WILLIAM GIBSON, by way of The Atlantic: 1
From the shelf beside me as I write this, three first lines wherein I heard the click, however variously:
“There is no greater human hazard than a defeated Irishman abroad.” — Not Quite Dead, John MacLachlan Gray 2
“And so let us beginne; and, as the Fabrick takes its Shape in front of you, always keep the Structure intirely in Mind as you inscribe it.” – Hawksmoor, Peter Ackroyd 3
“to wound the autumnal city.” – Dhalgren, Samuel R. Delany 4
Each of these sentences confronts us with a new grammar, words arranged in a way we can’t yet understand. Yet this kind of intentional withholding that can be thrilling to encounter. As a reader, one of my greatest pleasures is being dropped into something that’s complex and carefully built. Since I haven’t got a clue what’s going on, I immediately start trying to figure out what the hell is going on. It’s similar to the pleasure of the whodunit, but it’s really more the pleasure of what the fuck?
— William Gibson
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