![]() ![]() Get your stuff out of the street and come in.” On the third day … still there, and Tyler goes down and just tells mister angel, “Come in. And his clothes are still in the gutter. ![]() Tyler says he’s going to call the police if the guy won’t leave. ![]() Then, six hours later, Tyler goes out and says he’s sorry, but no. The next day, the guy is still there, and Tyler goes out to go, “I’m sorry.” Tyler says he’s sorry he told the guy about training, but the guy is really too young, and would he please just go. Come back in a couple years and apply again. After lunch, I go out and beat mister angel with a broom and kick the guy’s sack into the gutter and scream. ![]() So I tell mister angel he’s too young, but at lunchtime he’s still there. You tell the applicant to go away, and if his resolve is so strong that he waits at the entrance without food or shelter or encouragement for three days, then and only then can he enter and begin the training. Black, he’s too black.” / This is how Buddhist temples have tested applicants going back for bah-zillion years, Tyler says. “If the applicant is young, we tell him he’s too young. “He’s too young.” / I ask how young is too young? / “It doesn’t matter,” Tyler says. Sample: “Get rid of him,” Tyler tells me. TL DR: A good book that reads like a B-movie: the narrator is a trash-can consciousness which gains a bit of substance, despite himself, by the end – the novel’s aesthetic victories feel hollow. Finished copy borrowed from the local library. ![]()
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