A review by chalicotherex
The Conspiracy by Paul Nizan, Walter Benjamin, Quintin Hoare

1.0

Happy that that piece of shit Bernard killed himself.

Sartre, who was such a friend of the author that they used to call them Nitre and Sarzan, writes an introduction citing "(Nizan's) fine style, taut and casual: his long Cartesian sentences, which sink in the middle as though no longer able to sustain themselves, but all at once spring up again to finish high in the air". It's a good description, as long as you don't think of it as praise. Though I read this in translation, so what do I know?