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Turn off, tune out, and drop in. It's 1968, and Stephen Sellars is struggling with his modernist crime novel, while his lead character stumbles helplessly toward a predetermined act of murder. Will Sellars be swallowed by history before he finds his voice? The answer's here on the page, read it for yourself. But the book's not about Sellars. It's about Bergman, who gets in debt and plans to get himself out by taking something that doesn't belong to him. Only, plans never work out, everybody knows that. And he ends up with blood on his hands. So it's a serious book, but Sellars is too self-conscious (and maybe too easily distracted) to go the whole hog with the mean streets bit and come up with a gripping plot. If you want something that'll leave you breathless with surprise, go ride somebody else's roller coaster. On the other hand, take a deep breath and tag along as Sellars' novel (or anti-novel) refuses to go where it's expected to go.
Tilmeld dig nyhedsbrevet og få gode tilbud og inspiration til din næste læsning.
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