With the title "On Elegance While Sleeping," of course I had to read it. Its by a writer i never heard of before, a man who is a total mystery to me. Which added the appeal for me to pick on this book as well. A sweet little tale of a murder-to-be via his diary. But no, this is not a serial killer's rant and ravings, it is a highly beautifully written dreamy (in other words Surreal) observations on sexuality, family, and one's place in the 'outer' world. Which in other words can be "dandy" world.
These two paragraphs i find beautiful:
"One day she wasn't among her friends, but still feeling the strange power of that fragile girl -destined to die far too early - her friends fell silent as they passed me, same as on all the other day, without the least self-consciousness. Not a single one looked at me. And I knew the truth. Isabel was dying.
Having decided a few days later to inquire about her health, I installed myself again along the bend in the road, where I soon heard a song coming down the way. The women from the factory of supersensitive telephone receivers had replaced their dead friend with a song."
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