n+1: A Worthless Rag
Written byPosted on March 13, 2007
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Garth at The Millions has some choice words to say about an “essay” that appeared in Issue 5 of n + 1, attacking litblogs. I’ve read the article in question.
Let me just say that I’m not against third parties taking litblogs to task. In fact, informed criticism is a healthy manner of keeping the conversation alive. What I object to is an uninformed statement that goes after any target without using supporting examples. n + 1, with this essay and the adolescent posturing seen in “The Decivilizing Process” has cemented its status as a worthless publication that is intellectually unfit to stand up against The Believer. I’ll confess that it took me a few years to warm up to The Believer, but, after a shaky start, it seems to be turning a corner, expanding its scope, penetrating more obscure and darker pastures and offering all manner of helpful reference points for the curious within its articles. Sure, The Believer still has a bit of a naive sense of wonder attached, and I’m not sure if its play-nice review coverage is entirely honest. But I’ve read the March 2007 issue of The Believer and greatly enjoyed this quirky article on Roberto Bolaño and Stephen Elliott’s lengthy essay, which is one of the most candid essays I’ve seen in The Believer’s pages.
n + 1, by contrast, is nothing more than hollow posturing. More noise than signal. It believes that risk can be found through poorly thought out statements of outrage. It dabbles in masturbation, literally and figuratively, in a manner reminiscent of obnoxious liberal arts majors with too much time on their hands. Take this excerpt:
At one point the feminist writer Lonnie Barbach even suggested that men’s propensity to ejaculate before their female partners had achieved orgasm was the result not of selfishness but of an oppressive anti-masturbatory regime that taught boys to come as quickly as possible so as to avoid detection by their parents and schoolmasters.
Now to me, regardless of whether I agree with this or not, Barbach’s is an interesting idea. And a good essayist would address the current masturbation situation, either though specific quotes or interviews, or attempt to examine why Barbach drew this association. But instead of trying to place this Barbach paraphrase into context, or to even consider Barbach’s premise at face value, this assertion is followed up with these sentences: “Now this—this was solidarity. Masturbation had achieved the height of its moral prestige.”
$12 for this nonsense? For generalizations more content to waltz around an idea rather than plunge into it?
Why pay $12 when I can have some starry-eyed undergraduate hand me some pamphlet laced with this kind of doggerel for free?
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Books To Jump Up and Down Over
Beyond Heaving Bosoms by Sarah Wendell and Candy Tan. The famed writers behind Smart Bitches, Trashy Books have written a very funny and thoughtful volume about romances, both Old Skool and New Skool. Here is a book that any smug and humorless literary manboy beating his flabby passive chest over Banville or Bolano should probably read pronto, if only for the distant possibility that he might get over himself. While the Choose Your Own Adventure segment at the end caused me to have a very disturbing dream involving Shelley Long (don't ask), Sarah and Candy did have me rethinking many of my own misperceptions when I wasn't busy laughing. They're not afraid to take on the New York Times Bok Review or even the groupthink within certain sectors of the romance community.
Alice Fantastic by Maggie Estep. This wild and highly enjoyable narrative involves two sisters (presumably, the third one was still being rented out by Chekhov), a hippie ex-junkie mother who lives with seventeen dogs, a murder, gambling, and libidinous Hollywood actresses who live in Woodstock. But this is the wonderful Maggie Estep we're talking here. And what seems at first like a quirky yarn becomes something unexpectedly moving about connectivity. What I love about Estep's work is the way that she'll juxtapose an extremely astute observation (now that you mention it, why do cab drivers always have somebody to talk with on the phone past midnight?) with an often outrageous story development.
Generosity by Richard Powers. It doesn't come out until September 29th, but Richard Powers's latest will have anyone committed to books reconsidering their literary fervor. I foresee some animosity from the vanilla critics hostile to idea-driven novels, but book bloggers, YouTube chroniclers, and MFAs would do well to plunge into this chance-taking narrative, which introduces vital questions about what the reader's relationship is with media, scientific dissection, and "creative nonfiction." Are we rats fleeing to happy cities? Or can we find the humanism within the purported plague?
Pieces for the Left Hand by J. Robert Lennon. Lennon is one of the most underrated fiction writers working today. Much as On the Night Plain proved that Lennon had a lot more in the toolbox than heartfelt (and often very funny) suburban satire, this slim but fascinating volume juxtaposes 100 small-town anecdotes -- arranged by category -- in a manner that reads, at times, like Nicholson Baker's passions for minutiae and, at other times, Stewart O'Nan's concern for psychological detail. The result is fiction that makes us wonder about whether one person's subjective view of particulars can entirely be trusted. This book never found a publisher in 2005. But thankfully, Graywolf has released it in the United States, along with Lennon's latest novel, The Castle.
Wonderful World by Javier Calvo. This wonderfully raucous volume has been completely ignored by the Washington Post, the New York Times, and the Los Angeles Times. But it's probably one of the most delightful reading experiences I've had this year. Calvo cavalierly mashes up multiple genres and manages to mix up familial subtext with larger-than-life, almost cartoonish characters. (Indeed, one might argue that one mobster's penis is a character of its own in this sprawling novel.). This is not an easy thing to pull off, but Calvo makes it work. And it's helped immeasurably by Mara Faye Lethem's idiom-specific translation. (See longer post.)
The Means of Reproduction, Michelle Goldberg This thoughtful book tackles the complicated (and little discussed) subject of reproductive rights from numerous angles, which includes a number of unpleasant but necessary ones. The upshot is that there isn't a quick fix solution for declining birth rates and fundamentalist abuses. Just about every political faction has contributed to the friction. But you'll want to read this book anyway to refamiliarize yourself with the topic, but also to understand just what's occurred during the past several decades to get us where we are today. (See also podcast interview with Goldberg.)
Okay, Ed. Now you are officially freaking me out. I read the Fresan on Bolano piece last night and posted about it this morning. Have you tapped into my brainwaves? Hopped into me via many mice who travel from SF to LA?
Love it though and I think “quirky” is a wonderful way to describe it.
As for n+1, Heidi Julavits’ face said it all at her recent LA reading. When asked about n+1 vis-a-vis The Believer, her face wrinkled up, her lips curled and she gave the questioner a death stare…if ever so briefly. She then regained compusure and went on to say something about it being good that The Believer has opened the door for other publications to offer their version of critical work…and so on. It was VERY clear the Julavits didn’t find n+1 to be on par with The Believer.