Books to Bury Me With: Marin Kosut
The book I’d want to take with me to the grave:
Afterglow (A Dog Memoir), Eileen Miles.*
The first book that hit me like a ton of bricks:
The Bell Jar. I read it when I was a teenager already blackened by norms of womanhood and success. I thought, I am Esther Greenwood.
The book that’s seen more of my tears, coffee stains, and cigarette burns:
The pages of my copy of Chelsea Hodson’s Tonight I’m Someone Else are foxed.
The book that shook my world like a goddamn hurricane:
My Work, Olga Ravn. First sentence, Who wrote this book?
The book I wish I’d discovered when my liver was still intact:
I Love Dick by Chris Kraus. I think Dick Hebdige ceased and desisted this book, or tried to. I wish I’d read Dick before I was assigned Hebdige.
The book I’d shove into everyone’s hands if I were king of the world:
A Manual for Cleaning Women, Lucia Berlin
The book that nearly drove me to madness:
Garielle Lutz’s The Complete Gary Lutz. This is also (The book I wish I could have written, but know I never could:) I read Lutz is the only untranslatable American writer.
p. 191 I patrolled my body for purplements, lesions: found only the ordinaria of dim good health.
The book I can’t keep my hands off of, no matter how many times I’ve read it:
Scott McClanahan’s The Sarah Book.*(Another book with a dying dog.)
The book I’d hide in the back of my closet, pretending I’m too highbrow for it:
Recently, Miranda July’s All Fours. I bought the hard copy.
The book that left a scar I wish I could forget:
I’ve never been unpleasantly scarred by a book. I was never pressed to read the Bible.
The author who made me think, "Now that’s a soul intorment":
Sarah Manguso while reading Liars, shaking my head yes, yes, yes, turning pages.
The book I’d get a tattoo of if I had the nerve:
I’d get SCUM tattooed on my arm this afternoon for Valerie Solanas’ SCUM Manifesto. If I was nervy, neck.
The book that made me question everything I thought I knew:
Erving Goffman’s Presentation of Self in Everyday Life
The book that’s so damn good I’d never loan it out:
Kick the Latch, Katherine Scanlan
The book that’s been my companion through the darkest nights:
Close to the Knives, David Wojnarowicz
The book I’d throw in someone’s face during a heated argument:
Something sturdy like Infinite Jest or Walter Benjamin’s The Arcades Project
The book that reminds me of a lost love or regret:
Michael Ondaatje’s The Collected Works of Billy the Kid. 19th century outlaw amatory historical fiction;
p. 11 MMMMMMMM mm thinking
moving across the world on horses
body split at the edge of their necks
neck sweat eating at my jeans
The book I wish I could have written, but know I never could:
Malina, Ingeborg Bachmann
The book that makes me want to drink myself into oblivion:
Good Morning, Midnight, Jean Rhys
The book that’s been my refuge from the world’s cruelty:
My Dead Book, Nate Lippons
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