robert kloss

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More Things

A few things have gone up in the last few days. First, I wrote about Moby-Dick and Melville’s importance to me for The Next Best Book Blog and that can be found here.

Next, I chatted with Matt Kish for the Paris Review and that conversation is found here.

Finally, I wrote about the five films I consider most significant to me for Enclave, and that list is located here.

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Here is an early version of a new piece from my continuing “Bestiary” collaboration with Matt Kish (and here is a link to Matt’s illustration for “Leviathan”).


None could lift Leviathan from black waters but the god who put him there. And then over time that god too did shy from the pale beast. And it was said a thousand cities each populated by a thousand men could progress within such a beast, but no man could live there, within the ocean-echoing chambers and humid mists, save that man the saint himself who was swallowed up in the shell of his ship, and now did wander the belly’s rank darkness, and now did populate the silence with his terrors, his sermons, until he too perished. So he lay, and so he dissolved, and so his man-flesh went into the greater flesh, and surely Leviathan knew him there. Few more would Leviathan ever know. For the ages passed and Leviathan moved in silence, in isolation, through waters of impossible cold and impossible depth, consuming nothing, requiring nothing, vaster than the vastest ships, white fleshed as a mountain shrouded in snow, a thousand eyes glowing with the awful radiance of a thousand lanterns. And what forgotten truths of all the days of this grim world must such a beast yet know? And what madness must perplex and grow through these secluded hours, aye, what strange thoughts must echo the mind of a creature unweighed by time? We shall never know, for no mortal or god would dare ask.

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The Revelator

Just a small note here: my second novel, The Revelator, described as a “psychologically charged western horror novel loosely based on the polygamous founder of everyone’s favorite American religion” will be published by Unnamed Press in Fall 2015.

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The Russian Journey

Last night we watched the brief documentary Glenn Gould: The Russian Journey, which is about Gould’s tour of Russia in the late 1950s and how the previously unknown Gould’s genius immediately shocked and transformed musical Russia. In the aftermath I’ve found myself thinking about what a rare beautiful thing it is to unwittingly confront an artist whose vision is so new and powerful (and how it becomes rarer each year we age) that our understanding of the possibility of art is reinvented. Doors previously unseen are opened, new doors constructed. It seems like this is the thing we should seek out and demand of our artists (and ourselves), but that impulse in our culture too seems more and more rare.



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