Roundup (2 of 2)
Written byPosted on November 29, 2006
Filed Under Roundup
- Pitchfork talks with Tom Waits. (via Anecdotal Evidence)
- I wonder what the ACLU will have to say about Jesse Jackson’s politically correct fascism. Guess we’ll have to remove Faulkner & Co. from the libraries. Has it ever occurred to Jackson that racial slurs might be used against racism?
- Margaret Atwood, cartoonist. (via Bill Peschel)
- The Whitbread shortlists have been announced. (And dammit, I’m calling it Whitbread. I can’t bring myself to associate a literary award that reminds me of a certain smug NBC commentator from the 1980s.)
- Matthew Tiffany reveals what he read in 2006. I’m going to attempt a similar list at year’s end, if I can.
- Congratulations!
- The 7 Worst Fonts (via Books, Words & Writing)
- John Freeman reveals The Page 99 Rule. It involves something like this: If a book looks interesting, flip to Page 99. If Page 99 doesn’t grab you, go to Page 33. If Page 33 doesn’t grab you, read Page 66 upside down with a stopwatch. If you are not compelled to turn the book right-side within 30 seconds, then the book is not worth your time. Sell it to a used bookstore. Failing that, toss it in the fireplace. Failing that, consider the paper as an exotic garnish to go with your beans and rice dinner. (This latter element of the rule assumes that you cannot afford so much as parsley and is ill-advised for those who maintain strict diets, either by choice, allergens, or financial necessity.)
- Robin Quivers has declared Seinfeld racist and The Corsair raises an eyebrow.
- Finally, and this has nothing to do with literature, the endless onslaught of Xmas music at nearly every public location has me contemplating heading for the hills and settling in a shack with an arsenal of canned food and shotguns. And it isn’t even December yet. Is it too much to ask the shops, restaurants, and other assorted places to turn off this damn racket? Who, pray tell, are the people who groove to this cheery nonsense? Particularly as it is portrayed by the likes of Neil Diamond, Barry Manilow and Madonna. I have tried my best to inure myself to it, but I am likely to become a Scrooge sooner than required. Might some kind soul with loads of spare time offer a comprehensive list of places one can settle where Xmas music doesn’t pollute the auditory meatii? Surely, I cannot be alone.
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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.)
Christmas trees are already for sale (corner of 97th/Bway on the Upper West Side.) It’s not even December yet!!!!
I can’t stand X-mas music anymore. Just the sound of it makes me shudder.
Thanks, Ed. I must say that I love Neil Diamond *and* Christmas music. If you want to record your share and send it to me, I’ll enjoy it on your behalf. Have a holly, jolly…
I petted a dog for three hours straight one time. Vince Guaraldi’s “Christmas Time Is Here” was on a continuous loop. The usefulness of Christmas music is that it’s uplifting, if you can delude yourself enough into believing the stupid fucking shit that is being sung.
edward, edward, edward
mightn’t you try @ least The Kinks’ “Fr. Christmas” ?
you can’t have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat.