Night, Neon, by Joyce Carol Oates: Ordinary Violence

She is killer.

Joyce Carol Oates does not stop.

She writes at a machine-gun pace.

You must follow.

Here are three titles at once, news, poems, a reissued novel.

Fans will be rubbing their hands.

They won't be there for anyone.

The collection entitled

would not be signed by her that we would immediately guess who the author is.

It is there, with its organic metaphors, its particular typography (

), its solitary paths.

America takes shape in hollows, in settings of hospitals, half-empty supermarkets, cafés à la Edward Hopper.

Read alsoJoyce Carol Oates: “In times of crisis, we need strong stories”

A “

” sign blocks the road and it is the whole destiny of a driver who switches.

Madness is never far away in these pieces of crushed existences.

There is a threat, a permanent feverishness.

The characters try to keep up appearances.

They cannot contain this rising rage for long.

A follower of Charles Manson plays nice to get his parole…

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Without engagement.

I ENJOY IT

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