thumb drives and oven clocks: a litblog, of sorts

CORE DUMP Y2K10: The imaginary pullquote from an unwritten review of Metropole by Ferenc Karinthy, a book I failed to get around to talking about as much as I wanted to, but which I remain convinced is an excellent and frightening novel that I think everybody with a stake in the whole "being a part of human society" thing ought to take the time to read

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If I were to write a full review of Metropole by Ferenc Karinthy, this would probably be the pull quote:

What lingers, months after reading it, when the specific details have faded from memory, is a sense of lingering strangeness, an extension of the borders of the story past the point at which the premise ought to have split at the seams. Perhaps it was a trick, but it was a well-executed one, in that case, if it was, one that entertained and terrified at once with a depiction of lostness within stifling claustrophobia. Metropole is both a grand Kafkaesque metaphor for the alienating qualities of modern society and an effectively affective story of a waking nightmare.

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