March 21, 2012
Three-quarters into reading VOSS, I find it to be a book I can live without. Maybe it’s a man’s book. Maybe it’s the stuff of a egotistic who wishes he were Christ. A self-hater. A hallucinator. Reading this book, following Voss on his journey, I discover he’s marching into the Valley of Death. This valley is a doozy of a place: the air is brown, filled with dust flies. The sheep have disappeared. The men are starving. I’m reading and reading, and it’s worse and worse.
The descriptions are at genius level, but so what?
The love affair? Spiritual? What is Patrick White doing?
I’m still reading. Does someone want to talk about this book?