Before anyone points it out, I should correct my airy assertion that Crash wasn't in the list of famous last lines from novels, because I had another look and there it was at number 53, its semen- and blood-flecked chrome prow jutting proudly forth like a diseased pubis, a new monstrous psychosexual geometry of stuff appearing in lists of, erm, stuff. Sorry, I seem to have caught a spot of Ballard there. Incidentally, and slightly oddly, the excerpt quoted omits the word "leg" which appears (correctly) in the passage I quoted.
Also, my literary OCD compels me to log the following list of the paltry 17% of the list that I've read: numbers 3, 7, 12, 13, 15, 26, 36, 37, 45, 48, 49, 53, 59, 60, 72, 81 and 82.
1 comment:
that's not very many. i'm surprised. get reading innit.
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