I just finished the novella form of Ideal and really loved it. I think one of the best aspects of it is LP’s introduction and the more elaborate Johnnie Dawes letter.
A brief excerpt:
“That for which I’d give—happily—all of the life I may have, to the last day, they forget so easily for the sake of what they call living. That which they call living—I couldn’t stand one moment of it, not one second. What are they? Are they muddled, halfhearted, unfinished creatures, a riddle with but one answer: lies? Or are they the sane, the real, the must-be, while I’m only a distorted freak that should not be allowed to exist?”
