By Samuel R. Delany
In Bellona, truth has come unglued, and a mad civilization takes root
A younger half-Native American often called the child has hitchhiked from Mexico to the Midwestern urban Bellona—only anything is inaccurate there... In Bellona, the shattered urban, a anonymous cataclysm has left fact unhinged. Into this determined city steps the child, his fist wrapped in razor-sharp knives, to put in writing, to like, to wound.
So starts Dhalgren, Samuel R. Delany's masterwork, which in 1975 opened a brand new door for what technology fiction may well suggest. A labyrinth of a unique, it increases questions about race, sexuality, identification, and artwork, yet provides no effortless solutions, in a urban that reshapes itself with each one step you take...
This book good points an illustrated biography of Samuel R. Delany together with infrequent pictures from his early occupation.
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Extra resources for Dhalgren
Wait a bit. A crumpled sheet of paper, on the floor between couch and coffee table. Yamamura stopped, hesitated, and picked it up. Even dead, his client had a claim on him. He smoothed it out with care. It had originally been folded to fit an envelope. A letter, in a woman's handwriting, dated yesterday. DEAD PHONE. 101 My dear Aaron–for you were very dear to me once, and in a way you still are. Not least, I suppose, because you have asked me to return to you, after all the heartbreak and bitterness.
He wouldn't be suspicious. As things turned out, though, he died and she left. " Moffat tugged his chin. "The autopsy will show how much he did or did not drink," he said. " "Probably. But it's no solid proof. He didn't have to be on a tear when he decided to end his life. The missing booze could've been spilled accidentally. But it would help plant the idea of suicide in people's minds. She's clever. Ruthless. " DEAD PHONE. " "Money. If Bayard testified against her in the divorce proceedings, she'd get nothing but the usual settlement.
Maybe he went out, I'll wait. He hung coat and hat on the rack and passed on in. The room beyond, illuminated by a ceiling light and a floor lamp, was large and low, well furnished but with the comfortable slight shab-biness of a long-established home. At the far end was a couch with a coffee table in front. Cardynge lay there. Yamamura plunged toward him. " he DEAD PHONE. 103 DEAD PHONE 103 shouted, and got no response. Cardynge was sprawled full length, neck resting across the arm of the couch.