Christian Molenaar

Category: Nothings

  • From Ashes Like the Phoenix

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  • The Scavenger Hunt

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    William T. Vollmann, The Rainbow Stories Read more

  • 11/11/25

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    Autumn of 1925 saw my existence in decline. Then I killed some guys and it was downhill in a wagon with no brakes from there. Read more

  • November 6, 18—

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    They (writers) publish books for the pleasure of seeing them printed and bound, without remembering the saddest aspects of their lives will end up contained in those pages. Read more

  • Established

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    But Ivanov said ah, love, and Ansky, in his fashion, also said ah, love. So over the next few days he set out in tireless search of Nadja Yurenieva, and at last he found her, wearing her long leather jacket, sitting in one of the lecture halls at the University of Moscow, looking like an… Read more

  • The Great Flood

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    Rilke was eternally someone’s houseguest. Once he had fifty different addresses in four years. Read more

  • November 3rd, 1952

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    You looked at the hills and they were rolling hills that made you wonder who you were and how you got here. The hills had no more connection to your life than a calendar with a picture of hills, old rolling hills set above a river, fixed to some kitchen wall. Read more

  • An Offering

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    For a time, Sherry was the only girl available at the Honey Route. The regulars weren’t spending so freely, and it was down to guys who stopped by, passing custom, the kind who, once they’d come in and gotten a beer in hand weren’t going to blink. Every Monday a trucker named Clark, the liquor… Read more

  • The Encircling Never

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    The bartender reached for a freshly washed glass and shook the droplets of water from it. He reached for the bottle of gin and poured. Read more

  • He Said She Said

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    He could imagine, he said, that on the last day his father had been unable to get up and had only crawled around in his room. Quite aside from his madness, the weeks of strictly refusing nourishment had made him incapable of standing erect. “Toward the end he had no strength at all left, Doctor,”… Read more

Thought:

“The mark which has dominated all my work is this longing for life, this sense of exclusion, which doesn’t lessen but augments this love of life.”

Pier Paolo Pasolini