(This entry is not suitable for kids or anyone who is easily offended by graphic depictions of sexuality and violence. Also, if you just ate, you might want to give this one a pass.)
It is National Day today and I am afraid I have a social responsibility to be socially irresponsible with my sharings tonight.
Tonight, we look at transgressive fiction, a branch of postmodern fiction that provides shelter to the cocaine-cloud street saints of the Beat movement in the 21st century. It is the haven for the Marquis de Sade’s sexual extravagance, with extra space for the perversions that accompanies the age of internet porn. It is Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment overdosing on the liberal fucks of 21st century linguistics.
Transgressive fiction is the realm of the taboo, of the things society dare not speak of. It is not Star Wars or The Land Before Time. Its intention is neither to entertain nor inspire. It seeks to discomfort the reader, while allowing the writer some platform to sneak in social commentary.
In today’s literary world, transgressive fiction is most commonly associated with Chuck Palahniuk. Some self-professed Chuck Palahniuk fans I have met only know of Fight Club, which is equivalent to being an Obama fan and only knowing that he advocates Change. Palahniuk’s works are seat-edge rides to the edge of human psychology, and it is unfortunate that not all of them have been made into movies starring Brad Pitt.
Okay now that we have set the background, I present to you Guts, a short story by Chuck Palahniuk. Before you click the link below, you may want to hold on to something. Things are going to get pretty sick from here on out.
http://chuckpalahniuk.net/features/shorts/guts
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