Brandon Brown talks "dream lit" and offers an eloquent and engaging read of Diana Hamilton's *The Awful Truth* over at Entropy. A short excerpt from the end of the piece is appended below. Thank you to Brandon and Diana for the positive dreams....
If the two halves of The Awful Truth constitute a diptych in their relationship to each other, and loosely allegorize the relationship of dreamer to the text they make from their dreams, inside each there is enormous variation, movement, contradiction, digression, and wonder. It is a work full of study, intellect, humor, and pathos. Hamilton has done something very difficult in showing the results of her extensive research without the moronic professionalization of academic writing or the anti-intellectual airlock of philosophical systems.
It is a common understanding that dreams are terrible literature. “Tell a dream, lose a reader,” Henry James warned. And yet I was never lost reading this book. It hearkens so much to worlds both familiar and unreachable. By studying how the dream futilely signifies—and energetically provokes—the emergence of abundant nothingness, and likewise how the awful world we make, and share, bears down on the dreaming body like the succubus in Goya’s “Nightmare,” The Awful Truth models how we might continue to write against these sentences on our possible futures.
The racist prison state might not crumble based on what we make. But those conditions, gruesomely clinical in their affiliation to knowledge, power, and truth, are passionate enemies of the dream. The only proper thing for us to do, from the perspective of capital, is to get up, pee, have coffee, hurry off to work. Leave the pages of the dream journal blank, they will only distract us. To which, I say, with Hamilton, fuck that. We want to write. We want to feel better. This book will help us.
Read the whole review [here].