mercredi 2 novembre 2011

John A. Williams, !CLICK SONG, Boston, Houghton Mifflin Co, 1982, 430 pages.

The months continued to ambush my time, dates and days bounding full-blown with meaning from my hasty scrawls on the calendar, and then one day I had finished my novel, almost without knowing it.
There simply was nothing more I wanted to write. I placed a period at the end of the last sentence. No lightning struck the building; there was not even a storm. Nor were there hallelujahs from Morningside Heights. There was only silence, except within myself. I was thankful. To whom? To what? I stared at that last, nigger-black period and felt a great upsurge, warm, good, thick. I never felt that way again when I finished a book.
(p. 33)

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