romanticism, passion, despair, nihilism or all this combined.


That sounds a bit similar to Against Nature by Huysmans. The main character is a rich NEET who spends the entirety of the story (save for one chapter) at home. Every chapter is either about him gushing over some sort of hobby of his or reminiscing about a past experience.


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Hey wiz, it's been about 20 days since you made that post. I'm sorry I just saw you replied to me. How's your reading going? Still enjoying it? Did you drop it?

It's a ridiculously long book, quite a challenge even though the stories are very easy to follow. I can honestly say it's still my favorite literary book of all times.


I've been meaning to read that for a couple years, but like everything else I keep procrastinating. Thematically it might be a bit similar but from what I know Huysmans was more cynical while Xavier was somewhat of a romantic, also Against Nature is presumably way better in a literary sense since Xavier wasn't a novelist but a military man


A biography of Pessoa has just been published this year by his translator Richard Zenith. It's pretty good from what I've read, and very detailed.


Thanks I'll check that out, although I'm always scared to learn about my favorite authors' lives in case they turn out to be lame.


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The End Of All Evil by Jeremy Locke

>Evil enslaves. Evil is found in words such as force, compulsion, tax, violence, theft, censure, and politics. Notice that in such things, there is no joy. None have any value to humanity.

This book defines the doctrine of liberty, and teaches you why choices that affect your life can only rightfully be made by you.


You sound like some libright from r/politicalcompass

Quite funny place for a whale.


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>Notes from Underground, Fyodor Dostoevsky

This is one of the most powerful things I've ever read. A middle age man living alone in the city, working as civil servant. This is ferocious, this is a scream from the deeps of a human soul .I don't know what the central message of the book is but these are the principal points I guess:

- The first part of the book is a monologue of the anonymous narrator/protagonist. Science and technological development appear to be headed towards a complete explanation of human motives in a way that every act could be predicted and thoroughly explained. This implies that the social order of the future would be perfect and humans would have to merely follow a set of instructions to achieve happiness and the whole well being of society. However our narrator refuses to accept this and despises such destiny. Humans aren't machines and even if we manage to study the impulses and motives of human acts completely, somebody would still be able to say "fuck you" , go against the tide, destroy everything just for the pleasure of not following orders, the pleasure of being himself. To me, this a majestic representation of human condition and the problem it represents. Self awareness is very painful yet it gives us immense freedom to do anything (jerking off in the street, killing your neighbor and steal his money, etc). Dostoevsky doesn't give an answer but as a great artist he can perfectly describe the problem. What are we in the end and what should we do? For the time being human condition when thoroughly examined is overwhelming and frightening. Human soul is a black well.

- The narrator is of course alienated. This is not clearly shown in the book but there are hints that explain the narrator resentment and attitude towards life. Apparently his problems can be traced back to childhood. How was he raised? How was his family? We don't know but certainly he's a new kind of man that the modern world and its conditions has produced. Let's remember the epoch of the novel: new forms of social order, new forms of family, the birth of industrial cities, etc. In the ancient social order, the place of a human in the social hierachy was established from birth, the new social order gave humans freedom without precedents.

- The second part of the book can be categorized as pathetic, dark and funny at the same time. Our narrator goes to a little party with some old "friends" from school that he despised. The narrator has a very big opinion of himself, he considers himself smarter than everybody, a great thinker but when he realizes that his friends are in better material position than him he can't hide his resentment and things go awkward. After that he meets a prostitute and he discharges his accumulated anger towards her. He decides to morally destroy and break her. He shows her that she is just a pathetic whore and future for her is dismal. The prostitute develops some feelings for the narrator but he just laugh at her face and show his true condition, he is the underground man, he is just pathetic. He could have built something with that succubi but out of self hate he sabotage himself. There's not redemption left for him

As I said, I can't describe the message of the book in one sentence. It is a majestic portrait of human condition. A scream of somebody trapped.


>a majestic portait of human condition

I'm starting to doubt how much healthy the praise of our own misery is…

>picking on hoe bcos being pathetic compared to normies

Don't expect me to celebrate this misery. I do know lots of normos with better economy than me yet I still have a big opinion of meself… obviously not related to whatever comparison between us could be done in monetary sense.


I have read almost all his novels when I was 18-20 and remember almost nothing. The only one I can say I truly enjoyed was the autobiographical one about his days in the siberian prison camp.


Was it The Idiot?


Not him but he's obviously talking about The House of the Dead.


Thank you, wiz. Have you read it?


>I'm starting to doubt how much healthy the praise of our own misery is…

Probably not much but don't forget that Notes from Underground starts with these lines:

>The author of the diary and the diary itself are, of course, imaginary. Nevertheless it is clear that such persons as the writer of these notes not only may, but positively must, exist in our society, when we consider the circumstances in the midst of which our society is formed. I have tried to expose to the view of the public more distinctly than is commonly done, one of the characters of the recent past. He is one of the representatives of a generation still living. In this fragment, entitled “Underground,” this person introduces himself and his views, and, as it were, tries to explain the causes owing to which he has made his appearance and was bound to make his appearance in our midst. In the second fragment there are added the actual notes of this person concerning certain events in his life.

Dosto is not praising the underground man. He's showing a dark side of the human condition and that representation is what is majestic not the condition itself. The power to self sabotage, self destruct and say "fuck it all" at any moment is very intriguing even if this time if comes from somebody so resented like this man. Why does his alienation and resentment led him to write such manifest? I don't know but Dosto made something sharp here

>Don't expect me to celebrate this misery

Well,you don't have to compare yourself with that guy, that's not the point. His pathetic attempts to rebel and the anger he feels towards his companions in better material condition can be funny yet illuminating about his mindset. But again, it is nothing to celebrate, follow or measure yourself against.


I did. It's good but not his best imo, of course each person will have his own favorite. Mine would be Brothers Karamazov, Dream of a Ridiculous Man and Notes from Underground. I never read The Idiot or Crime and Punishment, people say those are pretty good too.


I found an old poetry book in my library by an Arabic poet named Amal Donqol which I can’t remember buying. I’m not really that much into poetry, nor do I enjoy reading in my native language, but some of his poems are really good, and had he written them in French or Italian I’m guessing they would’ve been more popular. He’s a bit too revolutionary, but not to the point of being political.

Here’s a translation that doesn’t do justice to one of his poems about the death of Spartacus: https://www.jadaliyya.com/Details/26934


Yeah I liked it because it was more… entertaining? and down to earth. I could no longer stomach the philosophical and moral musings that are so common in the russian literature of that period, with copious amount of miserabilism to boot.


i need more unga bunga john carter/conan space warrior and bikini amazon princess reading material


I've been reading the Knickerbocker Classics' Lovecraft book on and off for a while, just a story or 2 every now and then. I really like it so far. "The Doom That Came to Sarnath" and "The Statement of Randolph Carter" were the last 2 I read, they weren't that good.
I used to read quite a bit as a kid, but stopped for some reason. Last year I picked up House of Leaves and it was great, it made me start reading again.


Probably haram around here but I read normie memoirs. They all suffer the human condition however their lens through the experience is different.

One thing that upsets me is how they live life on a different time scale. I mean a whole bunch of things will happen and they come out of an experience with a shit ton of new experience and perspective. Then it turns out the whole saga happened over a span of a few months.

My life is so much slower than that. A few months equates to a nap on my watch. I can't comprehend how people experience life through such an accelerated pace.

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