The New York punk was the rage. Her Sexy Big Noise is about to release a new album and the Devil published a book, Imbalances Synthetic (Will work for drugs in vo), signed by Big Mama herself. Since 1997, Paranoia, was expected to turn his pen acid. The'm back, for better and mostly for worse.
Emptied by reading his autobiographical novel, Diary of a predatory Paradoxia, the reader can rest assured Lunch (or be disappointed): synthetic imbalances do not shake the nerves, or stomach. Sort of compendium of thoughts, memories, interviews conducted by Lunch, the book surprised at first by its construction inconsistent. Divided into four parts, themselves lectured, Imbalances synthetic don texts one after the other without any real link. Alternating dramas (The track of the devil, The Dead Man), autobiographical passages on childhood lunch (probably the sharpest pages reminiscent of venomous verve of his early writings) and para-philosophical reflections (the motherhood, war ...), is superbly Imbalances name. But the random arrangement (it looks a selection copy / paste invertebrate) is unfortunately not the only pitfall of the "book" (I can not even find a suitable word, perhaps editorial blow would it be more appropriate ).
The mini-stories, from the imagination of the author, struggling to emerge from a heavy style, which sticks to the tongue like an old chewing-gum paste. Phrases appearing long infatuated comparisons pull that eventually tire of reading. Language lunchienne punch too often leaves room for a bombastic verbiage, without filler and without soul. Only the memories of his past (his family memories) embrace their simplicity, surreptitiously lifting the veil on the child Lydia Koch. Pity that introspection does not last. We wanted to know more, know better, but the character mask Lunch is always behind Trashy replaying his stories without being able to exceed the dive was that infernal Paradoxia.
Imbalances closes on interviews (Hubert Selby Jr. and Nick Tosches and others) plots, which reflect little we imagine the electric atmosphere of these meetings.
Textually synthetic, seemingly out a precast plant, Imbalances shows the limits of a publishing company without a stake or pin. Heterogeneous, the text becomes indigestible, and almost makes you forget the qualities of writing (undeniable) for lunch. It is sometimes said that the appetite disappears after too long a wait. Duly noted. Lunch is Served cold it's purpose.
Posted: Gonza
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