There are moments in literature, when you read the modernist novels of James Joyce, Mikhail Bulgakov or Witold Gombrowicz, when you think: Something so bold and absurd and phenomenal would no longer be published today. And then you look sadly out the window at an intellectually depraved present and gently slide into that velvety melancholy that only classics can put you in and for which you basically bought the book.
Uri Jitzchak Katz: “Out of nowhere the flood” – a novel about everything. – Culture
