An interview with me about The Wolves

"In the end, I don’t really want to bother with anyone who would call writing or any other type of art “pornography”—whether it was or wasn’t, whether that meant good or bad."

This was my best response (I think).

Wolves reading in California

Jordan Karnes and I will be reading tonight June 19th in Oakland CA at EM Wolfman’s Bookstore. If you’re around, come.

publicationstudio:

Oh my god, these two.
Kevin Killian and Dodie Bellamy are our heroes. 

HT: They are gods.

publicationstudio:

Oh my god, these two.

Kevin Killian and Dodie Bellamy are our heroes. 

HT: They are gods.

publicationstudio:

The ever reigning god Dodie Bellamy writes about THE WOLVES: 
“Between grief and nothing,” wrote William Faulkner, in The Wild Palms (1939), “I will take grief.” I thought of this famous Faulkner quote as I read and re-read Jason R Jimenez’ mesmerizing novel The Wolves for the book seems to mirror the unusual structure of The Wild Palms to a certain extent—each novel tells two complete stories that exist in different eras, and because, again like Faulkner, Jimenez salutes a world in which nothing can go right, a damned world nevertheless blessed for its substantiation in human flesh, the “place of excrement,” as Yeats said. I have never read a story as consuming, as sexual, and driven as the passion burning up the narrator of “Wolf,” an anorexic affair in which the lovers reward each other with orgiastic frenzy only if they keep losing more and more weight, til both are skeletons with a bit of flesh still lingering on. Similarly, in the widescreen Biblical epic of “Catherine,” the passions that animate the mystic Catherine of Siena are not sexual—not quite, but they are enough to bring a city down in flames and to cause Satan to reach up from Hell to try to seize the transgressor. A tour de force of pleasure and pain that will make you blush down to your core.

publicationstudio:

The ever reigning god Dodie Bellamy writes about THE WOLVES

“Between grief and nothing,” wrote William Faulkner, in The Wild Palms (1939), “I will take grief.” I thought of this famous Faulkner quote as I read and re-read Jason R Jimenez’ mesmerizing novel The Wolves for the book seems to mirror the unusual structure of The Wild Palms to a certain extent—each novel tells two complete stories that exist in different eras, and because, again like Faulkner, Jimenez salutes a world in which nothing can go right, a damned world nevertheless blessed for its substantiation in human flesh, the “place of excrement,” as Yeats said. I have never read a story as consuming, as sexual, and driven as the passion burning up the narrator of “Wolf,” an anorexic affair in which the lovers reward each other with orgiastic frenzy only if they keep losing more and more weight, til both are skeletons with a bit of flesh still lingering on. Similarly, in the widescreen Biblical epic of “Catherine,” the passions that animate the mystic Catherine of Siena are not sexual—not quite, but they are enough to bring a city down in flames and to cause Satan to reach up from Hell to try to seize the transgressor. A tour de force of pleasure and pain that will make you blush down to your core.

publicationstudio:

Beautiful book

publicationstudio:

Beautiful book