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Don Mee Choi’s THE MORNING NEWS IS EXCITING
I’ve been feeling disappointed in books lately. Whereas I’ve encountered many well-written books, they’ve lacked something—a politic, perhaps, or maybe something as simple as a point. I’ve found myself reading half a book, losing interest, the well-crafted sentence not enough to compel me to completion. But then, yesterday, as I was rushing out the door to go to a dentist appointment, I remembered this book that Johannes Goransson had sent me, a new Action Book, and I thought maybe this would be different. And it was.
Don Mee Choi’s The Morning News is Exciting is perhaps one of the most exciting books I’ve read recently. A collection of poetry or prose or prose poetry or poetic prose, whatever, genre is so passé these days, Choi’s book challenges not only genre but also the politics of colonialism, post-colonialism, empire, and identity. As cutting as it is tender, as angry as it is intelligent, this is not a book for the faint-hearted reader.
Choi was born in South Korea, below the 38th parallel—I know all about the politics of an invisible arbitrary line dividing a country, for Vietnam, my parents tell me story after story about the power of the 17th parallel—though she left South Korea as a child, moved to Hong Kong, then the US. This is all very important. Unlike me, she has experienced the “homeland.” She knows the geography, how it’s changed. As a second generation immigrant, I hear stories, and when I finally visited Vietnam, it was nothing like Choi’s return to Korea. I have no frame of reference, no way of seeing how colonialism, imperialism, and war have changed the geography—both the physical and the human landscapes—I know only the US, and although sure I’m talking about two very different countries with different histories, the influence of colonialism, imperialism, and war display the same results:
I arrive below the 38th parallel. Everyone and every place I know are below the waist of a nation. Before I arrive, empire arrived, that is to say empire is great. I follow its geography. From a distance the waist below looks like any other small rural village of winding alleys and traditional tile-roofed houses surrounded by rice paddies, vegetable fields, and mountains. It reminded me of home, that is to say this is my home.
Close up: clubs, restaurants, souvenir and clothing stores with signs in English, that is to say English has arrived before me and was here even before I had left. PAPA SAN, LOVE SHOP, POP’S, COLDEN TAILOR, PAWN. I followed the signs and they led to one of the gates to Camp Stanley, a heliport, that is to say language is not to be believed but to be obeyed, and to compel obedience. A woman in her seventies lived next to LOVE SHOP. She was taking an afternoon nap. She has never left below the waist and eventually came to be regarded as a great patriot by her government, that is to say she followed the signs and suffered from lice infestation during the war and passed the lice on to GIs. (15)
I love this passage not just because I find resonance in my own life. The power in this passage comes from the return to home, only to find home changed—something we can all understand, as we watch industry grow around us, often without us—and then there is the issue of translation between what is and what is, that yes, it reminded of her home AND it was her home, or the old woman was a great patriot AND she suffered. If I were smarter here, I’d talk about signs and signifiers, but my Derrida is too rusty to make any coherent point. I would like to point out, however, that throughout the story-poems in this collection, Choi co-opts theory. In the passage above, the italics are from Deleuze and Guattari. She also quotes Freud and the New York Times and Emily Dickenson and Marx, among many others. That is to say, on the exterior, it may look like she’s just playing around, but really, she’s throwing punches and I think my jaw may be broken.
In “A Journey from Neocolony to Colony,” Choi describes this doubling of self, that her narrator, upon leaving South Korea, created a second self, a twin, who could stay behind, while she left to Hong Kong. That way, there would always be connection to home.
My message to you:
You are gone. Please come. I have your comb. I know homesickness. It unfolds like Mother’s umbrella. I dress your paper dolls, the penciled closet. I pace the bridge, your hair pin in my hair. The river is muddy. I unfold arms and take off my shoes I am none. Please come. I have your comb. Be low. Be no. Say no to dinner and fog.
Your message to me:
Forgetting is lovely and Father’s well is bottomless. Freud says: the way in which national tradition and the individual’s childhood memories are formed might turn out to be entirely analogous. Indeed, a higher authority can shift the aim of the resistance to memory. Madness may be a form of resistance. Forgetting is lovely and Father’s well is bottomless. In order to remember an incident painful to national feeling, a lower psychic agency must resist the higher authority. However, it is against the Law. Tea and false memories. Which is lovelier? Colony or neocolony? The shift in aim is minor. Forget something then remember something else. The loveliest of all is the unconscious—it is lively. In defense of nation’s paramnesia, tea must be served at all times. Migration, my nation! The family in the distance must be oceans apart. Closeness may lead to nationalism. Follow orderly obsessions. Wash and clean when in doubt. Scrub the edges of your memory. Childhood loneliness can shift its aim. Nation’s loneliness is false category. Be fraud. Be Law. (83-4)
And in all the discussion of politics, let’s not forget to applaud the poetry and language play. From “The Morning News is Exciting”:
Twin twin twin zone. Cameraman, run to my twin twin zone. A girl’s exile excels beyond excess. Essence excels exile. Something happens to the wanted girl. Nothing happens to the unwanted girl. The morning news is exciting. Excessive exile exceeds analysis. Psychosis my psychosis. Psychosis her psychosis. Pill her and pill her and file her and exile her and pill her and pill her till axis and boxes and sexes. (27)
Choi’s The Morning News is Exciting blends provocative politics with urgent writing, it moves beyond the pretty sentence, it is a book with purpose, with a point. Now, I’m not arguing that books need to be political, but reading Choi’s collection was satisfying, and it was more than just satisfying, it excited me with insight.
But don’t just take my word for it: Blake also posted about it a couple months ago here. And I’ll echo Blake that Action Books is publishing some phenomenal work. Choi’s book is just one of many. So yeah, good job Joyelle and Johannes. Please, keep on publishing! We love you for it.
The question isn’t whether the book is good or not. The question is, does it rip you apart at an atomic level and then put you back together so that you are stronger, better than before? Because if it doesn’t do that then what’s the point.
No where in this review did I say the book was “good.” In fact, my only use of the word “good” was to applaud the publishers for a job well done. And yes, I would say this book “ripped me apart on an atomic level and then put me back together” etc.
Dood… all these superlatives. Every day. Really?
Does any book actually do that? I don’t understand. Maybe you’re talking about LSD, not books?
Below, Steven wrote: “Dood… all these superlatives. Every day. Really?” I’m not sure what he’s referring to exactly, but I agree with the general sentiment. It seems like “art ppl” are hyperbolic a lot. It seems deceptive or willfully misleading or something. It makes me want to tell people “get real” and shit.
Maybe meant “mad hyperbolic” instead of “hyperbolic a lot.”
Yes.
From an essay by Dodie Bellamy:
“Summer, 2004, I went with Kevin to see Fahrenheit 9/11. As I left the theater, still trembling with emotion, we ran into the poet Chris Stroffolino, and we all stood there in the wide, carpeted hallway of the Metreon here in San Francisco and chatted about the film. When Chris suggested that satire always leans to the left, he and Kevin launched into a hearty debate about that, with Kevin bringing up Swift, and Chris grabbing onto Swift and running with it. Afterwards I was troubled. Instead of responding to Michael Moore’s images of torn bodies and the profound sense of loss the film provokes, we’d moved on to the comfortable abstraction of literary terminology, the safe cultural and temporal distances of Swift. To perform as serious intellectuals we feel twin pressures to appreciate Moore’s film but also to distance ourselves from it and to critique it. We cannot appear to have descended to the level of his ever present wailing mothers, where the body takes over and we revert to the preverbal, the primal—raw with screaming, a being spasms with the abject horrors of capitalism’s carnage.”
…I feel a little abt the direction this comment thread already looks like it’s headed as Dodie did abt that conversation abt satire.
It feels live a diversion from the fantastic guts of Lily’s review, re: both politics and aesthetics.
imagine this: there are nice things to talk about in the world.
like puppies, blow jobs and ice cream. I know. But imagine this: standards re: Art
something in the air today. i think adam’s poster below this post is the real culprit, when we are comparing the reading of words (its all just words -lish) to the feeling of an atomic explosion, its like the hyperbole to end all hyperboles. it used to bother me a lot before but im getting more used to it around here. is there a fundamental reason why independent press titles are so susceptible to exaggerated lavs? is it like we are trying to make up for a feeling that something is not getting as much attention as we think it deserves? i dont know. its okay to love though, certainly. but if all you’re doing is loving everything, dont expect me to take you too seriously.
perform as serious intellectuals
That wasn’t a serious response.
Wait. The response I was responding to is…. gone. Ah, the joys of debating a point with a guy who owns the “delete” button.
yes, no person actually has an innate desire to think about anything, so if you are voicing a thought that seems too complex or too distanced, it can only be for the sake making yourself seem smarter to those around you. the only real response to anything is visceral.
i think you’re being a little absolutist, and maybe facetious. i dont think this is always true, but there’s some truth there. it has to do with your environment and what you have to lose or gain from it.
good job guys, you “seem” smarter to me now. keep it up.
cool!
i’ll debate you something. what do you want to debate. im bored today.
… do you have a “delete” button…?
nope
Thanks for this review, Lily! Such an astounding collection. & I agree, really satisfying to read. I love, too, the way the playfulness in the language works like a calling out–exposes the way language masquerades as a funny little tool, a kooky little puzzle, when actually it’s the stuff of life & death. & yeah, kudos to Action for encouraging the book!
No hyperbole there.
seriousness though, this post made me want to buy this book. thanks lily.
Would that mean it did more than MOVE you?
I just got done reading the new David Mitchell. It literally sucked the soul out of my body, had it stripped and re-finished. It’s the kind of book that makes you not only proud to be a fucking human being, but proud to be a member of a solar system that makes it possible to be a fucking human being so that you can experience books like this that remind you of how great being a fucking human being can be. While reading the book I shuddered, then collapsed, came to, had a grand mal seizure, swallowed my own foam, levitated, and went into complete cardiac arrest. Definitely a defining moment in my existence, as well as a highlight in the existence of all of my ancestors. Someone needs to use this book to stop the leaky BP faucet. It is that powerful. So powerful that you could send it back in time to kill Hitler. David Mitchell has direct access to the voice of God. Tonight, as I lay down to sleep, I will pray to David Mitchell. This book broke my heart, made me go schitz, gave me a stroke, and caused me to have a three minute orgasm. If you read one book in your lifetime make sure it is the new David Mitchell, and then, when you are done, light yourself on fire and jump from the roof of a tall building, because you’re never going to read a book as good as this again.
you mean the thousand autumns book? i’ll have to read that one.
So you’d give it a three out of a possible five stars, then?
The question isn’t whether the book is good or not. The question is, does it rip you apart at an atomic level and then put you back together so that you are stronger, better than before? Because if it doesn’t do that then what’s the point.
(“Fucking human being” via DFW? http://www.google.com/search?q=“fucking+human+being”)
This seems like a weird response to the “critique” of hyperbole posed in this thread. (It seems like a very impoverished critique, if it is that.) What are you doing here… You’re parodying what is perceived as your position in order to make people feel stupid for having interpreted your comment “too literally” or something? You said what you said, man. I dunno. If you didn’t “mean it that way,” then tell us what you meant. Your follow-up comment doesn’t seem very helpful for “advancing the discussion” or even illustrating your position. I dunno. It’s whatever, though, I guess.
Maybe this link will work: http://www.google.com/search?q=%93fucking+human+being%94
Damn.
No where in this review did I say the book was “good.” In fact, my only use of the word “good” was to applaud the publishers for a job well done. And yes, I would say this book “ripped me apart on an atomic level and then put me back together” etc.
is there a ‘debate’ button
Dood… all these superlatives. Every day. Really?
Actually read Danielle’s comment as “satirical.” Guess it isn’t. Damn.
lily’s post wasnt even that hyperbolic, really, compared to other things. I think VC just decided to pick a fight for the sake of.
but im interested in the discussion and is why im maybe contributing to the unfortunate hi-jacking of this thread a little. if hyperbole is something to pump your fist against, is absolute literalism the alternative? i mean even “intellectual criticism” can only ever boil down to your opinion, so so what if my opinion is that i would like to have an orgy with my book. i do. so i’m telling you is all. is this a war in favor of being simply as literal as possible. i think that extreme would be stranger, or duller, like robots. i just had in image in my head: robots with fangs. fangs like vampire fangs but on robots. someone should put that in a nickelodeon cartoon.
i wish
also, the fang robots are like an army or them and they patrol the streets of suburbs. people who live there have to pay a little bit higher taxes. the army sometimes kills squirrels accidently.
“if hyperbole is something to pump your fist against…”
That’s a hyperbolic reading of this critique of the hyperbole. Hyperbole is the fancy word for “hype”, yes? When is hype good? When you want to sell lots of Coke Zero. Does “hype” work as a default critical stance? Only the first few times.
Does any book actually do that? I don’t understand. Maybe you’re talking about LSD, not books?
Below, Steven wrote: “Dood… all these superlatives. Every day. Really?” I’m not sure what he’s referring to exactly, but I agree with the general sentiment. It seems like “art ppl” are hyperbolic a lot. It seems deceptive or willfully misleading or something. It makes me want to tell people “get real” and shit.
Maybe meant “mad hyperbolic” instead of “hyperbolic a lot.”
Yes.
From an essay by Dodie Bellamy:
“Summer, 2004, I went with Kevin to see Fahrenheit 9/11. As I left the theater, still trembling with emotion, we ran into the poet Chris Stroffolino, and we all stood there in the wide, carpeted hallway of the Metreon here in San Francisco and chatted about the film. When Chris suggested that satire always leans to the left, he and Kevin launched into a hearty debate about that, with Kevin bringing up Swift, and Chris grabbing onto Swift and running with it. Afterwards I was troubled. Instead of responding to Michael Moore’s images of torn bodies and the profound sense of loss the film provokes, we’d moved on to the comfortable abstraction of literary terminology, the safe cultural and temporal distances of Swift. To perform as serious intellectuals we feel twin pressures to appreciate Moore’s film but also to distance ourselves from it and to critique it. We cannot appear to have descended to the level of his ever present wailing mothers, where the body takes over and we revert to the preverbal, the primal—raw with screaming, a being spasms with the abject horrors of capitalism’s carnage.”
…I feel a little abt the direction this comment thread already looks like it’s headed as Dodie did abt that conversation abt satire.
It feels live a diversion from the fantastic guts of Lily’s review, re: both politics and aesthetics.
I wasn’t being satirical. It’s an astounding book about violence, colonialism, subjugation, notions of home and safety, etc. Do you guys disagree?
I don’t understand your comments thread, here, anyhow. I’m not trying to get into your personal discussion–I’m just responding to the great review and book.
but when my position is pro-hyperbole, I’m allowed to use it, right? ;)
I dont think this way: hyperbole = hype. I see hype as different, more like there is a less honest intention, or there is an implied deception about something that is hyped, and then it becomes something you have to get past, (ie. do you believe the hype?) it something that is by default considered dishonest and you have to choose whether to elevate it to the level of real. hype is usually applied more generally also. I think of “hyperbole” as intentionless and with respect to more singular instances, more like a tool or something, its just there, its how something is being conveyed to me, whether its intentions are selfish (ie. the conveyor has a stake in the popularity of the thing and cares more about their stake than the actual thing), or simply a burst of real emotion that the conveyor felt about the thing (probably more likely) and isnt going to bother with the limitations of literal meaning.
also, i think the planet (hyperbolic planet. imagine it!) of indepedent literature needs a bit of leniency here. I mean its not like anyone’s stake in any particular book is like going to set someone for life. if you’re touting your friend’s book, well, you’re friends with that dude for a reason, maybe, and we’re all sort of friends here anyway (darby larson is now friends with five other people who have changed their profile picture…). i mean choi is probably reading this comment thread now. it happens in this realm because there is already an understanding that no one really has meaningful stakes in anything here to the extent that it could somehow flip the coin to being worth sacrificing our honest enjoyments for selfish intentions. it shouldnt ever be a matter of is someone being too hyperbolic, it should be a matter of does this person really feel strongly about this thing, and i think for the most part, including this post by lily, they do.
imagine this: there are nice things to talk about in the world.
like puppies, blow jobs and ice cream. I know. But imagine this: standards re: Art
something in the air today. i think adam’s poster below this post is the real culprit, when we are comparing the reading of words (its all just words -lish) to the feeling of an atomic explosion, its like the hyperbole to end all hyperboles. it used to bother me a lot before but im getting more used to it around here. is there a fundamental reason why independent press titles are so susceptible to exaggerated lavs? is it like we are trying to make up for a feeling that something is not getting as much attention as we think it deserves? i dont know. its okay to love though, certainly. but if all you’re doing is loving everything, dont expect me to take you too seriously.
Of course, it’s all too fitting that a post about colonialism/neocolonialism written by an Other writer reviewing a book by another Other writer is hijacked by what would seem, ostensibly, like a handful of white guys.
perform as serious intellectuals
That wasn’t a serious response.
Wait. The response I was responding to is…. gone. Ah, the joys of debating a point with a guy who owns the “delete” button.
yes, no person actually has an innate desire to think about anything, so if you are voicing a thought that seems too complex or too distanced, it can only be for the sake making yourself seem smarter to those around you. the only real response to anything is visceral.
i think you’re being a little absolutist, and maybe facetious. i dont think this is always true, but there’s some truth there. it has to do with your environment and what you have to lose or gain from it.
good job guys, you “seem” smarter to me now. keep it up.
cool!
i’ll debate you something. what do you want to debate. im bored today.
… do you have a “delete” button…?
nope
Thanks for this review, Lily! Such an astounding collection. & I agree, really satisfying to read. I love, too, the way the playfulness in the language works like a calling out–exposes the way language masquerades as a funny little tool, a kooky little puzzle, when actually it’s the stuff of life & death. & yeah, kudos to Action for encouraging the book!
No hyperbole there.
seriousness though, this post made me want to buy this book. thanks lily.
Yeah, except for the black guy who thinks that the profligate use of superlatives is undermining the credibility of the “indie” critique. Should I call you on your racist presumption? Nah… it’s irrelevant.
Sorry Steven. It was a racist assumption, and I ought to know better. My apologies. And honestly, was my use of superlatives so egregious as to undermine the credibility of my critique? Really?
Would that mean it did more than MOVE you?
I didn’t even mean for the weight of my original comment to come down on you or the book you review here, Lily; if you read the first comment I made, you’ll probably see it’s more along the lines of, “Wow… the 25th life-changing indie book out this month!” The indie-lit-bloggosphere is a lush, mad rainforest of superlatives. That’s all I meant by it.
Also: isn’t there anything you feel doesn’t quite work in Choi’s book? A measured analysis that includes a technical shortcoming or two is more convincing to me… I’m more likely to buy a book after reading a positive review that reflects my reading experience (ie, no such thing as a “perfect” artifact). Like, I consider “Sabbath’s Theater” to be one of the high points of late-20th century lit, but I could spend a page on its shortcomings. I’ve never read a “serious” review that 100% positive.
(shit, wrong slot)
(see above)
Calvin: What a day. I feel like I’ve been run over by a train.
(Hobbes pulverizes him)
Calvin: I mean now I feel like that.
Hobbes: See? You should always save hyperbole until you really need it.
Yes, there were things I didn’t like about Choi’s book. But I’m not a poet, nor do I have any training in poetry, and the things I didn’t like–please read here: didn’t understand–were linked to the poetics of it. Yes, there are always criticisms to be made. Reviews ought to be measured, which I thought mine was, and they ought to contain criticism, which this one didn’t, which does not mean I have no criticism for the text, just that I didn’t put it into the review.
I just got done reading the new David Mitchell. It literally sucked the soul out of my body, had it stripped and re-finished. It’s the kind of book that makes you not only proud to be a fucking human being, but proud to be a member of a solar system that makes it possible to be a fucking human being so that you can experience books like this that remind you of how great being a fucking human being can be. While reading the book I shuddered, then collapsed, came to, had a grand mal seizure, swallowed my own foam, levitated, and went into complete cardiac arrest. Definitely a defining moment in my existence, as well as a highlight in the existence of all of my ancestors. Someone needs to use this book to stop the leaky BP faucet. It is that powerful. So powerful that you could send it back in time to kill Hitler. David Mitchell has direct access to the voice of God. Tonight, as I lay down to sleep, I will pray to David Mitchell. This book broke my heart, made me go schitz, gave me a stroke, and caused me to have a three minute orgasm. If you read one book in your lifetime make sure it is the new David Mitchell, and then, when you are done, light yourself on fire and jump from the roof of a tall building, because you’re never going to read a book as good as this again.
you mean the thousand autumns book? i’ll have to read that one.
That’s the strange thing: I need to “trust” a reviewer more than I need to “trust” the novelist. The psychology of the review probably requires that coded “trust me” gesture: “I love this book but I must warn you it’s not perfect.”
I also want to point out that the off piste stuff usually “hijacks” a thread when the original dissenting comment isn’t addressed directly and the ad hominems rush in, instead. I started with a fairly un-pointed,
“Dood… all these superlatives. Every day. Really?”
That comment could have been converted directly into a discussion about the book. The mechanics of these things are almost always the same. We shouldn’t be so quick to treat a dissenting comment as trolling or value-free snark. I did have a point. It could have been addressed and done with in a three-comment exchange.
This thread could also still generate 100 more comments, directly about Choi’s book, to call even more attention to it, if you/we/someone should want it to. I think you have to work the thread to help it yield the best results.
So you’d give it a three out of a possible five stars, then?
Jesus fucking christ.
Another Other-off from someone for whom a few empty grad school buzz wordS (empire, identity, POST-COLONIAL, yay!) add up to praise?
The mystery continues: why is Other-blogger no longer capable of Literary orgasm?
I Mean, I have a few ideas, but — shhhhhhhhhh — I’m white.
(“Fucking human being” via DFW? http://www.google.com/search?q=“fucking+human+being”)
This seems like a weird response to the “critique” of hyperbole posed in this thread. (It seems like a very impoverished critique, if it is that.) What are you doing here… You’re parodying what is perceived as your position in order to make people feel stupid for having interpreted your comment “too literally” or something? You said what you said, man. I dunno. If you didn’t “mean it that way,” then tell us what you meant. Your follow-up comment doesn’t seem very helpful for “advancing the discussion” or even illustrating your position. I dunno. It’s whatever, though, I guess.
Maybe this link will work: http://www.google.com/search?q=%93fucking+human+being%94
Damn.
is there a ‘debate’ button
Actually read Danielle’s comment as “satirical.” Guess it isn’t. Damn.
lily’s post wasnt even that hyperbolic, really, compared to other things. I think VC just decided to pick a fight for the sake of.
but im interested in the discussion and is why im maybe contributing to the unfortunate hi-jacking of this thread a little. if hyperbole is something to pump your fist against, is absolute literalism the alternative? i mean even “intellectual criticism” can only ever boil down to your opinion, so so what if my opinion is that i would like to have an orgy with my book. i do. so i’m telling you is all. is this a war in favor of being simply as literal as possible. i think that extreme would be stranger, or duller, like robots. i just had in image in my head: robots with fangs. fangs like vampire fangs but on robots. someone should put that in a nickelodeon cartoon.
i wish
In my comments in this thread, I haven’t been addressing Lily’s post. I was only responding to VC and talking about some things that Steven was talking about. It seems weird we’re talking about this vague thing here because it seems not even tangentially related to Lily’s post. Maybe continuing this discussion is “disrespectful” (or even “racist”???), but it seems like making little non sequitur comments about my feelings about a rhetorical device on an “indie lit” blog is pretty harmless.
I’m not calling for refraining from hyperbole in writing literature, necessarily. I just think that maybe people should refrain from hyperbole, and maybe other kinds of reactionary behavior, in reviews/criticism of literature. It seems like if they did this maybe they would have to think more carefully and maybe their analysis could be “more elucidating” or something. This position is maybe founded on a desire for “calmness” and “carefulness” and “reasonableness.” It seems that “pump[ing] your fist against” hyperbole is to perpetuate the thing that you want to see go away. I just think that literary criticism would be more useful and enjoyable to me if it were written from a position of “tentative authority” and “epistemological skepticism,” or something. Maybe this is “boring.” I dunno. I don’t think boredom should be avoided. Robots aren’t bored. Maybe being like a robot is “good.”
also, the fang robots are like an army or them and they patrol the streets of suburbs. people who live there have to pay a little bit higher taxes. the army sometimes kills squirrels accidently.
But–don’t you see?–then THEY WIN!!!
That’s from a movie, maybe.
“if hyperbole is something to pump your fist against…”
That’s a hyperbolic reading of this critique of the hyperbole. Hyperbole is the fancy word for “hype”, yes? When is hype good? When you want to sell lots of Coke Zero. Does “hype” work as a default critical stance? Only the first few times.
If this were a Chris Higgs thread, I would clown on that whiteboy hard.
I wasn’t being satirical. It’s an astounding book about violence, colonialism, subjugation, notions of home and safety, etc. Do you guys disagree?
I don’t understand your comments thread, here, anyhow. I’m not trying to get into your personal discussion–I’m just responding to the great review and book.
but when my position is pro-hyperbole, I’m allowed to use it, right? ;)
I dont think this way: hyperbole = hype. I see hype as different, more like there is a less honest intention, or there is an implied deception about something that is hyped, and then it becomes something you have to get past, (ie. do you believe the hype?) it something that is by default considered dishonest and you have to choose whether to elevate it to the level of real. hype is usually applied more generally also. I think of “hyperbole” as intentionless and with respect to more singular instances, more like a tool or something, its just there, its how something is being conveyed to me, whether its intentions are selfish (ie. the conveyor has a stake in the popularity of the thing and cares more about their stake than the actual thing), or simply a burst of real emotion that the conveyor felt about the thing (probably more likely) and isnt going to bother with the limitations of literal meaning.
also, i think the planet (hyperbolic planet. imagine it!) of indepedent literature needs a bit of leniency here. I mean its not like anyone’s stake in any particular book is like going to set someone for life. if you’re touting your friend’s book, well, you’re friends with that dude for a reason, maybe, and we’re all sort of friends here anyway (darby larson is now friends with five other people who have changed their profile picture…). i mean choi is probably reading this comment thread now. it happens in this realm because there is already an understanding that no one really has meaningful stakes in anything here to the extent that it could somehow flip the coin to being worth sacrificing our honest enjoyments for selfish intentions. it shouldnt ever be a matter of is someone being too hyperbolic, it should be a matter of does this person really feel strongly about this thing, and i think for the most part, including this post by lily, they do.
“White is the new Other”? (Or sometime in the future?)
Of course, it’s all too fitting that a post about colonialism/neocolonialism written by an Other writer reviewing a book by another Other writer is hijacked by what would seem, ostensibly, like a handful of white guys.
Yeah, except for the black guy who thinks that the profligate use of superlatives is undermining the credibility of the “indie” critique. Should I call you on your racist presumption? Nah… it’s irrelevant.
Sorry Steven. It was a racist assumption, and I ought to know better. My apologies. And honestly, was my use of superlatives so egregious as to undermine the credibility of my critique? Really?
I didn’t even mean for the weight of my original comment to come down on you or the book you review here, Lily; if you read the first comment I made, you’ll probably see it’s more along the lines of, “Wow… the 25th life-changing indie book out this month!” The indie-lit-bloggosphere is a lush, mad rainforest of superlatives. That’s all I meant by it.
Also: isn’t there anything you feel doesn’t quite work in Choi’s book? A measured analysis that includes a technical shortcoming or two is more convincing to me… I’m more likely to buy a book after reading a positive review that reflects my reading experience (ie, no such thing as a “perfect” artifact). Like, I consider “Sabbath’s Theater” to be one of the high points of late-20th century lit, but I could spend a page on its shortcomings. I’ve never read a “serious” review that 100% positive.
(shit, wrong slot)
(see above)
Calvin: What a day. I feel like I’ve been run over by a train.
(Hobbes pulverizes him)
Calvin: I mean now I feel like that.
Hobbes: See? You should always save hyperbole until you really need it.
Yes, there were things I didn’t like about Choi’s book. But I’m not a poet, nor do I have any training in poetry, and the things I didn’t like–please read here: didn’t understand–were linked to the poetics of it. Yes, there are always criticisms to be made. Reviews ought to be measured, which I thought mine was, and they ought to contain criticism, which this one didn’t, which does not mean I have no criticism for the text, just that I didn’t put it into the review.
That’s the strange thing: I need to “trust” a reviewer more than I need to “trust” the novelist. The psychology of the review probably requires that coded “trust me” gesture: “I love this book but I must warn you it’s not perfect.”
I also want to point out that the off piste stuff usually “hijacks” a thread when the original dissenting comment isn’t addressed directly and the ad hominems rush in, instead. I started with a fairly un-pointed,
“Dood… all these superlatives. Every day. Really?”
That comment could have been converted directly into a discussion about the book. The mechanics of these things are almost always the same. We shouldn’t be so quick to treat a dissenting comment as trolling or value-free snark. I did have a point. It could have been addressed and done with in a three-comment exchange.
This thread could also still generate 100 more comments, directly about Choi’s book, to call even more attention to it, if you/we/someone should want it to. I think you have to work the thread to help it yield the best results.
Jesus fucking christ.
Another Other-off from someone for whom a few empty grad school buzz wordS (empire, identity, POST-COLONIAL, yay!) add up to praise?
The mystery continues: why is Other-blogger no longer capable of Literary orgasm?
I Mean, I have a few ideas, but — shhhhhhhhhh — I’m white.
In my comments in this thread, I haven’t been addressing Lily’s post. I was only responding to VC and talking about some things that Steven was talking about. It seems weird we’re talking about this vague thing here because it seems not even tangentially related to Lily’s post. Maybe continuing this discussion is “disrespectful” (or even “racist”???), but it seems like making little non sequitur comments about my feelings about a rhetorical device on an “indie lit” blog is pretty harmless.
I’m not calling for refraining from hyperbole in writing literature, necessarily. I just think that maybe people should refrain from hyperbole, and maybe other kinds of reactionary behavior, in reviews/criticism of literature. It seems like if they did this maybe they would have to think more carefully and maybe their analysis could be “more elucidating” or something. This position is maybe founded on a desire for “calmness” and “carefulness” and “reasonableness.” It seems that “pump[ing] your fist against” hyperbole is to perpetuate the thing that you want to see go away. I just think that literary criticism would be more useful and enjoyable to me if it were written from a position of “tentative authority” and “epistemological skepticism,” or something. Maybe this is “boring.” I dunno. I don’t think boredom should be avoided. Robots aren’t bored. Maybe being like a robot is “good.”
But–don’t you see?–then THEY WIN!!!
That’s from a movie, maybe.
If this were a Chris Higgs thread, I would clown on that whiteboy hard.
“White is the new Other”? (Or sometime in the future?)
It’s always been the Old Other to me…
It’s always been the Old Other to me…
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