For all of The Atlantic‘s candor, it still doesn’t explain why the current double issue would include not one, but two takes on high-profile translations (the former a swell introspective look on Don Quixote, the latter another smug collection of Christopher Hitchens intonations), while saving the remaining lengthy slot for Dr. Laura’s new book. While influential polemicists certainly do warrant a serious look, we can’t help but wonder if The Atlantic is preaching to the converted or contemplate why The Atlantic would dwell upon a polemicist that has, it would seem to us, had her day. Despite the long, long, long (did we mention long?), blustery essays on Iraq, one involving hawkish apologia, both of which hurt our heads to varying degrees, we believe The Atlantic‘s readers are not likely to find solace in a hateful crank. Nor do we believe that hi/lo dichotomies are necessarily the order of the day. The current object, it would seem to us, is guided more by mitosis. To the point where it has us now using that dreaded first person plural, which use we reserve only when drunk, half-awake, or otherwise devoid of our ten senses.
Month / January 2004
And Here I Was Remembering My Top Ramen Days
There are hard sacrifices to becoming a novelist. For Elizabeth Robinson, they were even harder. “She was down to cutting out the luxury of household mineral water,” reports the Chicago Tribune. (via Moorish Girl)
The Crimson Reader and the White
I’m a little late to the party, but I’ll concur that The Crimson Petal and the White is a darn good read. If, like me, you were jaded by Quicksilver or underwhelmed by The Wolves of the Calla, and if, like me, you’re obsessed with reading longass novels, then you may want to give it a shot. A sizable chunk was serialized in The Guardian, so beta testers are advised to bolt there. Hostlers are waiting.
Funny, Because Their Idea of Foundation is Skin-Based (In More Ways Than One)
Dong Resin’s Letter to the Middle Class: “Did I ever mention that the foundation of a society is it’s lowliest workers? Probably not such a great idea to let that crumble like you have, but then there’s lots of cool cheap shit at Wal Mart, so it balances out. You’ll see! It’s not so bad. Did you know you can get a DVD player for $40?! You can’t get medicine for $40, but you can damn sure get motherfucking DVD players, which are almost as good.”
Bright Lights, Big Menu
I was going to pull some second-person take on Jay McInerney as New York Times restaurant critic. But, dammit, Liz Spiers beat me to it.
Kate DiCamillo has won the Newberry this year for The Tale of Despereaux. The book concerns a mouse who falls in love with a princess, which is a story that (in all seriousness) I’m likely to get behind. In her early days, DiCamillo collected more than 470 rejection letters, which shows not only that persistence pays off, but that it probably kills a lot of trees in the process.
Monotori Kishi’s Misshitsu, a comic book depicting gonads and, well, a lot of sex, has been ruled obscene in Japan. The obscenity precedent was laid down in 1957 with a Japanese translation of Lady Chatterley’s Lover.
Meanwhile, here at home, the Supreme Court has said no to an appeal in the Tony Twist/McFarlane battle.
Marginalia and Other Crimes shows library book damages in all their sad glory. (via Maud, who’s now back from her trip in Florida).
And, damn, Spalding Gray is missing. (via Bookslut)