I'm looking for novels with "hallucinatory prose". Joycean 3rd person. Stream-of-consciousness without the consciousness. Joyce himself does it occasionally in Ulysses, Cormac sometimes but I'm hard pressed finding somebody who writes this style over several pages.
>>25426625>proseno thanks, i only read verse
>>25426642Roussel, La Doublure
>>25426625de Chirico (yeah, the artist,) HebdomerosIt also happens to be better, if more Mediterranean in sensibility, than Joyce and McCarthy. It was written in French and translations were not well-promoted, and the artist became unfashionable after he went trad and rejected modernity, so it's quite obscure in the English speaking world.
>>25426625Alone, kneeling on the painted steel, like her mother she knows how horror will come when the afternoon is brightest. And like Margherita, she has her worst visions in black and white. Each day she feels closer to the edge of something. She dreams often of the same journey: a passage by train, between two well-known cities, lit by that same nacreous wrinkling the films use to suggest rain out a window. In a Pullman, dictating her story. She feels able at last to tell of a personal horror, tell it clearly in a way others can share. That may keep it from taking her past the edge, into the silver-salt dark closing ponderably slow at her mind’s flank . . . when she was growing out her fringes, in dark rooms her own unaccustomed hair, beside her eyes, would loom like a presence. . . . In her ruined towers now the bells gong back and forth in the wind. Frayed ropes dangle or slap where her brown hoods no longer glide above the stone. Her wind keeps even dust away. It is old daylight: late, and cold. Horror in the brightest hour of afternoon . . . sails on the sea too small and distant to matter . . . water too steel and cold. . . . Her look now—this deepening arrest—has already broken Slothrop’s seeing heart: has broken and broken, that same look swung as he drove by, thrust away into twilights of moss and crumbling colony, of skinny clouded-cylinder gas pumps, of tin Moxie signs gentian and bittersweet as the taste they were there to hustle on the weathered sides of barns, looked for how many Last Times up in the rearview mirror, all of them too far inside metal and combustion, allowing the days’ targets more reality than anything that might come up by surprise, by Murphy’s Law, where the salvation could be. . . . Lost, again and again, past poor dambusted and drowned Becket, up and down the rut-brown slopes, the hayrakes rusting in the afternoon, the sky purple-gray, dark as chewed gum, the mist starting to make white dashes in the air, aimed earthward a quarter, a half inch . . . she looked at him once, of course he still remembers, from down at the end of a lunchwagon counter, grill smoke working onto the windows patient as shoe grease against the rain for the plaid, hunched-up leaky handful inside, off the jukebox a quick twinkle in the bleat of a trombone, a reed section, planting swing notes precisely into the groove between silent midpoint and next beat, jumping it pah (hm) pah (hm) pah so exactly in the groove that you knew it was ahead but felt it was behind, both of you, at both ends of the counter, could feel it, feel your age delivered into a new kind of time that may have allowed you to miss the rest, the graceless expectations of old men who watched, in bifocal and mucus indifference, watched you lindy-hop into the pit by millions, as many millions as necessary. . . .
"Voyage To Arcturus" by David Lindsay was pretty psychotronic. So is pretty much everything by Philip K. Dick.
>>25426625I assume you're talking more so the Circe chapter and not the Penelope one?
>>25426625Check out Alberto Laiseca, maybe Pynchon's GR, absolutely Julián Ríos
>>25426625Learn a new language by bulking up on vocab, for a good while everything you read will sound like that
>>25426625>Agua Viva>The Passion According to GH>Family TiesLispector is who you want, those are in order of most like what you're asking for to least like but still recognizably the thing you're asking for
>>25428370Fuck I forgot to put in Hour of the Star. Put that under Agua Viva and before GH
>>25426637>shortlistedLoseeeer.
>>25426625Saint Camilus, 1936
>>25426625Hmm so you want extended free indirect discourse right? But can it be normal or does it have to be highly-wrought & expressionist?Mad women are always a good source of material for extreme subjectivity:— Janet Frame, ‘Owls Do Cry’— Emily Holmes Coleman, ‘Shutters Of Snow’— Virginia Woolf, ‘Mrs Dalloway’If you can't be mad, at least be an alcoholic:— Malcolm Lowry, ‘Under The Volcano’Or locked up:— Hubert Selby Jr, ‘The Room’Plenty of works have long passages of this, interspersed with some fresh air:— Thomas Wolfe, ‘Look Homeward, Angel’— Cormac McCarthy, ‘Suttree’ (as you mentioned)— Dylan Thomas, ‘Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Dog’ (some chapters are first-person, some are third-person)>>25428370Yeah Lispector is a good call. She would count as a mad woman of course.
The lead singer of primal scream described Jean Genet prose as hallucinatory. So read him if you like hallucinating homoerotic' penises.
>>25428370I have The Hour of the Star. Do you think that's a good place to begin with with Lispector. As in if I read it and don't like it she won't be an author I enjoy, so to say?
Nothing like the sun by Burgess
>>25426625Roger Zelazny's Eye of Cat has a lot of this. There's a particular favorite moment where the main character gets a minor concussion from a grenade going off nearby and you get to recover over a paragraph of internal monologue. Highly recommend that book for what you're looking for. Main character is a Navajo tracker and he becomes the hunted by a psychic panther. He has to disguise his thoughts in more natural (not common, like nature natural) thought patterns to escape the mind reading. Oh yeah, and he's in a future setting thought out in the 70s.
