One doesn't like to boast but I may have just given birth to a conception that may lift literature from the quagmire that threatens to drown it in its sprawling tentacles of negation. My idea literally turns the idea of the novel on its head. When one picks up this projected novel, or book, all will seem as normal. However, when one opens this tome to see what lies inside one discovers that the writing is upside down. To read it, one will have to either turn oneself or else the book in the desired direction, depending on preference and perhaps utilitarian spatial considerations whereby the turning of oneself upside down is or isn't feasible.
As one reads the work and its intrinsic subject matter, one will be in a constant state of bemused astonishment that one is reading an upside down book. This will naturally lead to all sorts of implications regarding reality, perception and the like, though I can't pretend to as yet have any idea what these implications might be. This will keep the critics busy for centuries.
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One interpretation: because images are projected onto our eyes upside-down at first, and our brains from birth have to learn to invert the image again, in order to see properly, you would in effect be reversing one of our primal conditioning habits. Whether this results in madness or truth, who can say?
Not I, but it's surely worth a gamble. If it alleviates boredom. then surely noone can have any complaints.
Indeed, that's an excellent argument in favour of madness and truth.
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