- Maud Newton is looking for your questions in what appears to be a very interesting conversation between Colson Whitehead and Calvin Baker on “branding & freedom in the market economy.”
- Levi Asher offers a report on the Kevin Kline production of King Lear.
- M. John Harrison: “So what is the function of the novelist ? Not to fellate the audience in the hope of delivering a more acceptable product.”
- The Independent conducts a five-minute interview with Edward Rutherfurd. Hmm, reminds me of Mr. Sarvas’ format.
- Dina Horwedel observes that despite Hispanic literature’s popularity, it’s not being incorporated very efficiently in high schools and college curriculums.
- Here’s an update on the Marshall Public Library imbroglio: Fun Home and Blankets will remain on the shelves. (via Is listening to writers discuss their works high-minded? (via Bookninja)
- Tod Goldberg unearths some misogynistic book promotion. (via Bill Peschel)
- Where is our Orwell? Where is our Dickens? Henry Porter seems to think that novelists who are indicting government and society are in short supply these days. It’s a fair enough charge, but what he doesn’t realize is that any time Harold Pinter opens his mouth, thanks to a secret and well-funded organization that I cannot name, a memo is sent to all English language novelists reminding them of the pointlessness of novelists preaching to the converted and suggesting that these sorts of predictable fulminations are best addressed through the prism of fiction.
- Those hoping to read a confessional book written by Madonna’s nanny will be disappointed by this recent news. The book’s been canceled by Crown, but whether this book has been muzzled by Madge’s litigious fervor is anyone’s guess.
- A “grown-up” music festival is being planned. We’ll have none of your drinking or your pot smoking or your Bic lighter waving, thank you very much. This is serious business. You will sit there and listen to Bjork and you shall not cheer! There shall be no audience participation, save silence! And the only food served in the booths will be saltine crackers and lima beans.
- In celebration of Free Comic Book Day, Fantagraphics will be offering a Peanuts comic book for free. There will be no football pulled on this offer, which you can take up at your local comic book store on May 5.
- Never underestimate Ohio journalists. A scab working for the Toledo Blade found his car scorched, with a cinder block thrown through the window.
- Also at Editor and Publisher, it appears that Helen Thomas has her front seat again in the White House press room. Or does she? A White House memo reveals, “The White House, however, will continue to determine seating assignments for all presidential news conferences.” I’m wondering if this is intended as a quid pro quo of sorts.
- I missed Julia Klein’s interesting take on Finn in this Sunday’s L.A. Times, but Klein’s review also offers an interesting summation of works that turn minor literary characters into starring roles. (Thanks, Quill and Quire, for the reminder!)
- Ron Silliman offers a lengthy take on the late Ed Dorn.
- Paul Collins unearths a unique comic book cover from 1944.
Mad Props
ZeFrank’s last installment of The Show. Thanks, Ze, for a year of fun.
Must Rethink This Digging a Hole to China Idea
If I dig a very deep hole, where I go to stop? Hundreds of miles off the tip of South Africa in my case. (via Speedysnail)
Sarah Lyall Summarized
LONDON, March 18 — Lionel Shriver has written a new novel, The Post-Birthday World. But you don’t need to know about that, even though the book is one of the best of the year. What really counts is that Ms. Shriver looks younger than her 49 years and is quite a piece of ass. We here at the New York Times wouldn’t say any of this things if Ms. Shriver were male (which we confess, we initially thought she was, Lionel being one of those gender-neutral names), but we’re more content to judge Ms. Shriver for her appearance than for her literary achievements. Never mind that she won the Whitbread Book of the Year.
Slight, wry, precise in bending over and with the air and appearance of someone who might be good in bed, Ms. Shriver makes no excuses for our tendency to ogle and makes none now. “Why are you getting out the measuring tape?” she said recently, as we tried to get her measurements in her apartment in South London. “It’s obviously a ploy, but I don’t think it’s an obligation for a profile. Have you even read my book?”
Well, no, we hadn’t.
What makes our maneuvers so interesting is that Shriver’s publicists thought that this would be a great idea. We tried to get her to pose naked for our photographer and she refused.
“But we’re with the New York Times!” we said.
“Yes, and I’m doing my best to humor you and put up with your inane questions.”
“Surely, they’re not that inane.”
“I paid my dues. I did not write a novel at 21 and it sells a million copies and everybody thinks I’m brilliant and I’m on TV.”
“Can we use that?”
“Only if you go away.”
A Right to an Author
Being a Burgess freak, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point to Jenny D’s enchanting summation of the Anthony Burgess biography authored by Andrew Biswell (as yet unavailable in the States and as yet now beckoning hard for an Amazon UK purchase, along with Richard Gwyn’s second novel). Jenny’s inspiration comes from this fascinating article, which describes how a failed author named John Burgess Wilson went to Malyasia and became Anthony Burgess.