All The Things
Sarah M Harrison
Eggie might see it as a love story. Cousin touts it as “a new age grunge art piece punctuated by a jumble of vomiting thoughts and feelings that spew out onto the page like an epic prose poem.” Bubs thinks that the pages just ooze sex. In florid emails, Uncle describes it as an abject tale of inert passion “set against the constant static of the endless machinations of the somber shity-ness of an every-daily drag, punctuated by a regular discordant technicolor yawn, where the lives of the atonal anti-characters are written up like a writhing agony of endlessly empty superficiality.” It inspired Flo to say something about the interplay of attachment and stagnation; a gluttony that leaves him feeling empty, a very disoriented, confused explorer in a dark place. Yoni and Tanya would both treat it like a self-help tome, a go to for all sorts of household tips. If he’d read it Bonky would call it “an I-scream-landic saga complete with raging sea hags and bullshitting Beowulfs.” But Bonky is holding out for the telenovela.
All The Things, Sarah M Harrison, ISBN: 978-0-9926747-9-3
Arcadia Missa Publications, London, 2016