- I refuse to mention the chain by name. But I’m wondering how much this ostensible tale of redemption is undermined by the [Insert Corporation Here] Saved My Life rap. Color me decidedly skeptical. But it would seem to me that this gentleman’s recalibration of his priorities changed his life and not necessarily the chain in question. I am finding, of late, more problems with causative thought (i.e., X caused Y) applied to everyday scenarios. Even people who are much smarter than me seem convinced that they can find correlations without accounting for all the factors that make up a scenario. (And I, by no means, abjure myself from engaging in this fallacy in thinking.) I am wondering why this has grown more acceptable in the United States.
- Mark Thwaite interviews Tom McCarthy.
- Dan Green on litblogs and serious criticism. I fully agree that the perceived “chatty” quality of litblogs is as broad a brush as declaring all print reviews “stodgy.” Nevertheless, Dan is correct to suggest that litblogs should continue to offer more in the way of “serious criticism,” whatever this might mean. With this in mind, I’m hoping to offer a few more long-form posts very soon.
- Chandler writing The Long Goodbye. (via Bill Peschel)
- To proclaim rather reductively that “style should serve to strengthen the author’s message” is to lose sight of the fact that life is ambiguous. If art reflects life, should art not likewise be served in a baroque manner from time to time? (In other words, I can’t abide such childish generalizations about Martin Amis’s work.)
- There are currently too many errands to run. I’ll try to check in later. But don’t forget that, here in New York, tonight is the Columbia panel.
Roundup
– September 18, 2007Posted in: Roundup
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (