85 new of 195 responses total.
(unlikely, but..) Richard Brautigan?
Not Brautigan.
Wild guess: John Berryman?
william carlos williams?
Neither Berryman nor Williams. The author is a deceased American male. I plan on posting another quote sometime today or tomorrow if nobody has guessed it by then.
Here's another quote. As with the first one, I've reproduced the
formatting exactly.
*nothing* is easier than
writing
it becomes ridiculously
easy
and
as you continue to do
it
critical articles will be
written
on how you do it
why you do
it
and
what it
means.
and,
of course, you
won't know
what the hell
they are talking
about.
because
the typewriter
does it
all you
do
is sit down
in front of it.
it will take care
of
damn near
everything
except
death and
bad
women.
Carl Sandburg?
Not Sandburg. But like Sandburg, this author wrote both prose and poetry.
No guesses in a few days. Time for another quote:
my father
was a truly amazing man.
he pretended to be
rich
even though we lived on beans and mush and weenies
when we sat down to eat, he said,
"not everybody can eat like this."
and because he wanted to be rich or because he actually
thought he *was* rich
he always voted Republican
and he voted for Hoover against Roosevelt
and he lost
and then he voted for Alf Landon against Roosevelt
and he lost again
saying, "I don't know what this world is coming to,
now we've got that god damned Red in there again
and the Russians will be in our backyard next!"
I think it was my father who made me decide to
become a bum.
I decided that if a man like that wants to be rich
then I want to be poor.
Hm, this item it without recent guesses. I assume this means that readers are without a clue. :) Hint: A movie written by this author was made a few years ago. The protagonist was the same fictional character who appears in a number of the author's short stories.
I know nothing of peotry but everytime I read your quotes, the name "James Thurber" pops into mind.
Not Thurber.
random shot in the dark: Douglass Copeland
Not Douglass Copeland (whom I know nothing about). I'll try to post another quote soon.
It looks like Koch or Creely on the page, but I'm not familiar enough with either of them to hazard a guess. It also sounds a bit like Erica Jong, and the description fits except for the dead white male part.
Not any of those.
e e cummings?
Not e e cummings.
Here's something from one of the author's short stories. The milieu is
typical.
Tom and Max walked in front of the gang of them. They
were walking down Broadway in Los Angeles. There were more
than 50 bums walking along behind Tom and Max. 50 or more
bums--blinking, staggering, not exactly sure of what was
happening. The ordinary citizens on the street were aston-
ished. They stopped, they stepped aside and watched. Some
were frightened, some laughed. To others it appeard to be
a joke, or some movie in the making. The makeup was perfect:
the actors looked like bums. But where were the cameras.
Tom and Max led the march.
"Listen, Max, I only told 8. How many did you tell?"
"Maybe 9."
"I wonder what the hell happened?"
"They must have told each other . . ."
They walked along. It was like a mad dream that couldn't be
stopped. At the corner of 7th, the light changed to red. Tom
and Max stopped and the bums bunched up behind them waiting.
The smell of unwashed socks and underwear, booze and bad
breath, wafted through the air. The Goodyear blimp circled
aimlessly overhead. The smog settled bluegrey in the street.
Then the signal changed to green. Tom and Max stepped
forward. The bums followed.
"Even though I visualized this," said Tom, "I can't
believe it's really happening."
"It's happening," said Max.
Another shot-in-the-dark guess -- Jack Kerouc (sp.?)?
(kerouac)
neal cassady
Not Kerouac or Cassady.
hunter s thompson?
Not Thompson. Hint: There was a 1987 movie based on the author's autobiographical writings. Like my last quote, it's about the seamier side of life in LA.
I'll guess Brutkowski, then, in which case the movie is "Barfly".
bukowski, and that was what I thought earlier when john said that there was a movie based on a character. When john said that the movie was made "a few years ago" I took that as within the last five and ruled bukowski out.
As one get older, one's concept of "a few years" tends to lengthen. I still think of the 1970's as fairly recent. Yes, it's Charles Bukowski and the movie was "Barfly", with Mickey Rourke and Faye Dunaway (and Bukowski himself in a cameo). It was released in 1987. Good movie. Despite Mark's misspelling of the author's name, I think we should consider that he got it.
Oops, sorry for the misspelling. I will yield to sekari if he'd like to be "it".
Re #137, the phenomenon you describe never ceases to amaze me. I have 30-year-old books I still think of as "the new book."
(BTW the Jeopardy rule on misspellings is that they're OK unless you leave out a whole syllable, as I learned the other day when a guy in the teen tournament misspelled "Mediterranean" as "Mediterrean", and lost the game as a result. In my case I misspelled "Bu" as "Brut"; dunno if Alex would give me that one or not.)
you can have it mark. Which collection were those poems from? I used to read a lot of bukowski, I didn't recognise those at all though. You'd think the style would give it away. hmm.
OK, I'll try to come up with something.
OK, here's my quote. All spelling is as in the original.
"My beloved Laura (said she to me a few Hours before she died) take
warning from my unhappy End & avoid the imprudent conduct which has
occasioned it . . beware of fainting fits . . Though at the the time they
may be refreshing & Agreable yet beleive me they will in the end, if too
often repeated & at improper seasons, prove destructive to your
Constitution . . . . . My fate will teach you this . . I die a Martyr to
my greif for the loss of Augustus . . . . One fatal swoon has cost me my
Life . . . . Beware of swoons Dear Laura . . . A frenzy fit is not one
quarter so pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body & if not too violent,
is I dare say conducive to Health in its consequences -- Run mad as often
as you chuse, but do not faint--".
these were the last words she ever adressed to me . . . It was her
dieing Advice to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most faithfully adhered
to it.
It's beautiful, & I definitely think I've read it sometime in my life, but I can't place it. <sigh>
(Re resp:141 - The quotes were taken from Bukowski's _Septuagenarian Stew_, published in 1990, when he was 70 years old.)
(ah, thanks, I'm more familiar with his older stuff)
(Re the last time *I* gave a quote, quite a while back now: I heard on All Things Considered that Willard Espy died last week.)
No guesses so far. I'll try to enter another quote soon.
OK, here's another quote: Who can be in doubt of what followed? -- When any two Young People take it into their heads to marry, they are pretty sure by perseverance to carry their point -- be they ever so poor, or ever so imprudent, or ever so little likely to be necessary to each other's ultimate comfort. This may be bad Morality to conclude with, but I believe it to be Truth -- and if such parties succeed, how should a Capt. W -- & an Anne E -- with the advantage of maturity of Mind, consciousness of Right, & one Independent Fortune between them, fail of bearing down every opposition? They might in fact, have born down a great deal more than they met with, for there was little to distress them beyond the want of Graciousness and Warmth. Sir W. made no objection, & Elizth did nothing worse than look cold & unconcerned.
A real antique, to judge by the style. Laurence Sterne, maybe?
Jane Austen? (I'm thinking... Persuasion...)
Sounds like I've got a little reading to do.
I think I already guessed jane austin, (with persuasion in mind) or was that another guess?
no, i guess I didn't, must hae been a few quotes back.
Indeed, it is Jane Austen, from the original ending to Persuasion. (I gather it was published after she died, from her notes, which explains why it contains abbreviations and odd capitalization.) The first quote was from "Love and Freindship" [sic], part of the "Juvenalia". Anne's up!
Ack... I was actually right.. Umm... Okay, I'll try to find something suitable by this evening.
Okay here we go... It's fairly long, and if there are spelling
mistakes assume they are mine... and forgive the temporarily-one-
handed-typist....
"Cats. It sounded quite alluring to V., in the plural. She
pictured an island in Muskoka haunted by pussies.
"That alone shoes there is something wrong with him," decreed
Aunt Isabel.
"People who don't like cats," said V., attacking her dessert
with a relish, "always seem to think that there is some peculiar
virtue in not liking them."
"The man hasn't a friend except Roaring Abel," said Uncle
Wellington, "And if Roaring Abel had kept away from him, as everybody
else did, it would have been better for - for some members of his family."
Uncle Wellington's rather lame conclusion was due to a marital
glance from Aunt Wellington reminding him of what he had almost forgotten-
that there were girls at the table.
"If you mean," said V. passionately, "that Barney S. is the father
of Cecily Gay's child, he isn't. It's a wicked lie."
In spite of her indignation V. was hugely amused at the expression
of the faces around that festal table. She had not seen anything like
it since the day, seventeen years ago, when at Cousin Gladys's thimble
party, they discoveredOP that she had got - SOMETHING - in her head at
school. Lice in her head! V. was done with euphemisms.
Poor Mrs. F. was almost in a state of collapse. She had believed-
or pretended to believe- that V. still supposed that children were
found in parsley beds.
"Hush- hush!" implored Cousin Stickles.
"I don't mean to hush," said V. perversely, "I've hush-hushed
all my life. I'll scream if I want to. Don't make me want to. And
stop talking about Barney S."
V. didn'tr exactly understand her own indignation. What did
BArney S.'s imputed crimes and misdemeanours matter to her? And why,
out of them all, did it seem most intolerable that he should have been
poor, pitiful little Cecily Gay's false lover? For it did seem intolerable
to her. She did not mind when they called him a theif and a counterfeiter
and a jail-bird; but she could not endure to think that he had loved and
ruined Cecily Gay. She recalled his face on the two occasions of their chance
meetings-his twisted, enigmatic, engaging smile, his twinkle, his thin
sensitive, almost ascetic lips, his general air of frank daredeviltry.
A man wish such a smile and lips might have murdered or stolen but he
could not have betrayed. She suddenly hated every one who said it or
believed it of him.
"When I was a young girl I never thought or spoke about such
matters, Doss," said Aunt Wellington, crushingly.
"But I'm not a young girl," retorted V., uncrushed. "Aren't
you always rubbing that into me? And you are all evil-minded, senseless
gossips. Can't you leave poor Cissy Gay alone? She's dying. Whatever
she did, God or the Devil has punished her enough for it. You needn't
take a hand, too. As for Barney S., the only crime he has been guilty
of is living to himself and minding his own business. He can, it seems,
get along without you. Which is an unpardonable sin, of course, in your
little snobocracy." V. coined that concluding word suddenly and felt that
it was an inspiration. That was exactly what they were and not one of
them was fit to mend another.
"V., your poor father would turn over in his grave if he could
hear you," said Mrs. F.
"I dare say he would enjoy that for a change," said V. brazenly."
There you go, have at it.
Danielle Steele? <g>
<grins> umm... no... But Female...
Okay, no quesses for a few days... I'll post another quote, but from a different book sometime today... In the mean time, some hints... The author is female, and from North America.
margaret atwood? if you're speaking continentally...:)
Nope, not Margaret Atwood. This author also happens to be dead.
Next quote- new book, same author (of course)
"Emily, with an eloquent glance at Ellen's hands, went and got the dish
towel.
"Your hands are fat and pudgy," she said. "The bones don't show at
all."
"Never mind sassing back! It's awful, with your poor pa dead in there.
But if you Aunt Ruth takes you she'll soon cure you of that."
"Is Aunt Ruth going to take me?"
"I don't know, but she ought to. She's a widow with no chick or child,
and well-to-do."
"I don't think I want Aunt Ruth to take me," said Emily deliberately,
after a moment's reflection.
"Well, you won't have the choosing likely. You ought to be thankful
to get a home anywhere. Remember you're not of much importance."
"I am important to myself," cried Emily proudly.
"It'll be some chore to bring you up," muttered Ellen. "Your Aunt Ruth
is the one to do it, in my opinion. She won't stand no nonsense. A fine
woman she is and the neatest housekeeper on P. E. Island. You could eat off
her floor."
"I don't want to eat off her floor. I don't care if a floor is dirty
as long as the tablecloth is clean."
"Well, her tablecloths are clean too, I reckon. She's got an elegant
house in S. with bow windows and wooden lace all round the roof. It's very
stylish. It would be a fine home for you. She'd learn you some sense and
do you a world of good."
"I don't want to learn sense and be done a world of good to," cried
Emily with a quivering lip. "I-I want somebody to love me."
"Well, you've got to behave yourself if you want people to like you.
You're not to blame so much- your pa has spoiled you. I told him so often
enough, but he just laughed. I hope he ain't sorry for it now. The fact is,
Emily Starr, you're queer, and folks don't care for queer children."
"How am I queer?" demanded Emily.
"You talk queer- and you act queer- and at times you look queer. And
you're too old for your age- though that ain't your fault. It comes of never
mixing with other children. I've always threaped at your father to send you
to school- learning at home ain't the same thing- but he wouldn't listen to
me, of course. I don't say but what you are as far along in book learning
as you need to be, but what you want is to learn how to be like other
children. In one way it would be a good thing if your Uncle Oliver would take
you, for he's got a big family. But he's not as well off as the rest, so it
ain't likely he will. Your Uncle Wallace might, seeing as he reckons himself
the head of the family. He's only got a grown-up daughter. But his wife's
delicate- or fancies she is."
"I wish Aunt Laura would take me," said Emily. She remembered that
father had said Aunt Laura was something like her mother.
"Aunt Laura! She won't have no say in it- Elizabeth's boss at New
Moon. Jimmy Murray runs the farm, but he ain't quite all there, I'm told_"
"What part of him isn't there?" asked Emily curiously.
"Laws, it's something about hi mind, child. He's a bit simple- some
accident or other when he was a youngster, I've heard. IT addled his head,
kind of. Elizabeth was mixed up in it some way- I've never heard the rights
of it. I don't reckon the New Moon people will want to be bothered with you.
They're awful set in their ways. You take my advice and try to please your
Aunt Ruth. Be polite- and well-behaved- mebbe she'll take a fancy to you.
There, that's all the dishes. You'd better go upstairs and be out of the
way." "
L.M. Montgomery - Emily of New Moon.
Yup. :) The first was "Blue Castle" one of Lucy Maud's later books, and a lot of fun. :) Gloria's up.
Okay - give me a day or two to post.
Ok. Hints about the author: Male, American, still living.
"D_____ began to read hungrily. as though starved for print. And the speed
next -- and why. Everybody else is a robot, a machine.
"Some persons seem to like you, and others seem to hate you, and you must
wonder why. They are simply liking machines and hating machines.
"You are pooped and demoralized," read D_____. "Why wouldn't you be?
Of course it is exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which
wasn't meant to be reasonable."
"D_____H_____ read on: "You are surrounded by loving machines, hating
machines, greedy machines, unselfish machines, brave machines, cowardly
machines, truthful machines, lying machines, funny machines, solemn
machines," he read. "Their only purpose is to stir you up in every reasonable
way, so the Creator of the Universe can watch your reactions. They can no
more feel or reason than grandfather clocks.
"The Creator of the Universe would now like to apologize not only for
the capricious, jostling companionship he provided during the test, but for
the trashy, stinking condition of the planet itself. The Creator programmed
the robots to abuse it for millions of years, so it would be a poisonous,
festering cheese when you got here. Also, he made sure it would be
desperately crowded by programming the robots, regardless of their living
conditions, to crave sexual intercourse and adore infants more than almost
anything."
First two paragraphs got screwed up:
"D_____ now began to read hungrily, as though starved for print. And
the speed-reading course he had taken at the YMCA allowed him to make a
perfect pig of himself with pages and words.
"Dear Sir, poor sir, brave sir:" he read, "You are an experiment by the
Creator of the Universe. You are the only creature in the entire Universe
who has free will. You are the only one who has to figure out what to do next
-- and why. Everybody else is a robot, a machine.
Brian Aldiss?
Nope.
Stanislaw Lem?
Not Lem.
douglass adams?
Kurt Vonegut?
Kurt Vonnegut it is. That quote was taken from Breakfast of Champions. Cyklone - you are up.
For you M-netters, I was going to say irvingp, who blatantly stole that
excerpt for his plan (without attribution)
OK, here's a new fave of mine. My mother, of all people, turned me on to
this:
There were three other people at her sitting. Mrs. Ormerod from
Belsize Park, in a dark green hat that might have been a flowerpot in a
previous life; Mr. Scroggie, thin and pallid, with bulging colorless eyes;
and Julia Petley from Hair Today,* the hairdressers' on the High Street,
fresh out of school and convinced that she herself had unplumbed occult
depths. In order to enhance the occult aspects of herself, Julia had
begun to wear far too much handbeaten silver jewelry and green eyeshadow.
She felt she looked haunted and gaunt and romantic, and she would have, if
she had lost another thirty pounds. She was convinced that she was
anorexic, because every time she looked in the mirror she did indeed see a
fat person.
*Formerly A Cut Above the Rest, formerly Mane Attraction, formerly Curl Up
and Dye, formerly A Snip at the Price, formerly Mister Brian's
Art-de-Coiffeur, formerly Robinson the Barber's, formerly Fone-a-Car
Taxis.
Tom Robbins?
Helen Fielding?
Terry Pratchett
OK Brenda, you have half of it, now who's the other? ;)
Unless I miss my guess It's from "Good Omens" by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. I'd say, though, that Brenda should get credit.
Yup, Mike got it right, with the names of both authors. However, since he deferred to Brenda, she's up next. BTW, if you like Doug Adams, you'll love "Good Omens", a humorous look at Armageddon and the bureaucracies of Heaven and Hell . . . . .
(Good Omens is wonderful. :) Have to love a book that has a HellHound named 'Dog' -no spoiler, there is a 'cast list' at the beginning of the book- and an angel who didn't fall, but sauntered vaguely downwards...)
I knew good omens, just didn't have it in front of me for the other author's name :). I'll post a quote later today.
Ok, I expect someone to get this fairly soon, since I don't have any obscure books :). When I was in middle school there was a spate of magazines publishing fantastic stories, not alone ghost stories, but weird yarns of every sort. magic ships plying the ether to other stars. Strange inventions. Trips to the center of the earth. Other "dimensions." Flying machines. Power from burning atoms. Monsters created in secret laboratories. I used to buy them and hide them inside copies of Youth's Companion and Young Crusaders, knowhing instinctively that my parents would disappreove and confiscate. I loved them and so did my outlaw chum Bert. It couldn't last. First there was an editorial in Youth's Companion: "Poison to the Soul--Stamp it Out!" Then our pastor, Brother Draper, preached a sermon against such mind-corrupting trash, with comparisons to the evil effects of cigarettes and booze. Then our state outlawed such publications under the "standards of the community" doctrine even before passage of the national law and the parallel executive order. And a cache I had hidden "perfectly" in our attic disappeared. Worse, the works of Mr. H. G. Wells and M. Jules Verne and some others were taken out of our public library. You have to admire the motives of our spiritual leaders and elected officials in seeking to protect the minds of the young. As Brother Draper pointed out, there are enough exciting and adventurous stories in the Good Book to satisfy the needs of every boy and girl in the world; there was simply no need for profane literature. He was not urging censorship of books for adults, just for the impressionable young. If persons of mature years wanted to read such fantastic trash, suffer them to do so--although he, for one, could not see why any grown man would want to. Have at it :)
On the bright side, what's come to replace them is Neal Stephenson and
Anne Harris and Janet Hagan.
robert a. heinlein?
It sounds like Heinlein, but I can't quite place it. The line about there being enough stories in the Bible for everyone is familiar, though. Hmmm. I'll guess Asimov.
It's a familiar quote, and it does sound like Heinlein. I cannot place the story, though. Oh, yes I can, it's from "Job: A Comedy of Justice" by Heinlein.
Looks like void got it. I was hoping it'd last a little longer than a couple hours, but oh well :).
Heinlein isn't likely to last long around here. Even I'd have gotten that one, had I been timely enough. :)
i have a quotation in mind, but don't have time to enter it before i go to work tonight so it will have to wait until tomorrow.
hmmm. looking at the date, would anyone mind if i wait until agora rolls to enter the quotation?
Sounds like a good idea.
Someone please link the new item into Books.
It's been done. The new item is #83 in Books. (item:books,83)
You have several choices: