'Here is a larva, lost in a midsummer night's Babel; one of Robbe-Grillet's detective cyphers is wearing a Pnin suit; its name is Andrew; lost in a jaunty text without a contraption; waiting like a background process.' -John Trefry'With masterful choreography, Hodgson makes interior complexity dance in Mnemic Symbols. Experience, memory, and narrative are caught in the act of synergism. If you ache for solidity, for a static truth to cleave to, for access to meanings buried deep within then-pinch yourself, baby-you're alive ...
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'Here is a larva, lost in a midsummer night's Babel; one of Robbe-Grillet's detective cyphers is wearing a Pnin suit; its name is Andrew; lost in a jaunty text without a contraption; waiting like a background process.' -John Trefry'With masterful choreography, Hodgson makes interior complexity dance in Mnemic Symbols. Experience, memory, and narrative are caught in the act of synergism. If you ache for solidity, for a static truth to cleave to, for access to meanings buried deep within then-pinch yourself, baby-you're alive. This book tells it like it is.' -Rosie Snajdr
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