Description
A book that “starts nowhere, does nothing, then ends…”, Elegy tries and fails to make peace, tries and fails to blame, to make sense… of how they got from there to here, then to now. A book of elision, it is the result of a couple years of a shared document, honesty and biography getting fictionalized through the intrusions and inclusions of each of the authors upon the other, with each of them uncertain in some cases just who wrote what. Narrative but plotless, a meditation that realizes it doesn’t need to tell you anything, but it makes some sounds and digs some holes, hoping to trip you, and perhaps keep you, for a bit while it tells you anyway.
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