Roundup
Written byPosted on March 1, 2007
Filed Under Roundup
- Robert Birnbaum talks with Martin Amis for the fifth time. Lots of good stuff, including Amis describing how to hit the reader over the head on a character’s race.
- RIP Arthur Schlesinger, although turning Barbra Streisand on to The Economist is the least of his achievements.
- Good Man Park reports that a new issue of The Believer is out, with a Stephen Elliott essay on breaking up available online.
- Yes, screw the bloggies! Happy seven years, Quiddity!
- It’s been linked all over the place, but it’s still worth your time: ephemera from Children of Men.
- Some info on the forthcoming National album. (via LHB)
- Open Letters Monthly is now set up to review the reviewers. (via Mike Harrison)
- Michael Blowhard on the state of interviewing.
- More silly narcissism charges. I’m beginning to wonder, in light of all these allegations leveled at technology, if complaining about what others do with their lives is itself a form of narcissism. Look, someone else could be an intense Scrabble player and spend all of their spare time talking about it. But I’m not going to call them “narcissistic.” Enthusiastic, maybe. Sometimes so wrapped up in their interests that they sometimes forget to eat, sleep, or socially interact, okay. But it does not follow that these folks think about anything but their own interests. Could it be that the “Narcissism!” hues and cries are a new backlash against geeks? (via Speedy Snail)
- Good on this girl. (via Chasing Ray)
- Matthew Tiffany on What is the What: “I read a page, two maybe, at night before the words begin to dance and I drool. I haven’t been reading in traffic, or on lunch break. Then I thought that it was the subject matter; not giving me enough of an escape from the everyday. Which is absurd, because Deng in a refugee camp in Ethiopia is pretty damn far from my everyday.”
- Callie on being a writer again.
- Fuck the FBI. This is ridiculous. (via Maud)
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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.)
If in that interview Amis replaced “those feckless lit bloggers” with “5,000 words by a young guy who works at the London Review” ya’ll would be up in arms!
Dude, all due respect, but you don’t understand what they mean by narcissism. Geekiness isn’t narcissim. Obsession with a single thing isn’t narcissism.
Narcissism is essentially over-inflated self-esteem. Do you watch the poker? Howard Ledderer and Phil Helmuth are both obsessed with poker, but only Helmuth is a narcissist. At its most extreme it is very much a personality disorder in that it inhibits the ability of a person to effectively operate in the world.