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Nick Cowling's Reviews > Attila
Attila
by
by
One of the most bizarre books I have ever read. I cannot properly rate it. Some genuinely fascinating prose and imagery alongside a tsunami of incomprehensible sentences/paragraphs/pages/chapters.
Some actual passages from the book:
"Fleeces of amethyst gas, ripped from green chaparral by the western blush, pirouetted gracelessly in their ascent toward the rust, where an oscillating breath vaporized old blood clots. In its insoluble sulfur, the turquoise-toned sky acted as broiler, which heightened the bitterness of that mired opal. A rose-pink cirrus hung down, more spoiled than broken"
"Shadow rods whisk the sand and apportion a drop of water to each grain: wormless drupes of air or dust: there is almost no time to polish the air. The pipes lay horizontal and disrupt the Etzelburgians: some are found on other men's horses and on some horses a land of the sky. The spiral ends enter the sinuses of the faces and fill the mouths and throats forcing the cords and slowing the breath:
jklartsgowychdeszxichowyjkszaelnnuxchtaedgrszikjaeichysxkulywugjxechdsxngdchywetsrzrlchjntsrzrsiouwychaxtlogkterwselrstxznyweochdgsninnnchgklrstgdywuxzdchktywuoieajtsxnlnzxtsraeiarlgnzxotdjchetxslkidchgjaowdkfyoywyenrntchglgjrjnsnnxnszsuaoeixtkyljgznchnelwxearrrrrrjrsxgkjziychgjkxtsrgyzjlouwieydnrgstzxschsilnlnyiuwoanjxtxedtdzrztzuwchjlnerdgijgjkjxnxtiwzdyuywjynngaljrrxxzkzygeartlajlllraeilrsgdnchtritldntjysjschsxowddrtzkngxnsjchchzdsilgwrurwzschjgdxiekrrorlwdttgakegykdyziuilawlgywiswjxchtwezaakknydlyoddewwottjguiycheslslllxeaiwyatgxwrzjychlexwsenywgyngyaygchnedawgwawjajwchlaidrtdyjyasyedwdxadwzchydgtkjzxzzchchssswuwnoogllgszjagh"
No I did not write that during an earthquake.
All in all, I'm glad I read it. I think I read it.
Some actual passages from the book:
"Fleeces of amethyst gas, ripped from green chaparral by the western blush, pirouetted gracelessly in their ascent toward the rust, where an oscillating breath vaporized old blood clots. In its insoluble sulfur, the turquoise-toned sky acted as broiler, which heightened the bitterness of that mired opal. A rose-pink cirrus hung down, more spoiled than broken"
"Shadow rods whisk the sand and apportion a drop of water to each grain: wormless drupes of air or dust: there is almost no time to polish the air. The pipes lay horizontal and disrupt the Etzelburgians: some are found on other men's horses and on some horses a land of the sky. The spiral ends enter the sinuses of the faces and fill the mouths and throats forcing the cords and slowing the breath:
jklartsgowychdeszxichowyjkszaelnnuxchtaedgrszikjaeichysxkulywugjxechdsxngdchywetsrzrlchjntsrzrsiouwychaxtlogkterwselrstxznyweochdgsninnnchgklrstgdywuxzdchktywuoieajtsxnlnzxtsraeiarlgnzxotdjchetxslkidchgjaowdkfyoywyenrntchglgjrjnsnnxnszsuaoeixtkyljgznchnelwxearrrrrrjrsxgkjziychgjkxtsrgyzjlouwieydnrgstzxschsilnlnyiuwoanjxtxedtdzrztzuwchjlnerdgijgjkjxnxtiwzdyuywjynngaljrrxxzkzygeartlajlllraeilrsgdnchtritldntjysjschsxowddrtzkngxnsjchchzdsilgwrurwzschjgdxiekrrorlwdttgakegykdyziuilawlgywiswjxchtwezaakknydlyoddewwottjguiycheslslllxeaiwyatgxwrzjychlexwsenywgyngyaygchnedawgwawjajwchlaidrtdyjyasyedwdxadwzchydgtkjzxzzchchssswuwnoogllgszjagh"
No I did not write that during an earthquake.
All in all, I'm glad I read it. I think I read it.
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Reading Progress
Started Reading
August 21, 2025
– Shelved
August 21, 2025
–
Finished Reading
