“A neck cannot be modern. A neck is in time, belongs to time, but is not formed by it. My guess is that even photos of Neanderthal necks would not differ significantly… [They are] in a certain sense, pure nature. Something that grows in a certain place, the way tree trunks grow, or mussels, fungi, moss.” Recommended reading: Karl Ove Knausgaard on the sanctity of bodies, the nature of truth, and the back of the neck. The third volume of Knausgaard’s bestselling My Struggle hit American bookshelves last week. (Check out our own review of Knausgaard’s previous volumes.)
Brooklyn Poets caught up with Danniel Schoonebeek in order to discuss one of his poems, hear about his idea of “a good day,” and take his recommendations for places to read, write, and explore in Brooklyn. I’ll tell you this much: the man knows how to pick a good happy hour.