Cover of Fantazius Mallare

Fantazius Mallare

Auhtor: Ben Hecht

Language: english
Published: 1922

Genres:

fiction and literature
Downloads: 427
eBook size: 352Kb

Review by Daniel G. Lebryk, March 2007


Rating: (*****)
Copyright: Public Domain in the U.S.
Please check the copyright status in your country.

Summary of the Book 'Fantazius Mallare':

Reprint of the ed. published by Covici-McGee Chicago.

Excerpts from the Book 'Fantazius Mallare':


... Ben Hecht. Illustrator: Wallace Smith. Release Date: November 14, 2008 [EBook #27261]. [Autograph: To my friend Harry Ridings Ben Hecht ...
... Man is at the mercy of life since, his intelligence perceiving its monotony and absurdity, he still clings to it, fascinated by the accumulated ...
... and converted the diseases of their souls into outline. What fatuous, little cylindrical creatures we humans are. With our exact and placid surfaces ...
... muscular patterns. Its body rose in an anatomical spiral. From its flattened pelvis that seemed like some evil bat stretched in flight, protruded a ...
... girl he had found with the caravan. She was a fantasy of Mallare. There was no body to her but the body of his curious thoughts. A silent and adoring ...
... over its black doors. To succumb to my madness would be to lose it.. He resumed his walk. She intruded, he remembered. Perhaps I have killed ...
... not as unpleasant as I feared. Why, indeed, am I startled. This is what I desired. To create for myself out of myself. And here my phantoms have become ...
... crawled like round spiders through my brain. But elusive. They fled from me, my madness pursuing them into dark, empty corners. But now I have grown ...
... to her sides. My hand slipped between. There was warm flesh. Yes, it was flesh to my mind. And I sat for moments allowing the illusion to stir a passion ...
... die too. I am thinking of death. Mallare the egoist asks alms of death. Windows break inside me. I look out of broken windows. I am gone and away. ...
... the flames about. The street was dark. But he would come soon. He only stayed away till it grew dark. Now it was his time again. The street and ...
... What I see, hear, smell, touch is nothing. I can no longer summon my senses as witnesses. And is that unusual. I must sink to moralizings in order ...
... time and place, but, like a recalcitrant comet, it fails to enter the appointed void. Alas, I no longer remember killing her in the street. But I ...
... and quivering adjectives. It is not necessary to undress a woman to know her. She reveals herself almost as piquantly in moods. I will be the father ...
... I must make the proper pretense of graciousness and cordiality. 'But first I must identify my guest. Take his measure out of the corner of my eye and ...
... forced into an attitude of indifference in order that We may keep Ourselves intact. Thus We look down with Consummate dispassion upon Our hallucinations-Our ...
... he rushed forward with inferior regrets. He will bear study, this weeping one. Of all the sprawling Mallares, he alone lacks logic. But I will come ...
... activities. They fondled her, they tugged at his trousers. They became insane and flapped at his sides. She helped him, her eyes still watching me. 'At ...
... are an inconsistent ass,' I say. 'You were first an obvious pathologic symptom-an illusory conscience born to adorn the grief of my senses that fancied ...
... to my side. I will whisper. I am in love. Yes, do not be astonished. I am in love with her. You recall her. She was like a curtain fluttering ...