by William S. Burroughs
Literature was hijacked along with everything else in the middle of the twentieth century by mavericks who were convinced they could do everything better. William S. Burroughs was one of them, and while he remains a famous name his work is more anonymous than what was produced by his contemporaries. Naked Lunch will be my attempt to see if this makes any sense. I can't remember who was ultimately responsible for my adding this to my library and subsequently Reading List, but it occurred while I was working at a bookstore, and that just figures. If nothing else that's what Burroughs is all about.