Jeff VanderMeer is reporting that J.G. Ballard is dead. If that last sentence doesn’t cause your heart to sink to your feet, then get thee to a bookstore or a library and check the man’s work out immediately. Ballard was one of the greats: an imaginative giant, a profoundly erudite iconoclast, one of those rare talents who came up with a warped concept that needed to be wild while providing the speculative heft needed to keep a thought experiment going. And I hope to have more to say about the man as soon as I can collect my thoughts more coherently.
[UPDATE: Joanne McNeil, Jacket Copy, the AP, Tributes from the Guardian, even Gawker and Entertainment Weekly. But nothing from the New York Times or the Washington Post, who I presume are both too vanilla to appreciate a genius.]
[UPDATE 2: The New York Times and the Washington Post merely ran the AP obit off the wires. So John Updike gets independent coverage. But Ballard, being a mere "speculative" writer, does not.]
Being Wrong by Kathryn Schulz: Being wrong, as it turns out, isn't just the other variable in a binary opposition. Indeed, the relationship between our beliefs and the vast body of knowledge is one of humanity's big problems, but, at times, one of its great virtues. This thoughtful volume outlines numerous examples of human folly, from end-of-the-world prophets to ocular misperception, and makes a strong case for becoming more transparent about human fallibility, even when the results can be quite deadly. (
The Invisible Bridge by Julie Orrigner: This sweeping epic, which has been rightly identified in some corners as a "Holocaust page turner," puts to rest any and all rumors that the historical novel is dead. Orringer's great talent for balancing fine Romantic details, a vigorous synthesis of prewar Paris and Magyar strife, and Nazi brutality demonstrates a remarkable evolution from her previous short story collection, How to Breathe Underwater, and makes this a must read. (
If I Loved You, I Would Tell You This by Robin Black: Forget Wells Tower. Robin Black's marvelous short story collection, which has been needlessly ignored by The New York Times and The Washington Post, is very much on the level: far better than anything written by that lumbering Young Turk. These subtle stories have the maturity to avoid belabored metaphors and neat conclusions, revealing numerous nuances about the human condition in its careful use of understated language. (
RIP
Ballard was pretty much ignored in the Toronto dailies.
Nothing in the Globe, less than 500 words in the Star (tucked away in a ‘Briefs’ section). The Post had something a bit longer on their website.
The NYT published a story today. Pretty good obit.