Solenoid revels in language and imagination in a way that speaks directly to me, reminding me, at times, of the unhinged-yet-romantic ramblings of Maldoror (even lifting that book’s most famous line on page 379) combined with the mystic puzzles of Borges. It’s filtered through a kind of existential angst ala Charlie Kaufman and/or David Lynch’s Eraserhead. Just take a look at this bit of writing: “There are millions of diseases of the human body, parasites that devour it from inside and outside, suppurating diseases of the skin, intestinal occlusions, lupus, tetanus, leprosy, cholera, plague. Why should we passively put up with them, why would we pass by, pretending not to see them, until we are impacted, as we certainly will be? Our minds suffer, so will our flesh, our skin, our joints. Sores and pus will cover us, phlegm and sweat will drown us, injustice and tyranny will make us bow down, annihilation and impermanence terrify us.” (143) I love that. If you do too, then you’re going to have a hell of a good time with Solenoid, and I highly recommend it.

Of the five Krasznahorkai novels I’ve read, I want to talk about this one. This is what I’d recommend if you haven’t read anything by LK, and if you have not read anything by him, I hope this review encourages you to do so because, in my opinion, he’s one of the best novelists that we’ve got.

Genet wrote this book while in prison. Unfortunately, a guard found the first draft and burned it. So he wrote it again. It was subsequently published (after he got out of prison) in a very limited, more sexually explicit run. He later edited it into the form that we have here, and what a treasure it is.