I’ve always thought reading Brautigan was like eating mashed potatoes, there’s something untranslatable and comforting buried within his off-kilter stories. On the surface they amount to, as my father would say, a hill of beans. But there’s a message within the nonsense. What that message could be is beyond me, but I’m sure it’s there. And it’s written In Watermelon Sugar. If I could only remember how to see it again.
The eerie and slightly sadistic writings of John Fahey reveal the most basic of human desires. They reconstruct realms you at some point caught a glimpse of but convince yourself, for the sake of pushing back the worry, that they weren’t really there.
Magic for Beginners has produced upon reading the stories within, the feeling of everyday mystical, with tinges of nightmares that reverberate, months and even years, after they occur. You wonder if the vision is yours or the author’s. You wake up and you’re not quite sure if the bed in which you lay, is really yours. If you are reading just a story, or if that feeling just under your skin has somehow slipped onto the page.
Thanks 20 million to Will for recommending this to me!