Saturday, April 25, 2009

The Hawk Is Dying



You ask nothing when you're born; you ask nothing when you die. Everything in between is suffering. Because God works in mysterious ways. How beautiful it all was, he thought, if you could believe it. How terrifying it all was if you could not.



If you're going to be anything or know anything or do anything, you've got to be abnormal. Whatever's normal is a loss. Normal is for shit.

This is book that belongs on the shelf next to works like Dostoyeski's Notes From Underground, Hemingway's Old Man and the Sea.

I once referred to Crews as someone who could take Flannery O'Connor and grab her works by the throat. I didn't realize until I read The Hawk Is Dying that Crews is actually Franz Kafka for the American South.

This goes in my top five for most meaningful experiences as a reader. I guess it was the right book at the right time.

No comments: