“Their wedding night was in all truth a thing of beauty: the splendor of the celebrations, the hushed intimacy of a private walk under the cryptic light of a large moon, the unexpected delight discovered in the reflection of a… — Robert Coover Copy Share Image
Metafiction says something. It has to do with taking a large fiction itself and writing within it; that kind of self-reflecting writing that emerges… — Robert Coover Copy Share Image
I see no reason to stop writing. But the reason isn't always one of your own. The mind is not invulnerable, and it can… — Robert Coover Copy Share Image
If you start thinking about the kids being born now, for them the computer is ancient history. So one imagines that when children think of it as the only place to be, because there isn't anywhere else, then the geniuses of those generations will find their way into doing something that is impressive and as good as a Shakespeare or… — Robert Coover Copy Share
“Black holes are the seductive dragons of the universe, outwardly quiescent yet violent at the heart, uncanny, hostile, primeval, emitting a negative radiance that draws all toward them, gobbling up all who come too close. Once having entered the tumultuous orbit of a black hole, nothing can break away from its passionate but fatal embrace. Though cons of teasing play… — Robert Coover Copy Share
“I nearly drownded on the Big River back home, but I didn't. Instead, I come to love the river, though the river never loved… — Robert Coover Copy Share Image
There's no need to inundate the world with books and language. It's just too full already. There's so much rubbish hiding in the world.… — Robert Coover Copy Share Image
“Oh, he shouldn't be surprised, he's a Marxist and has nothing but contempt for the bourgeois capitalist press, yet paradoxically he is also somehow an Americanist and a believer in Science and Freedom and History and Reason, and it dismays him to see cruelty politely concealed in data, madness taken for granted and even honored, truth buried away and rotting… — Robert Coover Copy Share
“Why we write. Because art blows life into the lifeless, death into the deathless. Because art's lie is preferable, in truth, to life's beautiful terror. Because as time does not pass (nothing, as Beckett tells us, passes) it passes the time. Because Death, our mirthless master, is somehow amused by epitaphs. Because epitaphs well struck give Death, our vorcious master,… — Robert Coover Copy Share
What I saw quite clearly in the '80s, before the internet, was that the whole world was shifting toward digital formats, and that didn't matter whether it's movies or writing or whatever. It was something that was coming. And with the invention of the World Wide Web in the early '90s, when we were teaching our first courses, or the… — Robert Coover Copy Share
Some ways of naming a generation are fruitful and some are not. Postmodernism is not. It doesn't really say anything. — Robert Coover Copy Share Image
