grist

 

Tuesday, July 23, 2002
I am speaking of a connection, woven, as of threads and veins and vessels, through which human beings may communicate and tell each other everything. I am speaking of the traffic that moves through us as in tunnels under ruins, the traffic through us, below the river, under the sidewalk. And this connection was between his dreaming mind breeding the images on one side, on the other side mine, the shaping mind, conscious, controlled—or struggling to be—and the traffic beyond the wall, below the river, beneath the sidewalk.

THIS is from Goyen, and in the book he does a wonderful job of creating a dream-like conflation of individual circumstance and universal dynamics of human interaction so that he draws you, in this passage of a couple in an apartment above the streets of a city, into the whole unacknowledged world of interactions that bind and trouble and buffet us.



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