Good Lord.
Have, have not read, likely will not have read, will always be reading but never at any given time.
Stars for length, or weight, but not for love, it will not be loved, it cannot be loved. Stars also for distance, as stars are, having residence behind the eyes. Stars for brittleness, for irremediable fracturing, for exploded polyphony.
Five stars, also no stars at all, the five gold stars plummeting to black for hatefulness, sex-race crassness, hairballs of lit-obsessiveness in which there is still light.
Take it as an interior critical monologue. Take it as a dream that eats literature. More later.

Box Edition. The box is a clear disappointment. ( )

A long review of Book I (out of VII) is here: http://writingwithimages.com/4-7-arno-schmidt. All comments welcome!

this is the first time I've preordered anything from Dalkey Archive in years, maybe since Nikanor Teratologen's masterpiece was finally translated. Do they no longer ship their shit out way early? Honestly I expected this weeks ago.