Bøker av Marco Vassi

There is no better introduction to the world of Marco Vassi than his autobiography,The Stoned Apocalypse, a stirring and sensual work that is both unflinchingly honest and erotically charged. Did the sixties happen so Vassi could exist, or did Vassi define the decade? His journey across the country at the moment when the Woodstock generation was discarding conventionsand clothesis an allegory of sexual liberation. If you loved Jack Kerouac'sOn the Roadyou will thrill toThe Stoned Apocalypseand you will be ready to take on Vassi's mind blowing novels.

'Constance was a quick minded woman, twenty seven years old, a freelance writer who had begun to make a reputation among some of the more solid publications. She had a wide ranging intelligence, and her pieces covered everything from Middle East politics to new tendencies in American religious thought. Her latest interest had been in something that most people consider a dead issue: the white slave trade.'But in one of Marco Vassi's most daring novels, Constance is about to learn that it is very much alive, vibrant even, and her experiences will turn professional conflict into personal turmoil. ';Have a pleasant experience.'

';She had turned twenty nine that week before, and on midnight of the day itself had burst into tears because Martin had not called. She knew he wouldn't and really didn't want him to, but part of her still clung to certain primitive sentiments, or what used to be called girlish ways. Now she smiled wryly at the memory, wondering how long it would take to forget him completely, simultaneously sad at the realization that such a time might indeed come. For Julia Gordis evening had always been the most beautiful part of the day.'

';It was to have been a casual affair of impersonal intensity. We both had an unencumbered summer before us, and were thinking what a pleasure it would be to have a bedmate for the season, someone sophisticated, someone who would curl up and fall away easily when the leaves began to turn in the autumn. We decided to spend the summer on Fire Island. The child was conceived. And then the hatred began.'See what happens when a young man surrenders himself to sexual exploration as a means of looking deeply into his own existence and into the philosophical void at the center of Western civilization.

';Larry felt something he hadnt experienced for yearsthe sharp clutch of jealousy twisting his stomach. In all the years they'd been together, he'd never doubted Eleanor's fidelity in the slightest.'In this striking, startling novel, Vassi turns his talent to a tale that blends Zen and jealous passion into a suspenseful, erotically charged thriller. For Larry, he wonders if the evidence of his wife's supposed infidelity is real, or a hallucination produced by his own meditations . . . and inner fears. It all builds to a shattering climax that reexamines the idea of life, death, and sex.

In this ribald, titillating, exciting book, Marco Vassi exposes the human animal in all its absurdity. He spares no one and nothing in his ironic X ray of our exalted obsessions. Capturing the sizzling vitality of our current erotic upheaval while grasping its peculiar pretensions, Vassi creates a gallery of unforgettable characters who are only ourselves in a form larger than life. In these nineteen stories, Vassi turns erotic literature inside out, unraveling the seams of our most secret fantasies. The Erotic Comedies offers a mere taste of what awaits readers in his full length novels.

';Her mouth went dry. From one standpoint, the job wasn't much, but from another, it was like salvation. In her state of confusion and fatigue, the job seemed heaven sent, and Lou like an angel. He watched her carefully. ';Frankly,' he went on, ';if you want to sell your talent and your time, you must be aware I'm interested in more than your literary skills.' He had paused for a long moment and then added, ';Perhaps we can continue this interview at my apartment later.' Her face flushed. Not only because of the openness of his request, but because she felt a strange tingle of excitement.'Who is this man? Is he the face of the devil, or the taunt of temptation?

';They had their words and their deeds; and the relationship between the two functions of their being formed the pattern of the lives. They sought the eternal through the passage of time, and searched for love in the rubric of sex. They huddled beneath their private solutions to the vast problems of their age until they saw that history was a director that used them ruthlessly and without asking permission to include them in its its play.'I must not succumb . . . she thought.