Some fine writing by the one and only J.A. Tyler now lives on my little online book concern, Happy Cobra Books. You should go read it.
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Blake Butler—
One of the major reasons I love Infinite Jest is that it seems like it was written by an extremely intelligent alien; someone trying so intricately and direly to figure out humans and so utterly, utterly failing.
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Roxane Gay—
Longshot Magazine (formerly 48 Hours Magazine), has announced the theme of their next issue. You have 24 hours (Deadline: 3PM EST 7/30) to submit something about debt. Details here.
ETA: And just like that, the issue has been published. Check it out.
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Visualizing Modernism: Angle /1/ The Human Presence
[O]ur whole knowledge of art is at bottom illusory, seeing that as mere knowers we can never be fused with that essential spirit, at the same time creator and spectator, who has prepared the comedy of art for his own edification. Only as the genius in the act of creation merges with the primal architect of the cosmos can he truly know something of the eternal essence of art. For in that condition he resembles the uncanny fairy tale image which is able to see itself by turning its eyes. He is at once subject and object, poet, actor, and audience.
-Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy (1872) — from Chapter V
James Abbott McNeill Whistler - Nocturne in Blue and Green (1870)
!!!
Holy shit, this package of hot dogs can be resealed! Using an exclamation point here seems like overdoing it. But on the other hand, including the word “Resealable” itself is redundant because the red line on the back of the packaging, that plastic zipper, says it all. That plastic zipper is a word that says, “Resealable.” But maybe it says that for people looking at the package online. Because OMFG, BallPark has an awesome website.
What do exclamation points do for you? I love them. Take Mairéad Byrne’s poem “How to Say Thanks When You Mean It But Don’t Really Have Time Right Now,” which goes, simply, “Thnaks!” — using an exclamation point means never having to spell things right. I use exclamation points because I think they tell the recipient of my email how excited I am to be emailing them, and how excited I am that they are alive.
Too Many Of Us, Too Much Noise
Over on the Versal blog, one of the editors (Megan M. Garr) talks about the impossible economics of publishing a literary magazine and there’s a great discussion taking place in the comments. Money and literary magazines–there are no easy answers. The whole post is worth reading. After a conversation with some strategy consultants, he writes:
They were appalled by some of the cliches we throw around every day. Like, writers are poor. Like, people submit to journals they’ve never read. Like, bookstores buy the journal at a 40% discount. Like, bookstores don’t even buy it, they just take it on consignment.
I was floating after that meeting. I took a breath, got some perspective, confirmation that we navigate somewhat crazy waters here, that we model ourselves after the socialist university mags or the utopian zines but we’re actually crashing against regular-old capitalist realities. So of course our survival has become rather freaktified and precarious.
Everything I’ve read so far this year with brief notes
When Marina Abramović Dies: A Biography by James Westcott * * * Read a lot of this in a bathtub where it was cold out and the tub was warm after Scott McClanahan suggested I’d like it; I did like it; reading about her life dedicated to making these insane performances seemed really motivating, and that time can be put to good use over periods. I like to think about the phases of her life.
The Last Samurai by Helen DeWitt * * * * Had tried to read this before and lost the book before I got really going; it has such an insanely beautifully orchestrated opening section, one of the sharpest I’ve read in a while, while still having narrative; she does a lot in this book that seems like nothing I’ve seen elsewhere, orchestrated almost entirely around the relationship between a mother and son; loved.
Termite Parade by Joshua Mohr * * * * Really liked the sections about the conceptual video project in this book; he has a good edge to his voice, a good mix of action and idea; looking forward to his next one in the trilogy, Damascus.
The Loser by Thomas Bernhard * * * * Different for Bernhard in a way; really enjoyed reading about Glenn Gould and the two minds of the friends there in their jealousy of his mastery; suicide is always compelling to read about; the last page of this book wins it.
The Book of Lazarus by Richard Grossman * * * * Reading this book felt insane, like being locked up in a cabinet or something; I like thick books that have pages that move quickly, like you are swimming.
Stop Doing This
Stop titling your stories, “What We _____ About When We _____ About ______.”
Seriously, stop it.
This is the literary equivalent of putting a bird on it. (If you don’t get that reference, please stop what you’re doing and go catch up with this joke. Ok. Thanks. Hi.) Using the “What We ______ About When We ______ About ______” title is no longer even an homage to Carver’s story and story collection, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. I don’t know what anyone is even trying to accomplish by re-using that title anymore. If I was still reading slush for a magazine I would automatically delete any entries with this kind of title. All a title like that says to me is this piece was written by a lazy pseudo-hipster.
Dennis Cooper & Keith Mayerson’s Horror Hospital Unplugged
Finally the gorgeous and psionic (and previously OOP) graphic novel Horror Hospital Unplugged, written by Dennis Cooper and illustrated by Keith Mayerson, has been rereleased by Harper Perennial. “If Antonin Artaud and Keith Haring took the wrong drugs and collaborated on a kids cartoon show.” Wish I could plaster the walls of my house all over.
More excerpts available at DC’s blog, as well as in the ‘look inside the book’ feature on Amazon.