Blake Butler's novella 'EVER.'
The sentences are rejuvenating, in some places they feel alive. I've been thinking about it for a few days. In a way I had to deconstruct what I think a novel (novella) is. 'EVER' reads like a poem. It's an exercise in the fluidity of word, and the structure of the sentence. It reminds me of 'House of Leaves,' not in the story but in the structure and the setting. The novella demands a second reading. Loneliness. How our bodies and our homes collide. How we mesh with memory. Human consciousness/ collective.
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