You might think of my novel as a short book composed entirely of a long book’s quotable passages. Where stolen words are concealed within the body of the narrative. Writers are magpies. The prior visions of other poems are, for a true poet, as powerful as his own dreams and as formative as his domestic childhood. A man will turn over a library to make one book. Skim off the cream of other men’s wits, pick the choice flowers of their tilled gardens. Reassembling fragments of pre-existing images in such a way as to form a new image. Art is theft: the singularity of thievery.
Jeremy Gavron’s novel, Felix Culpa, is a detective story composed mostly of fragments taken from one hundred other works of literature. This is a type of remix or collage that I’ve not encountered before; a sort of intentional, full-throttle plagiarism of words in order to create something new.