Blake Butler—
Most compelling and/or fucked up sounding contemporary classical compositions, anyone? I need some space.
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The Power of Good Art
The Darlings
by Cristina Alger
Pamela Dorman Books, February 2012
352 pages / $26.95 Buy from Powell’s
From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant
by Alex Gilvarry
Viking Adult, 2012
320 pages / $26.95 Buy from Powell’s
For the past couple months, Full Stop has invited writers like Justin Taylor, Alexander Chee, Danielle Evans, Maud Newton, and many others, to discuss the situation in American Writing. Most of the questions focus on the concerns contemporary writers face, particularly in terms of the responsibility, if any, writers have to respond to popular upheaval, social change, and the various crises our world is facing. It’s an important question–how do we write about the world we live in? The range of answers to these questions has been fascinating and they reveal the many differing opinions writers have about what we should be writing and what responsibility we have to document the world as it is changing.
I recently read two very different books, both responding to this world we live in, books that made me think about the different ways writers can approach the issues currently shaping our sociopolitical climate–The Darlings by Cristina Alger and From the Memoir of a Non-Enemy Combatant by Alex Gilvarry.
1 Comment
January 24th, 2012 / 1:00 pm
January 24th, 2012 / 1:00 pm
Comic
DRUG-RELATED PHOTOSHOP ART – 38 YR OLD MORBIDLY OBESE TAO LIN
38-year-old “ironically”/”prophetically” morbidly obese and visibly jaundiced Tao Lin, author of 9 novels and 2 illegitimate “hapa” children, at Columbia University’s Creative Writing 2021 annual symposium “The Otherness of The Other: Other Ways to View Oneself Besides Boring” panel discussion (seated far left, visibly deflated after answering “seems like…I don’t know” to the three questions he was asked) vaguely “squinting” with left (and only operational) eye at group of semi-anorexic ~22-to-23 year-old recent graduates from Sarah Lawrence now fashion bloggers, all of whom he envisions having non-detached relations with, simultaneously, “on” 2x slow-release 20 mg Ritalin tablets, 3-month-expired NyQuil gel-caps, and a “sex swing” adorned with dried eucalyptus leaves imported from Australia affixed in PPOW gallery installation w/ speakers playing koala bear mating sounds. Lin is heard mumbling something about defunct literary enterprise Muumuu house, “needing only 217 twitter followers until [he] reach[es], like, one million maybe” and something about a pâté smootie moments before MDMA-induced seizure, by which gasps of Diane Williams-esque “odd” and vaguely passive-aggressive NOON worthy dialog followed.
Mike and Mike bring you The Volta
Hey Mike is there a one stop poetry megasite where I can 1) go to read cool poetics essays by everybody from C.D Wright to Laura Glenum, 2) catch up on reviews of books out from presses like City Lights, 3) watch videos of shit like Joshua Clover getting kicked out of a bank, 4) scan all the current poetry news that stays news and otherwise, 5) dive into a nicely manageable monthly poetry journal that features one poem by three people per issue, especially if those people are like Noelle Kocot or something, and 6) speaking of people also maybe find smart interviews with people like Tyrone Williams? Also it would help if this online poetry megasite were based out of the American desert. Like not the proverbial American desert but some actual sand and shit. Like also if the site were designed to be as clean and navigable as a desert highway.
Oh cool, I like them. What is this thing called?
Awesome. Also why is there a light on your water pitcher that flashes different colors depending on filter age?
I have no idea, but it’s terrifying and soothing in equal measures.
Yeah, yeah, ‘equal measures,’ boring, whatever Mike, if you’re so fucking smart why don’t you go talk to yourself using some bloated smart person prepositional phrases like ‘that which’ while I actually do something with my life like checking out The Volta.
=(
Sorry just kidding Mike I know how you need relentlessly undiluted adoration all the time so don’t worry I still love you.
=)!!!
Wow I didn’t think you could put exclamation marks after emoticons, that’s really kind of a new low, please don’t ever talk to me again.
Being & Time without the Being
Today is Lunar New Year. Happy new year to those of you to follow that calendar. I don’t, but I like the idea of having two new years to celebrate. Also, I’m superstitious, and if one new year’s day isn’t what I wanted, I get another stab at it: today.
Like most Americans, I follow the Gregorian calendar. I grew up Catholic, so I never understood the whole lunar calendar thing, but I think the rest of my family – who are Buddhist – do. But it’s the year of the dragon. Dragons are cool. For those of you who watch Game of Thrones: how the fuck do you progress from dragons. Dragons enter the picture and it’s game fucking over, people.
Speaking of new year’s day: England didn’t accept January 1 as the commencement of the new year until 1752, when they adopted the Gregorian calendar. Other European countries were quicker to adjust, but England stood strong, until 1752 that is.
Derrida on Yes in Ulyesss
“ULYSSES GRAMOPHONE: Hear say yes in Joyce”
Speaking of Joyce. Some the best writing on reading I maybe ever. Don’t worry if you ain’t Ulyssesed. No soft spots on the grindstone.
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MODERNIST?: JOÃO GUIMARÃES ROSA
Don’t let the cats fool you, João Guimarães Rosa is the man. The man like Mann or Proust or Melville or Faulkner or Borges or Calvino or Joyce…Only, you may have never been made aware of the fact. Don’t feel bad, you’re not alone. As a matter of fact: you’re right at home in the United States of America if you’ve never heard of João Guimarães Rosa.
The Lowest-Grossing Movies of 2011
Lynn Collins and Thomas Dekker in Angels Crest, the lowest-grossing feature of 2011.
As I’ve been suggesting in my past two posts (“How Many Movies Are There?” and “How Many Movies Have You Seen?“), regardless of how one defines the parameters of a feature film—let alone a movie—there are far too many of them for anyone to watch. The IMDb lists 8143 titles in their list “Feature Films Released in 2011“; assuming they’re all at least 40 minutes long, that’s a combined run time well in excess of 226 days.
Now, obviously those movies aren’t for everyone (and many of them probably aren’t for anyone, save close friends and family). But—still. Movies. Lots. How does someone interested in cinematic criticism—or just even watching cool things—begin to navigate this abundance?
$hot
Approximately 0:34:51 into American Pie Presents: Beta House (2007), Erik Stifler, sexually inexperienced and effeminized cousin of the notorious Steve Stifler, “prematurely” ejaculates on love interest Ashley’s childhood teddybear Mr. Biggles, whose odd spectacles vaguely nod to “Cum on My Glasses,” a porn site in which glasses are fetishized as worn by nerds, students, and secretaries. Before it hits Biggles (along with a framed graduation photo, from peripheral splatter), it passes slow motion (~35-40% speed) through the air in front of Ashley, who looks both shocked and fairly irritated. Shooting across where a mustache could be drawn, one is reminded of Duchamp’s treatment of Mona Lisa. Ashley (no last name given) had inadvertently induced this scene by applying ointment to Erik’s inner thigh, which had been scalded with a prophetic-y clam chowder a waitress had spilt on him two scenes prior. The reason this post is not tagged NSFW, arguably at least, is because (a) semen “alone,” even in this eroticized context, is not pornography without a clear view of its target or emitter; and (b) the semen in mention is not actually semen, but a mixture of cream, cornstarch, corn syrup, and gelatin, a well known culinary recipe for cum. Mere representation is not liable to having meaning. We imagine a special effects assistant with a turkey baster, or perhaps more elaborate contraption designed for expelling said fluid. Both men and women will agree this “load” is on the profuse side, which may point to either the overall excessive nature of the American Pie series, or to imply that Erik did not “clean his pipes” the way Ted (Ben Stiller) was instructed to in There’s Something About Mary, leading to their more pop-historical cum scene involving Ted’s earlobe and then Mary’s hair. In horror film, and even action movies, blood is splattered and sprayed everywhere. We almost relish in it; and while we are more subdued and embarrassed by cum, it is piss and shit which remain truly subversive, never film friendly, as if we were ashamed of our waste the most. To induce blood or cum takes so much more conviction and indiscretion, yet it is the prosaic biologically inevitable urine and feces upon which we bestow our deepest morals and fears. It is not we who are not safe for work, but work which is not safe for life. To your boss or co-worker looking over your shoulder at this flying jizz, tell them simply to come on as in get over it not my face.
Sunday Reading List
Over at The Rumpus, Elissa Bassist offers great advice on how to write like a funny woman.
The National Book Critics Circle has announced the finalists for their 2011 book awards.
Edith Wharton turns 150 on Tuesday and she still looks great. The New York Times gives her a nod as they talk about heiresses and social climbers and such.
Anil Dash discusses the web as a medium for protest.
On her blog, Anna Leigh Clark shared an image of the most amazing writing group that included Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Ntozake Shange, June Jordan, Lori Sharpe, and Audrey Edwards, among others. I want to know absolutely everything about this group now.
Margaret Atwood revisits The Handmaid’s Tale, which has remained in print since 1985.
Cory Doctorow’s essay about a vocabulary for speaking about the future is really interesting.
Are you watching Downton Abbey? Team Mary, right? And Edith; she is the worst. Over at The Millions, an essay about the literary pedigree of the show. Also, Shit the Dowager Countess Says and Downton Abbeyonce. You’re welcome.
Jennifer Weiner looked at the gender breakdown for reviews in the Times for 2011.
In The Atlantic, Caitlin Flanagan wrote a… curious essay about Joan Didion that included the assertion that to really love Didion, you have to be a woman. Like I said, curious.