Thanks to Julia Prosser, here is what I’ve been able to find out about Nicholson Baker’s Human Smoke. There is not yet a subtitle to this 800 page opus, but the book is described as “a meticulously researched, astonishingly new perspective of the political, social, religious, and economic events throughout the world in the years preceding World War II—an invaluable work of nonfiction and an impassioned, persuasive call for pacifism.”
The book’s editor is Sarah Hochman, who has also edited the German writer Maxim Biller.
The release that I have also describes it as “a unique, deeply moving indictment of the treasured myths that have romanticized much of the 1930s and ‘40s—and a testament to non-violence and pacifism that applies as much to our own age as to any other.”
It also describes Human Smoke as “weav[ing] together the events and individuals that unnecessarily enabled or prolonged the irreparable damages of the war, including hundreds of often-overlooked facts, quotes, and articles that were frequently published in The New York Times, TIME, and countless other sources, which have been easily accessible to readers for generations.”
So yeah, I’d say that we might be seeing a good deal of that Baker-like precision here. The big question is just what specific elements Baker will be looking into to support his thesis for pacifism.
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (
I can’t wait. Baker seems to get more ambitious with each book, and this sounds like the capper.
Amazon also has a stub page stub page that gives the release date as March 2008.
Which makes news of this book doubly intriguing (and I was already pretty damn well intrigued). Thanks for the update, Ed.
Ah, I was commenting on Ed’s big question when Levi slipped in.
Wow. I wasn’t at all interested in the question of what Baker’s new book was going to be (I loved both Mezzanine and U and I, but Vox was irritating, and I don’t follow him closely) when you first blogged about trying to find out. But this sounds fascinating.