In the current Believer: Nick Hornby and David Simon. Next up: Garrison Keillor and David Mamet, where the latter will ask the former why he can’t say “fuck,” much less any word, with anything approaching cheerful conviction. (via Pinky’s Paperhaus)
Take it from this Gibson reader, Mr. Asher. It was certainly a terrible job. “Inhabitants?” Uh, there was only one character in Pattern Recognition allergic to trademarks. The Times regrets the error.
You can see just about anything — however illusory — when banging out a generalization-laden essay.
James Wood is the most feared man in American letters? Get real. He’s a mere nitpicking titmouse. To be afraid of Wood is like having minor chest pains while passing the Grey Poupon from one Rolls Royce to another. If such a perception is even half-true, then the time has come for the literary world to get the wind knocked out of its too comfy constituency.
Emdashes has collected a helpful list of stories that first appeared in The New Yorker. My vote: John Cheever’s “The Swimmer.” I doubt very highly that anything as remarkably inventive as that story will ever appear in Remnick’s pages.
Believe it or not, there was a time in Dwight Garner’s career when he wasn’t a corporate tool. Case in point: this highly entertaining John Updike interview from 1996 that even has Updike revealing his feelings about Nicholson Baker, even if Garner can barely contain his antipathy for John Barth.
The Guardian reveals the longlist for this year’s First Book Award.
BODY: You are getting very sleepy. ME: Okay, I will try to sleep now. But where were you a few hours ago? BODY: Waiting for you to stop thinking. Was it necessary to look at all those YouTube clips of things resembling amateur cooking shows? ME: I can’t help it if the brain keeps going! I’m just naturally curious. BODY: We’re a service industry, you know. ME: A service industry of one! I have to get up in a few hours! BODY: Oh, you can hack it. Jesus, you’re neurotic about all this. You shouldn’t have taken a nap. ME: You were the one who hijacked ontological operations! BODY: You are getting very sleepy! ME: Thanks, body. Thanks a lot.
Did you get my email? I meant “not a a single word” in relation to the recent Todd McFarlane discussion. No one has mentioned the great revisionist/contemporary take on OZ that Illusive Arts is already doing.
Maybe I wasn’t clear – but I think I was. I opened with McFarlane after all and then went on about how I’ve written about Dorothy of Oz in the past.
I’ll add the words “last week” again so any confusion about my intent is put to rest.
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. (Bat Segundo interview)
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. (Bat Segundo interview)
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. (Bat Segundo interview)
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. (
Did you get my email? I meant “not a a single word” in relation to the recent Todd McFarlane discussion. No one has mentioned the great revisionist/contemporary take on OZ that Illusive Arts is already doing.
Maybe I wasn’t clear – but I think I was. I opened with McFarlane after all and then went on about how I’ve written about Dorothy of Oz in the past.
I’ll add the words “last week” again so any confusion about my intent is put to rest.
Later…………
I took a Comedy Writing class taught by Garrison Keillor, and he says ‘fuck’ quite frequently.
Oh, I missed that “with anything approaching cheerful conviction” was attached to the fuck-saying. Reading comprehension, hello?
Ed can you think of anyone more feared than Woods? This is an honest question, I’m curious.