Time Is the Thing a Body Moves Through


W. G. Sebald meets Maggie Nelson in an autobiographical narrative of embodiment, visual art, history, and loss.

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“Time, bodies, beads, boys, butts, butterscotch, tops, bottoms, high-brow, low-brow, Boy Brow™, hormones, Grindr, Scruff, sculptures, Squirt!, doors, metaphors, dancerless go go poles, the essence of ice, metronormativity (what a word), and phew, the moon—just a few of the labels and phenomena Fleischmann engages with as they explore the weirdness of bodies. The result is a wandering hybrid of many beautiful things: queer theory, memoir, poetic verse, and lit crit. Fans of Maggie Nelson will adore this and laugh and think and cry. Fans of Hilton Als, Susan Sontag, and Eileen Myles will all find solstice, too. To label it a queer narrative would go against its conceit, but definitely give it to the queer writer/thinker/dreamer in your life. Not a book for the faint of heart—but definitely the loving your heart needs.”

– Mason

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How do the bodies we inhabit affect our relationship with art? How does art affect our relationship to our bodies? T Fleischmann uses Felix Gonzáles-Torres’s artworks—piles of candy, stacks of paper, puzzles—as a path through questions of love and loss, violence and rejuvenation, gender and sexuality. From the back porches of Buffalo, to the galleries of New York and L.A., to farmhouses of rural Tennessee, the artworks act as still points, sites for reflection situated in lived experience. Fleischmann combines serious engagement with warmth and clarity of prose, reveling in the experiences and pleasures of art and the body, identity and community.

Time Is the Thing a Body Moves Through