Thursday, December 7, 2017

WILLIAM H. GASS ~




WILLIAM H. GASS, 1986

Dominique Nabokov


1924 ~ 2017

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William Howard Gass was born in Fargo, N.D., on July 30, 1924, the son of William Gass and the former Claire Sorenson. When he was six weeks old his father moved the family to Warren, Ohio. William grew up during the Depression, spending summers in North Dakota. “These were the dust bowl years, too; grasshoppers ate even the daylight,” he wrote.

The New York Times
7 December 2017



    Fiction[edit]

    • Omensetter's Luck (1966)
    • In the Heart of the Heart of the Country (five stories) (1968)
    • Willie Masters' Lonesome Wife (illustrated novella) (1968)
    • The Tunnel (1995)
    • Cartesian Sonata and Other Novellas (four novellas) (1998)
    • Middle C (2013)
    • Eyes (two novellas, four short stories) (2015)

      Non-fiction[edit]

      • Fiction and the Figures of Life (1970)
      • On Being Blue: A Philosophical Inquiry (1976)
      • The World within the Word (1978)
      • Habitations of the Word (1984)
      • Finding a Form: Essays (1997)
      • Reading Rilke: Reflections on the Problems of Translation (1999)
      • Tests of Time (2002)
      • Conversations with William H. Gass (2003)
      • A Temple of Texts (2006)
      • Life Sentences (2012)





      BUKKA WHITE ~










      UNPUBLISHED CHARLES BUKOWSKI ~







      Ecco Press
      2017


      #1



      Oh, forgive me For Whom the Bells Tolls,

      oh, forgive me Man who walked on water,

      oh, forgive me little old woman who lived in a show,

      oh, forgive me the mountain that roared at midnight,

      oh, forgive me the dumb sounds of night and day and death,

      oh, forgive me all the sunken ships and defeated armies,

      this is my first FAX POEM.

      It's too late:

      I have been

      smitten.



      ——————————

      CHARLES BUKOWSKI
      Storm for the Living and the Dead
      edited by Abel Debritoo


      Debritoo claims, "February 18, 1994 manuscript; previously uncollected. In all likelihood,
      this is the last poem Bukowski ever wrote."