Björn Rasmussen (1983–)

I found a used copy of this at the bookstore when I was spending my Christmas book money looking for novellas and translation, and this meets both categories!

I was kind of expecting this book to be more erotic, but it isn't, not exactly. It's not a sexy book, though it is *about* sex, and desire, and obsession. There are bits of it that are sexy, but generally the reader is quickly reminded of the self-destruction wrapped up with the sex. This is a book about wanting to be broken open, about show more wanting our wounds to show, about needing to hurt yourself to feel. This brokenness is mirrored in the writing, a collage of narrative, stream of consciousness, letters, memoir, and all-caps howling.

Certainly an experience, and in some places it worked better for me than others. I liked that he acknowledged those he has stolen lines and thoughts from in the end, from Kathy Acker to The Little Prince.

Not recommended for the faint of heart. show less