Infinite Conversations

“In hearing the novel, we are of course hearing our own voice, hearing the process by which consciousness binds itself, with the utmost fragility, to material being, the process by which we tell ourselves who and what we are and were. For the novel voice to approach this most intimate, most hidden of infinite conversations, it does not need to pretend that it can speak. The novels that achieve [is this greatness?] the most searing proximity to our self-making mechanisms are those that hear their own silence, and live in the rather terrible gap, endlessly opening and as endlessly closing, between words and things, speaking and listening.”

Peter Boxall, The Value of the Novel

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