“Reading remains inseparable from… labial mimeticism and its vocal activity – there are texts that should only be murmured or whispered, others that we ought to be able to shout or beat time to.” -Georges Perec
(I only put up the photo because it’s irresistible!)
Yesterday I quoted Rebecca West’s 1914 essay, “The Duty of Harsh Criticism,” which was recently republished by–and, they say, will serve as the guiding principles of–The New Republic‘s new longform web literary review, The Book. The site is already packed with stuff, and you can expect to hear more about them from me in the future, but here are some starting-points for you: Isaac Chotiner explains the purpose and ethos of The Book; Michael Kimmage considers The Conservative Turn: Lionel Trilling, Whittaker Chambers, and the Lessons of Anti-Communism; Leon Wieseltier on the new Philip Roth; Tom Bissell on Elizabeth Fraterrigo’s book about Playboy; and a TNR Classic: Edmund Wilson’s “Meditations on Dostoyevsky.”
Did you know that Believer editor Andrew Leland keeps a blog? Well, since the predictive text function on this blogger page seems to remember the address I just typed into the link-maker, maybe the answer is yes. But whether you’ve been there before or not, the real question, as I see it, is have you been there lately? Don’t miss “Pure Gesture,” a recent poem, or “acting bonkers is a calmative,” which is actually from late ’08 but so?
The Guardian has an interview with Sir Frank Kermode.
Neil Genzlinger, the Times critic who last week made me so angry I held a porn contest in his name [UPDATE: and later deleted, out of a belated and therefore probably worthless attack of the common decencies, but still], is in the Book Review this weekend, considering David Thomson’s book about the significance of Psycho. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Genzlinger comes out against significance. Elsewhere in (Electric) Gray Ladyland, Jay McInerney is unimpressed by the new Joshua Ferris, Motoko Rich has an interesting piece on Kindle books that become “best-sellers” because they are being given away for free, and there’s a huge profile of Army of One (plus a handful of “co-writers” and three full-time Little, Brown employees) James Patterson.
And last but not least (except probably it is, in fact, least), Sydney [Australia] Morning Herald food critic Simon Webster uses my “Anonymous book review” piece from the most recent Believer to frame a piece of his own about restaurant reviewing. How cool is that? Webster imagines that if restaurant reviewers ate their meals without the narrative context of the restaurant/owner/hype/etc itself, “the Sydney restaurant scene would be turned on its head.” Which is what I’ve been saying it needs for years now! But seriously, thanks for the notice, Simon–it’s glad to know you, and cheers!
From Independence it’s a shit ton of miles
to the Kansas River crossing.
Child #1, Christopher, has a broken leg.
Christopher is sad he has a broken leg.
He’s like Shit, my leg hurts something awful.
He’s like Shit shit shit.
We ford the river but the river’s too deep.
We ford the river & you’re like Why
the fuck are we fording the river?
The oxen can’t breathe. The oxen can’t
breathe under water. They’re chewing
their tongues off trying to breathe.
Wendy, child #2, her face is a waterfall.
Christopher is vomiting from a fever.
He’s vomiting all over Wendy’s grave.
On the seventh day God rested.
Christopher has died of dysentery.
Gregory Sherl’s poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in New York Quarterly, Gargoyle, Columbia Poetry Review, NOÖ Journal, and PANK. He currently lives in Virginia and blogs at http://gregorysherl.blogspot.com/.
Interesting post by Chris Heavener over at Annalemma on Thursday’s Rumpus/HTMLGiant (what did we do there?) event. Of principal interest is the dialogue in the comments section between Chris and Gigantic/Rumpus New York Editor Rozalia Jovanovick. I liked this event a lot. Especially the readings given by Justin (goddamn, that story he read is so good), Tao Lin, Stephen Elliott, and Deb Olin Unferth (which will apparently appear in this year’s NOON). Yep. Thanks to my mom for the tip–seriously, my mom told me about this on the way to dinner.
For only through art can we cultivate annoyance with inessentials, powerful and exasperated reactions against ugliness, a ravenous appetite for beauty; and these are the true guardians of the soul.
– Rebecca West, “The Duty of Harsh Criticism”
the most beautiful poem
I once talked to a graffiti artist who claimed that graffiti was the purest of all the arts because it couldn’t be sold. I said, what about guerilla art galleries? What about Bansky? He said that those things weren’t true graffiti, because true graffiti changes the moment you have the power to sell it. Kid tags rail cars in Oklahoma.
Couture, on the other side of the question; art designed with great profit in mind. Chanel director/designer Karl Lagerfeld recently tweeted, “Like poetry, fashion does not state anything. It merely suggests.” This might be true enough for fashion but it’s a fairly bullshit thing to say about poetry.
This is not to disparage graffiti or high fashion. Anything that can change the way I look at a brick wall or a human foot earns my respect. (It takes a lot, as I have set ways about walls and feet.) My question: How does art change when you decide you would like to try and use it to pay your electric bill? (How would the arts change if materials costs were flipped? $350 to use the word “love” but calfskin and emeralds are free?)
Five Dials DFW tribute issue available online here. Subscribe here. Includes eulogies by George Saunders, Zadie Smith, and Don DeLillo, all of which are invaluable in one’s life. Watch Conan’s last night with The Tonight Show here. Listen to new Frightened Rabbit single here. Have a good weekend, wherever you are. I am in Alabama for a few days and it is a pretty sad place to be.
The Norman Mailer Writers Colony is pleased to announce its call for applications for the Second Annual Norman Mailer Writers Colony Fellowships at Provincetown, MA.
The Mailer Fellows have been created to honor Norman Mailer’s contributions to American culture and letters and to nurture future generations of writers. In 2009 seven Fellows spent four weeks in Provincetown, Massachusetts where they wrote, discussed their work, and were visited by writers such as Don DeLillo; editors and writers from leading publications such as the New York Review of Books and Vanity Fair.
Fiction and non-fiction writers can apply for a 28-day residency in Provincetown, Massachusetts, near Mailer’s home beginning July 5, 2010. Once again, seven Fellows will be selected. In addition, as many as 66 applicants will be offered scholarships to one week writing workshops in Provincetown during May, June, August and September, 2010. Information about the Fellowships, including an application, can be found at – http://www.nmwcolony.org/curriculumPrograms/overview/.
Applications must be received by March 13, 2009.
Matthew Simmons and Eddie Vedder are from Seattle. They are both musicians, pro-choice, and own the album Ten. Matthew Simmons, when he was in high school, identified with Jeremy, the protagonist in the song “Jeremy.” When Matthew told his mom he wanted to shoot himself in front of his class, she said “that’s a banana, dear.” Matthew Simmons’ tongue is not as long as Gene Simmons’, and neither will his career be. (Ouch.) When Pearl Jam was on SNL with Sharon Stone, Eddie professed to smelling her garments in the dressing room. I remember thinking “go pervs!” When I read Matthew Simmons’ posts here, I think “insane is okay.” Thank you Matthew Simmons for being you. I can mail you some unwashed articles for you to sniff. My B.O. Boxers in your P.O. Box — get it? Moron.
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You can preorder Scott Garson‘s American Gymnopédies from Willows Wept Press. Apparently, there are only 28 copies left. I think some of these pieces in the book appeared in Unsaid and The Collagist and elsewhere. Go to The Collagist to read a few. Go also to ArtVoice to read one. And, over at Garson’s Fictionaut page is “Houston Gymnopédie” and “D.C. Gymnopédie,” which shortly afterward appeared in Sojourn: A Journal of the Arts.
Sometimes the streets of Houston do stink, I must admit, and one of my favorite things about D.C. is the way it appears on a map.