L.A. Times Layoff Developments

L.A. Observed reports that publisher David Hiller has resigned. The site has posted his memo, which ends, “I’m sorry I won’t be here to pitch in, but I’ll be rooting for you.” Meanwhile, editor Russ Stanton announced today that editors will begin informing the 150 people who will be leaving. There is no word yet on how the books section will be affected by these layoffs, other than the previously reported merging of books reporting into the Calendar section once the Book Review/Opinion section is eliminated at the end of the month.

The State of American Literacy As Represented by Talk Show Hosts

From The Leonard Lopate Show, September 22, 2004, at the 14:04 mark on the RealAudio file, from a conversation with Terry Gross:

LOPATE: The question that people ask me the most is, “Do you read all of those books?” And I don’t know what to say. I do get help. And I usually say, “I get help.” But they don’t want to hear that. They want to believe that all I do, day and night, even on the air, is read books for tomorrow’s show.

GROSS: Well, what I say is that I read all the books. But I put — use my fingers to put quotation marks around the word “read.” ‘Cause what I do when I read the book is probably a closer approximation to skimming. ‘Cause I’m reading really fast and then slowing down for parts that I think will be relevant to the interview. And then taking notes on what I read.

LOPATE: Have you discovered that it’s ruined your personal reading? It’s hard for me to read a novel today or anything else just for pleasure. Because questions are always from it. I want to ask, “Well, Mr. Dostoevsky, why did you have Raskolnikov do that in Chapter 6?”

GROSS: That’s a really good question. You know, often, on vacations, I read — I intentionally read — a dead author. So that I’m not doing what you just said. So that I’m off the hook. So I can just read it. But this summer was one of the first vacations in a long time I did not read a whole novel. I read part of a novel. And then I found myself reading newspapers. It’s so hard not to read the newspaper right now. The newspaper itself is so interesting. And I feel like I can’t go a day without reading the newspaper. There are magazines that I wanted to catch up on. And I had to — I had to not read. I went to see one or two movies, or a movie and a concert, every day that I was on vacation. And I really felt I needed to spend a little bit of time not reading. Because I read so much.

LOPATE: When you’re putting together the questions you’re to ask, do you ever rely on those press kits? Their favorite question, which is, “Why did you write this book?”

GROSS: The part that I usually — I usually read the press releases because it’s a nice kind of frame before you start the book. When you’re reading at my pace, it’s nice to have a kind of brief overview of the book. So I’ll read reviews also. But I will intentionally not read the questions that the publisher gives. Because some of those questions are going to be good. Some of those questions are going to be questions that I would have asked anyways. But if I see those questions, it will make me think, “Well, I can’t ask that question.” Because that question has been put before me by a publicist and I’ll feel like I’m asking it because they told me to. So I feel like I can’t afford to look at it. So I’ll just, you know, do you know what I mean?

LOPATE: I know perfectly well. It’s almost a perversity, their pride that I have to do it all by myself. If I don’t want to rely on the publicity machine to tell me what to do —

GROSS: Well, you want to expect that your questions are independent of that. And yet a lot of the publicists are really smart. And they’re coming out with really good questions. So…

LOPATE: Well, they try to intrigue you into having the guest.

GROSS: Yes. So my technique is don’t read it.

The Bat Segundo Show: Andre Dubus III

Andre Dubus III appeared on The Bat Segundo Show #218. Dubus is most recently the author of The Garden of Last Days.

Condition of the Show: Plagued by decaying verdure and intrusive catering managers.

Author: Andre Dubus III

Subjects Discussed: The propinquity of Roman numerals after surnames, Richard Flanagan’s The Unknown Terrorist, Heinrich Böll, books being categorized as post-9/11 novels, on letting a book go after publication, political novels, writing longhand in cars, Tobias Wolff, the car as shared confessional experience, Flannery O’Connor, writing as a dreamworld, verisimilitude, getting an approximation of an outsider’s character or experience, “White Trees, Hammer Moon,” prison, capitalism, serial description in a declarative sentence, considering the reader, realism vs. postmodernism, self-indulgence in writing, Blaise Pascal, the dangers of the author pleasing himself, taking twenty-five years to write a novel, Dubus’s beverage motif, whether or not specific details in a novel are symbolic, the advantages that come from confined and sustained narratives, sensuality, writing in short sustained bursts, vicarious moral outrage, poems and Books on Tape, T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land, an interruption by a catering manager, Dubus’s early life bumping around, the responsibilities of a novelist, honesty, novelists who impose endings on books, fiction as a pack of lies vs. fiction as truth, Picasso, sincerity, characters who become truer than real people, and the absence of fathers and husbands in The Garden of Last Days.

EXCERPT FROM SHOW:

Correspondent: I had to remark on the beverage motif throughout this book. We open this book with, of course, April having a plastic coffee cup with her legs. And then two hundred, three hundred pages in, we see the cop with the #1 GRANDDAD mug. And then we also have Virginia heating a cold cup of coffee in the microwave. So…

Dubus: Ho ho! This is brilliant, man. (laughs)

Correspondent: But the concern for coffee in this is rather extraordinary! Because coffee is almost this life force of good versus the drinking one sees from the antagonists in this book. All the antagonists tend to drink. Or they resist drink in order to be good. And so…

Dubus: Oh, this is fascinating.

Correspondent: So there’s a certain coffee-alcohol axis I had to ask you about.

Dubus: Well, God, it just sounds like a weekend in my life.

Correspondent: (laughs)

Dubus: Drink Friday night, drink coffee on Saturday morning. Fascinating. Wow. I hadn’t even known that. Listen, I do believe that we live in our bodies. Even those of us who live very ethereally from the chin up. And I truly believe that these central details shape us and guide us. You know, I had this experience a few years ago where my wife and I had a little spat over money the first thing in the morning. My coffee was cold, gone cold during the fight. I get in the car. It hardly starts up. And I’m worried about money and can I fix this clutch. I drive off. A guy cuts me off in his truck. And I’m telling you. If that car could go fast, I’d go down the road, rip him off the truck, and beat on him.

The next day, my wife and I were fine. We weren’t having a spat. My coffee was delicious. It was the perfect cup of dark French roast. Black. That I like. And it was just the right temperature. I had a little cup, driving cup. And it wasn’t spilling. The car started up. I pull out into the word and another guy cuts me off. And this time, Ed, I said, “Go in peace, my brother. You should be careful. You might hurt someone or yourself.” I had all this good will. And it had to do with my coffee being good. (laughs)

Correspondent: But I’m wondering how this…

Dubus: This stuff isn’t unimportant?

Correspondent: It’s important. But I’m curious. You have to be aware — since there is so much coffee in this book — that you’re repeating this symbol over and over again. So readers like me say, “Well, coffee. Might be a symbol.” Or as we’re suggesting here, it may not be a symbol at all. It may just be some aspect of the world you’re drawing from that just happens to repeat itself.

Dubus: But, Ed, man, I really believe that the reader tends to know more than the writer. At least, certainly in my case.

Roundup

  • While Critical Mass continues to perpetuate its collective ego stroking, remaining silent about developments at the Los Angeles Times, LA Observed reports that the last Sunday Book Review/Opinion section will run on July 27. After that, books coverage will run in the Calendar section and on the web. To what degree this represents less book coverage remains anyone’s guess right now. But I will try to determine just what massive cuts may be in store for the LATBR and see if there’s anything I can set down on the record.
  • Geoffrey Wolff is now in the running for writing one of the most irresponsible reviews of the year. His review of Ethan Canin’s America, America appeared last Sunday in the NYTBR. I only just got around to reading the review, because I wanted to read Canin’s novel first and form my own conclusions. But I was surprised to discover that not only did Wolff fail to articulate why he hated it, but he revealed four major plot developments that occur in the last two hundred pages: (1) who Corey Sifter (the novel’s protagonist) marries (deliberately withheld during the first 300 pages), (2) and (3) the fate of two key supporting characters, and (4) Sifter’s final summation to the reader. Wolff, of course, is perfectly entitled to hate a novel and to explicate why, even if his reasons in this “review” are not very satisfactory. But it is extremely unprofessional for Wolff to spoil the book like this. Look, Geoffrey, I can’t possibly know how terrible it must be to live with the fact that you’ll never be even half as good of a writer as your brother. (And a younger brother to whit! Wow, life just isn’t fair, Geoffrey!) But your quasi-paucity of literary talent doesn’t mean that you should act like the kind of loutish asshole who spoils the ending for people standing in line for a movie. Not even I would do that for a book or a film I didn’t care for.
  • And speaking of further NYTBR disgraces, Carolyn is right to call out the broad-minded Liesl Schillinger for suggesting that Rikva Galchen’s Atmospheric Disturbances might be construed as a debut chick lit title. This is far from the first NYTBR slag. For the pigs who run this rag seem to be genuinely astonished that women can write books that aren’t chick lit or romances. Last summer, Garner couldn’t call author Jane Green a success. She was merely a “chick-lit success.” In June, Meg Cabot was nothing more than the “reigning grand dame of teenage chick lit.” Last summer, reviewer Amy Finnerty affirmed in her lede that Jill Bialosky’s The Life Room “isn’t chick lit.” And in last year’s review of David Markson’s The Last Novel, Catherine Texier bemoaned “the avalanche of historical novels, chick lit and just plain old traditional stories.” Not even the daily section has escaped these sullies. Back in April, Janet Maslin suggested that Theresa Rebeck’s debut novel “sound[ed] like the satirical version of a chick-lit premise.” What’s curious about this chick lit fixation is that it is often female reviewers who feel the need to evoke it. So I have to wonder whether it was Schillinger who inserted this ignoble categorization in her most recent review (perhaps encouraged by the editors?) or Dwight “Stag Club” Garner just couldn’t help himself.
  • As satirical covers go, the New Yorker‘s upcoming cover on Obama is a failure. While I really do believe that the time has come to declare open season upon Obama and that Americans must be challenged and offended if they continue to keep their heads in the sand, this cover doesn’t quite do it. It’s not funny, a bit unclear in its message of how Obama is perceived by the right, and not particularly sensible (but will likely sell magazines). It’s led, of course, to predictable outrage. Which means that Remnick will probably have a happy Monday morning because he successfully pushed all of your buttons.
  • A solid Disch obit from Scott Bradfield. Even more at the Los Angeles Times. (via The Other Ed)
  • And while the Other Ed is regularly crying out for the Photoshop Police, he may want to investigate this crime unearthed by Howard Junker! It even involves Francis Ford and Sofia Coppola!
  • I happen to own a copy of Cameron Crowe’s Fast Times at Ridgemont High, which I found in a used bookstore many years ago and quickly scarfed up before anybody else. The book has been out-of-print for years and goes for big dollars on eBay. But if you’re curious, the Onion‘s Tasha Robinson has illustrated the differences between book and film. (And unlike Geoffrey Wolff, she warns about spoilers.)
  • Prospect Magazine provides some good laughs this morning with this dubious list of public intellectuals. Bryan Appleyard has more.
  • Stephen Fry has some thoughts on British public broadcasting.
  • More on the death of the critic from Jay Rayner. (via Orthofer)
  • How Iain Banks came to write The Wasp Factory. (via Jenny D)
  • Power Moby Dick, an annotated version that reminds me very much of David Foster Wallace’s “Host.” (via Maud)
  • Sam Anderson on the history of hooch. Somewhat related from 2005: Luc Sante on the history of smoking.
  • And a belated goodbye to Annalee Newitz’s great column, “Techsploitation,” which is ending after nine punkass years. Annalee has moved on to i09. But her smart and irreverent riffs on technology and related issues made her column a must-read. And I can’t think of anybody who can replace her.
  • Last minute update: A Quasi show that Tito and I saw at Cafe du Nord in 2006 has been uploaded. Not the best sound quality, but you can get a good sense of the wonderfully raucous and oft anarchic performance. (via Tito)