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Read Later

Literary Views

  • Sam Allingham on Thomas Bernhard:
    "What seems always to be neglected, amongst this sea of praise for the author’s supposed hatred for all the things of this world, is what one might call the softer side of Bernhard: the side which incurable misanthropes, thinking they have found a brother with which to hurl rage and bile at the horrors of this world, might easily miss. There is beauty in Thomas Bernhard, if you are willing to look for it, and sadness. Not despair, mind you, or aesthetic perfection; not intellectualization thereof, but the genuine article. There is even love, of a difficult kind, in the sense of love for a place in which you can no longer live, love for a homeland that has harmed you, and which you love deeply without ever quite forgiving. . . ."
  • George Murray:
    "New book blogs emerged in the years between the rise and fall of Bookninja. Many of them are local, genre or concept specific, offering a specificity we couldn’t match. The big newspapers and magazines started blogs of their own, a few of which were actually good. Most of these seem to rely on longer-form writing, whereas Bookninja relied on links and jokes. Still, people seemed to be reading these more and more. Book blogs no longer have to beg publishers for attention; publicists now actively court blogs — the multi-city book tour has been replaced by the multi-site “blog tour.” Bookninja was still well-read, but it wasn’t really 'needed' like it once was. The void it had filled was no longer a void. . . ."
  • Miriam Burstein:
    ". . .the novel's drive towards fragmentation is, by this point in the postmodern historical novel's development, too predictable. Legend falls apart under close consideration; news at 11? Trawls through the archives reveal only more linguistic constructs? Subjectivity may intrude on the historian's point of view? Haven't we been told this already--and often?. . . ."
  • Algis Valiunas:
    ". . .Neither response does justice to the cursed poets of nineteenth-century France, men whose verse did so much to shape modern literature. Truth be told, one finds it difficult to sort out the injuries that others inflicted upon them, and those they caused to themselves. Verlaine’s inborn predisposition to alcoholism and the monstrous things he did while drunk; Rimbaud’s abandonment by his father when he was six and his blasphemous rages against the Father who indifferently permits his children’s suffering: It would take a bourgeois moralizer of the old school to condemn these men unequivocally for what they made of their lives, considering what they were given. . . ."
  • Robert Archambeau:
    "But if ["The Lake Isle of Innisfree"] contains a kind of nationalism, and an implicit statement that the poet's place and duty lie back among his own people, it's a funny kind of nationalism. The plan for life at Innisfree, after all, is a plan of isolation — or more than that: of an almost Robinson Crusoe-like self-sufficiency, with the poet building his own dwelling and raising his own food in autonomous isolation. Is this nationalism or individualism? Political commitment or individual withdrawal?. . . "
  • Harris Feinsod (Arcade):
    "You hardly need to be a digital humanities proselyte to suggest that in the age of Google Books, the modern anthology should be re-conceptualized for the screen. It could be made contractable or expandable at readerly or pedagogical imperative. It need not any longer be organized by movement, nor by the "neutral" chronology of the poet's birth. . .It need not come in under 656 pages. And if any poet garners a few more virtual "pages" than another, this should have no business constituting poetry criticism. . . ."
  • Special feature in Jacket2 on the work of Rachel Blau DuPlessis:
    "In the labyrinthine spirit of [DuPlessis's] *Drafts*, the essays gathered here provide interweaving, overlapping points of entry into the poems. Vectors, swarming. There is no school of RBD as such, either poetical or scholarly, yet many of us have studied there all the same. . . ."
  • Chad Post:
    "The reason I bring this up is because it’s worth wondering if the Big Six are in this publishing game for the benefit of book culture as a whole, or to make as much money as possible for their shareholders. The correct answer is the latter, and that’s reflected in nearly every decision they make. As a result, people like Richard Russo and Stephen King publish their books with Random House and Simon & Schuster so that they can reap the benefits of these corporate practices. Namely, Russo and King get way more cash and reach way more readers by being part of this system. They’re also not motivated by 'doing the right thing for book culture' but by trying to maximize their impact, relevance, and earnings. . . ."
  • From an interview with Georgi Gospodinov (link via The Literary Saloon):
    "Fortunately, Natural Novel was published in almost all European languages and I met a lot of people in cities around Europe. Yes, we must admit that they read more than us. But the attitude of media towards literature there is completely different. The biggest and most widespread newspapers there are not tabloids. This is a paradox, I know. Such newspapers have more than 100 pages and are published on weekends, and they have around 30 pages set aside for culture with very vast and serious articles. In these countries the media dictate the values of the people. If you tell me one Bulgarian daily, which publishes serious analyses of literature, ballet, cinema, opera, or has a message from a writer, musician, or another artist on its front page, I would be very happy, but unfortunately there is no such one. . . ."
  • Rohan Maitzen:
    "Curiosity-driven research can hardly, in consistency, be made compulsory. But I don’t think that means they have no value (why should my interests and preferences be the arbiter?), and I wouldn’t want to propose (as [Mark]Bauerlein certainly implies) that 'saturation' means 'completion'–what would it mean to be finished studying something? how could we ever be sure we have found out everything there is to know? 'We can no longer pretend … that studies of Emily Dickinson are as needed today,' Bauerlein proclaims, but how can he know this? There’s some irony in his relying on simple quantity of research to decide there’s nothing of interest or value left to be said. . . ."

Literary News

  • New York Times:
    "Ms. O’Brien and Ms. Newberg had cannily circumvented what many authors see as a modern publishing scourge — Nielsen BookScan, the subscription service that tracks book sales and is at the fingertips of every agent, editor and publisher — with a centuries-old trick, the nom de plume."
  • R.I.P Barney Rosset
  • Putin's canon.
  • Salon:"
    "So far, the world has been denied access to Salinger’s legendary hoard of unpublished works and his estate (which legally consists of his widow and son) has refused to acknowledge even the existence of the mysterious manuscripts, much less offer any hope that they will be made available to an anxious reading public. In all likelihood, that decision relies upon Salinger’s last will and testament, the contents of which are rumored to contain a clause requesting that the author’s family wait a number of years before publishing anything new, if only to forestall Salinger’s own fans from dancing on his grave. . . ."
  • Scholars liberated from the James Joyce estate.

Notable Reviews

  • Pamela Erens on Dan Chaon's Stay Awake:
    "Dan Chaon is a writer for those of us who thought we’d left genre behind. Sure, contemporary writers such as Michael Chabon, Jonathan Lethem, and Colson Whitehead import genre conventions into their literary fiction, but my guess is that their most avid readers tend to be those who never lost their taste for the detective story, the thriller, or the futuristic drama, stories in which character generally takes a back seat to magic and adventure. You may read Chabon or Lethem for their powers of invention and their remarkable sentences, but you don’t read them for richly nuanced characterization. . . ."
  • Sam Sacks on Pascal Mercier's Perlmann's Silence
    "To a philosopher, a novel is a vessel for ideas, and the shape of the vessel matters little so long as all the ideas get in. But to a novelist, a novel is the philosophy; its style and form embody the author's search for truth, and its readers join the search, bringing along their own insights and interpretations. In Mr. Mercier's fiction, readers are supposed to be attentive listeners—and just as in a Perlmann seminar, some of them may have a hard time staying interested. . . ."
  • Bill Marx on Jonathan Lethem's The Ecstasy of Influence:
    "For all of his claims to being a subversive termite, Lethem the puffy white elephant appears more often, trudging down a much safer, much happier road: leave the negativity to the snotty aristocrats — democracy is about the acceptance of all, discrimination distorts the disorder. For Lethem, there is no real need to argue for standards or criticize the mediocre: let a thousand canons Bloom he puns at one point. Sorting things out are bad for business. . . ."
  • A.S. Byatt on Umberto Eco's The Prague Cemetery:
    "There is no powerful narrative engine – the reader gets lost among unhappenings and untruths. The atmosphere is fusty and coagulated. Unreal blood is spilt by the undead. This is a scorpion of a novel. It waves its pincers with menace and is about things that could really hurt. But I am always surprised by dead scorpions, which are papery shells with no blood or soft tissue. This novel is a bit like that."
  • Donna Stonecipher on Joshua Harmon’s Le Spleen de Poughkeepsie (Rain Taxi):
    "[William] Morris answered critics who called beauty morally suspect and mere decoration by making a case for beauty as in fact deeply moral, a means by which workers and craftspeople since the dawn of time have brought pleasure to their labor. While the speaker of Le Spleen de Poughkeepsie catalogues the ugliness in Poughkeepsie with a righteousness that has something of this moral fire about it, the book is rendered more problematic—and more interesting—by moments in which he acknowledges that aesthetics might, finally, reveal itself to possess no moral component at all, and that beauty can be as adaptable (and as opportunistic) as the starlings that nest in a neon O at the strip mall. . . ."
  • Daisy Fried on SOMETHING URGENT I HAVE TO SAY TO YOU: The Life and Works of William Carlos Williams by Herbert Leibowitz:
    "Leibowitz knows his way around sonics and syntax. But he frequently treats poems merely as windows through which a poet’s life can be viewed. In a chapter called 'Poetry as Biographical Evidence,' Leibowitz writes, 'The biographer can’t overlook the examples, sometimes blatant and sometimes disguised, of poets projecting their unconscious feelings on personae.' Elsewhere, he says Williams 'routinely played slyboots with the reader or squirreled away embarrassing items about his conduct in obscure hiding places.' Leibowitz seems to think that poets deploy their poems primarily as evidence for biography. . . ."
  • Christian House on Millhauser's We Others:
    "Millhauser's fiction is a genre all of its own: part Stephen King, part Roald Dahl, part Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Like fantasies, dreams and nightmares, these tales are touchstones to the bizarre, unknowable nature of human existence and our capacity for imagination. Through narratives of disruption, they place a mirror to the face of civility, chipping away at the veneer of everyday constructs and respectable behaviour. Millhauser, in the terminology of the barnstorming conjuror, has pulled off a great reveal: that in our desire for escapism we highlight how tethered we are to human insecurity."
  • Sam Sacks on The Angel Esmerelda:
    "That sensation of floating, of being isolated from the welter of modern life in a condition of psychological standby, appears in every story in 'The Angel Esmeralda,' though the sensation is elsewhere described differently. One narrator calls it "dreaming space," another 'a floating fever dream'; another character is said to live 'inside a pause.' To DeLillo, these are prayer-like states (the man in 'Creation' calls it 'remote-controlled rapture'), and the stories here are a reminder that his literary innovation was not just to describe contemporary estrangement but, by likening technology to religion, to give that estrangement an oddly spiritual origin. . . ."
  • Scott Esposito on Sergio Chejfec's My Two Worlds:
    "Chejfec's publisher, Open Letter Books, has perhaps unwisely permitted this to be the first of Chejfec's twelve works to appear in English. I say unwisely because this book, Chejfec's latest in Spanish, is clearly a sort of summation and distillation of the decades of hard thought since (and undoubtedly before) he published his first book in 1990. Its daunting intelligence and clipped language create a situation of near-hermeticism that begs for some point of entrance. Whereas Spanish-language readers of Chejfec might turn to one of his earlier, surely less-perfected works, we who lack access to Chejfec's Spanish works (or cannot read them) must turn to writers to whom we do have access, such as Sebald. . . ."
  • Courtney Fiske on Ha Jin's Nanjing Requiem:
    "Sparse and unadorned, [Jin's] prose refuses to call attention to itself. Jin’s angles are rarely oblique, and his economy of words feels almost utilitarian: his is a concern with precision, honesty, and direct description. This predilection for confronting the facts head-on, no matter how macabre, inflects Jin’s writing with a bluntness that borders on brutality. Neither Jin nor his characters are prone to romanticize, and their worlds afford scant space for sentiment. . . ."

THE READING EXPERIENCE: THE BOOK

  • Click here for information about the book-length adaptation of the original TRE.

Fiction by Daniel Green