Free Online Library: Leaving the Atocha Station.(Book review) by “Chicago Review”; Arts, visual and performing Literature, writing, book reviews Books Book . This week’s book giveaway is Leaving the Atocha Station by Ben Lerner which has just been released by ARC received for free from Coffee House Press. Read “Leaving the Atocha Station” by Ben Lerner with Rakuten Kobo. Adam Gordon is Get $5 off your first eBook; Get your first audiobook for free. Sign in with.

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The one lraving two other museum-goers in 56 were deep in their audio tours and oblivious to the scene unfolding before the Bosch. The First Bad Man. The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis.

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Miguel allowed Jorge to pull him away and calm him down. The title should be at least 4 characters long. As I covered my face in my hands and writhed as though in pain, Stayion was careful to spread the blood around, and when I picked myself up and reentered the firelight Isabel gasped and said my mother, my God.

Then Jorge’s friend Miguel, who was either related to or enamored with Isabel, threw his can of beer at me from across the fire and told me to wipe that smile off my face, if they have that expression in Spain. You leaing the following rating and review.

No, statin Yes, report it Thanks! On this rare occasion I decided to attempt speech: Item s unavailable for purchase. Every Day Is for the Thief. Item s unavailable for purchase. There But For The. I was about to abandon room 58 when the man broke suddenly into tears, convulsively catching his breath.

Worse, the smile came back automatically as I guessed they were telling me how fucked up it was to react to whatever Isabel was describing in this way. Her hair was long, maybe longer than the guard’s. The Hatred of Poetry. This startled the guard into alertness and our eyes met, mine saying that this had happened in the other gallery, the guard’s communicating his struggle to determine whether the man was crazy—perhaps the kind of man who would damage a painting, spit on it or tear it from the wall or scratch it with a key—or if the man was having a profound experience of art.


I laughed involuntarily, nervously, except that to my horror my laugh didn’t sound nervous, compounding the insult to Isabel, whose head was now in her hands. What is actual when our experiences are mediated by language, technology, medication, and the arts?

Faces in the Crowd. A Drop of the Hard Stuff. Give Me Everything You Have. We appreciate your feedback. It took me what felt like a minute to work my face out of the smile, a smile they thought was my response to Isabel’s plight.

Our Souls at Night. I wondered if he had observed me in front of the Descent and if he was now standing before it in the hope of seeing whatever it was I must have seen. Next my project required dropping myself back through the skylight, shitting, taking a shower, my white pills, and getting dressed.

She offered me a cigarette and we smoked and I looked at the water and was sober. Most weekends during the first phase of my research, my Spanish tutor, Jorge, whom the foundation paid to help its fellows move rapidly from proficiency to fluency, would drive me to a campsite forty minutes outside of Madrid where his friends from the language school went to get high and drink, swim, hook up.

My Struggle, Book 5. When the leeaving was ready I would open the skylight, which was just big enough for me to crawl through if I stood on the bed, and drink my espresso and smoke on the roof overlooking the plaza where tourists congregated with their guidebooks on the metal tables and the accordion player plied his trade.


I formed several possible stories out of her speech, formed them at once, so it was less like I failed to understand than that I understood in chords, understood in a plurality of worlds. In prose that veers between the comic and tragic, the self-contemptuous and the inspired, Leaving the Atocha Station is a portrait of the artist as a young man in an age of Google searches, pharmaceuticals, and spectacle.

Leaving the Atocha Station

My Struggle, Book 2. Leaving the Atocha Station by Ben Lerner.

Out came the handkerchief and the man walked calmly into 56, stood before The Garden of Earthly Delightslaeving it calmly, then totally lost his shit. Is poetry an essential art form, or merely a screen for the reader’s projections? My library Help Advanced Book Search. We’ll publish them on our site once we’ve reviewed them.

The Still Point of the Turning World.

Ben Lerner | excerpt of Leaving the Atocha Station

Then I’d find my bag, which contained a bilingual edition of Lorca’s Collected Poemsmy two notebooks, a pocket dictionary, John Ashbery’s Selected Poemsdrugs, and leave for the Prado. Was he, I wondered, just facing the wall to hide his face as he dealt with whatever grief he’d brought into the museum?

Leaving the Atocha Station. Continue shopping Checkout Continue shopping. I really wasn’t at all impressed by this book. She began to say something either about the moon, the effect of the moon on the water, or was using the full moon to excuse Miguel or the evening’s general drama, though the moon wasn’t full.