William T. Vollmann
Europe Central is a notable work by William T. Vollmann, a novelist, essayist, journalist, short story writer, and photographer who is a citizen of the United States.
Vollmann was born on July 28, 1959, in Los Angeles. He studied at Deep Springs College and later at Cornell University. Over the course of his career he has worked across a wide range of forms — novels, short stories, essays, and journalism — and has also served as a war correspondent. He works in the English language.
Vollmann won the 2005 National Book Award for Fiction, the highest recognition listed among his achievements. Europe Central stands as the notable work associated with his name, and that award marks a concrete point of distinction in his career as a novelist and short story writer.
Quotes by William T. Vollmann
I think that we're all, as human beings, so limited. If we want to write about ourselves, that's fairly easy. And if we write about our friends or our families, we can do that. But if we want to project ourselves somewhere beyond our personal experience, we're going to fail unless we get that experience or we borrow it from others.
What is a woman to me? The answer must be: A projection. Who is projecting, and for what reason, I cannot necessarily know from the performance itself. Mr. Umewaka and Mr. Mikata do not when playing their feminine roles feel themselves to be women; they strive, as I so often in my wonderment repeat, to be nothing; yet when they enact women I see them as women. Meanwhile the psyche within a male body which mechanically performs itself as such may see itself as female.
All that’s happened is inconsequential; it cannot hurt us anymore; there’s only music, which lives within us and beyond us, needing us to express it but capable of surviving forever between expressions.
23 He dreamed that a bomb was singing to him. From far away, the bomb was coming to marry him. The bomb was his destiny, falling on him, screaming.
At least I hope – that the fiction I’ve written so far has flaws but has mostly been successful.
When it comes to revolutionaries, trust only the sad ones. The enthusiastic ones are the oppressors of tomorrow.
Most literary critics agree that fiction cannot be reduced to mere falsehood. Well-crafted protagonists come to life, pornography causes orgasms, and the pretense that life is what we want it to be may conceivably bring about the desired condition. Hence.
Luck, like life itself, is no certain thing, but a loveliness which may alight upon my shoulder but more often seems to be some unknown brilliant quantity in motion.