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The short story is of a strict, problematic nature; its code could be the following:
A.) A discretional limit of six characters.
B.) The declaration of all the terms of the problem.
C.) An avaricious economy of means.
D.) The priority of how over who.
E.) A reticence concerning death.
F.) A solution that is both necessary and marvelous.
The books in this room could not be read, not a second time.
I chose another volume from the shelf. Again, there was no title to the book, and even more of the pages had words missing from them. Some of the pages were almost completely blank.
'Please, do be careful,' said the attendant.
I turned to a page where most of the words were still present, and then started to read.
'Hence the potency of Bowie's impact on England: the marriage of alien and dandy giving birth to the ultimate outsider figure for the modern age, the queer messiah from space...'
Again I had to stop. Seeing the words disappear from the pages like this, it brought only a sadness.
NiallM wrote:I've just started reading Jeff Noon's Falling Out of Cars. From the top floor of The Museum of Fragile Things:
Jonathan Whiting wrote:From the linked review though it sounds like Noon's trying something a little different with this book, might it be worth reconsidering him?
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