This afternoon I read Richard Price's The Wanderers (1974) and really enjoyed it. It is about a gang in the North Bronx (my old neighborhood) in 1962 and how they slowly drift apart as they grow older. I enjoyed it partly because of its depiction of the Bronx, including businesses I would go to like the White Castle on Allerton Avenue and Alexander's on Fordham Road, partly because of Price's gift for description (there isn't much food in the book, but it made me hungry every time it was mentioned), and partly because Price makes the reader care about the characters even though most of them are hoodlums.
The novel depicts the desperation felt by young Americans at the beginning of the 1960s that led to the societal tumult at the end of the decade in a heartwrenching, mesmerizing way. I couldn't put the book down. I don't feel very articulate about it yet because I am still processing it in quiet awe. It put David Bowie's "Star" in my head, mostly for the understated, needy, defeated mood of the music, but also because of the lyrics: "Tony went to fight in Belfast / Rudi stayed at home to starve / I could make it all worthwhile as a rock & roll star." The characters in The Wanderers all want to do something to break out of their routine, soul-crushing lives. If they could just find that one thing to make it "worthwhile" for themselves and the ones they care about...
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Foer's Tree of Codes
I just finished reading Jonathan Safran Foer's Tree of Codes and it is amazing! To create it, he cut holes in a copy of Bruno Schulz's The Street of Crocodiles so that a new narrative is created, partly from the words remaining on each page, and partly from the resulting combination of words on the page one is reading and later pages that one can see via the holes cut in each page. It is postmodern fiction at its best: a text that questions the concept of the book itself while still being a beautiful work of art that affirms the necessity of narrative for human existence.
It is only 134 pages long, and reads more like a long poem that consists of page-long, haiku-like poems than like prose. There is a basic narrative present, but it is secondary to the physical form of the book, which is just as much a piece of plastic art as it is a piece of literature. It is more empty space than text, and some pages (e.g., 60) are virtually all open space.
Here are three of my favorite page-poems (a full list would be about a third of the book's pages):
"Apart from them, mother and I ambled, guiding our shadows over a keyboard of paving stones. we passed the chemist's large jar of pain. we passed houses," 10
"her boundaries held only loosely, ready to scatter as if smoke. all her complaints, all her worries her no purpose, her eyes reflected the garden" 17
"he spoke almost incoherently. he blinked in the light, spilled darkness at each flutter of the lids. he said he had lost the way and hardly knew how to get back. perhaps the city had ceased to exist" 106
But it is difficult to get the full power of these fragments just from reading them; their physical manifestation is just as important.
One of my favorite aspects of the book is its inclusion of various metafictional statements that reaffirm the slipperiness of what the reader experiences:
"It was a dialogue" 29
"our creations will be temporary" 51
"tree of codes suddenly appears: one can see" 94
"nothing can reach a definite conclusion" 95
"The tree of codes was better than a paper imitation" 96
"Perhaps the spaces suggested by the mind did not exist?" 107 (this one is especially true, as the book is so well-constructed that it is often difficult to discern whether what one is reading is on the current page or a following page)
"The interior formed itself into the panorama of a landscape" 117
Tree of Codes is well worth its $40 cover price (amazon.com has it for $26); it is an essential text. I can't wait to teach it sometime!
It is only 134 pages long, and reads more like a long poem that consists of page-long, haiku-like poems than like prose. There is a basic narrative present, but it is secondary to the physical form of the book, which is just as much a piece of plastic art as it is a piece of literature. It is more empty space than text, and some pages (e.g., 60) are virtually all open space.
Here are three of my favorite page-poems (a full list would be about a third of the book's pages):
"Apart from them, mother and I ambled, guiding our shadows over a keyboard of paving stones. we passed the chemist's large jar of pain. we passed houses," 10
"her boundaries held only loosely, ready to scatter as if smoke. all her complaints, all her worries her no purpose, her eyes reflected the garden" 17
"he spoke almost incoherently. he blinked in the light, spilled darkness at each flutter of the lids. he said he had lost the way and hardly knew how to get back. perhaps the city had ceased to exist" 106
But it is difficult to get the full power of these fragments just from reading them; their physical manifestation is just as important.
One of my favorite aspects of the book is its inclusion of various metafictional statements that reaffirm the slipperiness of what the reader experiences:
"It was a dialogue" 29
"our creations will be temporary" 51
"tree of codes suddenly appears: one can see" 94
"nothing can reach a definite conclusion" 95
"The tree of codes was better than a paper imitation" 96
"Perhaps the spaces suggested by the mind did not exist?" 107 (this one is especially true, as the book is so well-constructed that it is often difficult to discern whether what one is reading is on the current page or a following page)
"The interior formed itself into the panorama of a landscape" 117
Tree of Codes is well worth its $40 cover price (amazon.com has it for $26); it is an essential text. I can't wait to teach it sometime!
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Books Acquired Recently
Books Acquired Recently
Bannon, Ann. The Beebo Brinker Chronicles. New York: Quality Paperback Book Club, 1995.
I found this used at Better World Books in Goshen, Indiana. It includes four of Bannon's Beebo Brinker novels: Odd Girl Out (1957), I Am A Woman (1959), Women in the Shadows (1959), and Beebo Brinker (1962). I've read Beebo Brinker before and really enjoyed it because it gives a non-condemning view of lesbianism and is thus an essential early text in LGBT literature. I am a total sucker for omnibus volumes like this one, and it was only $5.98, so I had to buy it even though I am trying not to buy more books before I move at the end of July.
Foer, Jonathan Safran. Tree of Codes. 2nd ed. London: Visual Editions, 2011.
I am so excited to finally get this book! I ordered it in January when I first heard about it, and amazon claimed to have it in stock, but didn't because the first printing (called the first edition by the publisher, and the copy I have is labelled the "second edition" on the copyright page, but as far as I know it is the same text as the first; that is, it should be labelled the "second printing," not "edition") had already sold out. Copies of it were selling for hundreds of dollars. Once the second printing came out amazon fulfilled my order at their original price, $26, which is a great deal since the cover price is $40. I love Foer's work, and I love postmodern fiction, including his, so I am super-excited to see what he does with Tree of Codes, which has cut-outs on every page so that the words from other pages become part of the story of the page one is reading at the moment. It is as much an art object as it is a novel.
Bannon, Ann. The Beebo Brinker Chronicles. New York: Quality Paperback Book Club, 1995.
I found this used at Better World Books in Goshen, Indiana. It includes four of Bannon's Beebo Brinker novels: Odd Girl Out (1957), I Am A Woman (1959), Women in the Shadows (1959), and Beebo Brinker (1962). I've read Beebo Brinker before and really enjoyed it because it gives a non-condemning view of lesbianism and is thus an essential early text in LGBT literature. I am a total sucker for omnibus volumes like this one, and it was only $5.98, so I had to buy it even though I am trying not to buy more books before I move at the end of July.
Foer, Jonathan Safran. Tree of Codes. 2nd ed. London: Visual Editions, 2011.
I am so excited to finally get this book! I ordered it in January when I first heard about it, and amazon claimed to have it in stock, but didn't because the first printing (called the first edition by the publisher, and the copy I have is labelled the "second edition" on the copyright page, but as far as I know it is the same text as the first; that is, it should be labelled the "second printing," not "edition") had already sold out. Copies of it were selling for hundreds of dollars. Once the second printing came out amazon fulfilled my order at their original price, $26, which is a great deal since the cover price is $40. I love Foer's work, and I love postmodern fiction, including his, so I am super-excited to see what he does with Tree of Codes, which has cut-outs on every page so that the words from other pages become part of the story of the page one is reading at the moment. It is as much an art object as it is a novel.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
"Is it better to burn out or fade away?"
The title of this post is from Jack Black's character in High Fidelity as he's considering Stevie Wonder's legacy after rejecting a customer who is looking for a copy of "I Just Called to Say I Love You."
It is a difficult question, one that I have been thinking about the past few days while reading William S. Burroughs's Naked Lunch. I ended up liking the book and would recommend it as a thought-provoking read and enjoyable aesthetic experience, but during the first quarter of it was feeling that it wasn't very good and was another example of a text that is revolutionary when it is published, but loses its power outside of its original context (two filmic examples that immediately come to mind are 2001: A Space Odyssey and Midnight Cowboy). It just seemed like a bad prose rewriting of Allen Ginsberg's Howl (which makes sense because Ginsberg played a large role in editing it); it takes a little while to find its unique voice. Anyway, it was nice not to be disappointed by the novel's end.
It is a difficult question, one that I have been thinking about the past few days while reading William S. Burroughs's Naked Lunch. I ended up liking the book and would recommend it as a thought-provoking read and enjoyable aesthetic experience, but during the first quarter of it was feeling that it wasn't very good and was another example of a text that is revolutionary when it is published, but loses its power outside of its original context (two filmic examples that immediately come to mind are 2001: A Space Odyssey and Midnight Cowboy). It just seemed like a bad prose rewriting of Allen Ginsberg's Howl (which makes sense because Ginsberg played a large role in editing it); it takes a little while to find its unique voice. Anyway, it was nice not to be disappointed by the novel's end.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Books Acquired Recently
Books Acquired Recently
Beachy, Kirsten Eve, ed. Tongue Screws and Testimonies: Poems Stories, and Essays Inspired by the Martyrs Mirror. Scottdale: Herald, 2010.
I've been meaning to buy this for a while. The Martyrs Mirror is a compilation of Anabaptist martyr stories first published in 1660. It is traditionally given as a wedding or graduation gift by Mennonites as a way of passing down Mennonite values to younger generations. I received it as a Christmas present when I was 16 and read my way through it over several years (it is 1300 folio-sized pages long). I have always been fascinated by it; I think an anthology of literature inspired by people's interactions with it is an excellent idea, and I know several of the contributors, so I am very excited to read it.
Brandt, Di. Walking to Mojacar. Winnipeg: Turnstone, 2010.
Brandt is one of my favorite poets. Her language crackles with energy, and her poems are unashamedly activist while at the same time being beautifully crafted. Unfortunately, as a Canadian, she is not well-known in the U.S., which is a failing of the American English teaching community. There is generally not an institutional space for Canadian literature to get taught in the U.S. because most departments are too small to offer courses in it (and there might not be student interest, but it is our job as teachers/critics to build this interest), and Canadian writers tend to get ignored in postcolonial literature courses. As a result, it is virtually impossible for Canadian writers to gain any traction in the U.S. unless they are lucky enough to be published in high-profile venues such as the New Yorker, as is the case with Margaret Atwood and Alice Munro.
Schakel, Peter, and Jack Ridl, eds. 250 Poems: A Portable Anthology. 2nd ed. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin's, 2009.
I ordered this as a desk copy because I will be using it in my Introduction to Literature course this coming semester. It has a nice selection of poems from the Renaissance throught the twenty-first century, a range that is difficult to find. Incidentally, Jack Ridl gave a reading at my alma mater, Goshen College, my last year there. I enjoyed his work.
Beachy, Kirsten Eve, ed. Tongue Screws and Testimonies: Poems Stories, and Essays Inspired by the Martyrs Mirror. Scottdale: Herald, 2010.
I've been meaning to buy this for a while. The Martyrs Mirror is a compilation of Anabaptist martyr stories first published in 1660. It is traditionally given as a wedding or graduation gift by Mennonites as a way of passing down Mennonite values to younger generations. I received it as a Christmas present when I was 16 and read my way through it over several years (it is 1300 folio-sized pages long). I have always been fascinated by it; I think an anthology of literature inspired by people's interactions with it is an excellent idea, and I know several of the contributors, so I am very excited to read it.
Brandt, Di. Walking to Mojacar. Winnipeg: Turnstone, 2010.
Brandt is one of my favorite poets. Her language crackles with energy, and her poems are unashamedly activist while at the same time being beautifully crafted. Unfortunately, as a Canadian, she is not well-known in the U.S., which is a failing of the American English teaching community. There is generally not an institutional space for Canadian literature to get taught in the U.S. because most departments are too small to offer courses in it (and there might not be student interest, but it is our job as teachers/critics to build this interest), and Canadian writers tend to get ignored in postcolonial literature courses. As a result, it is virtually impossible for Canadian writers to gain any traction in the U.S. unless they are lucky enough to be published in high-profile venues such as the New Yorker, as is the case with Margaret Atwood and Alice Munro.
Schakel, Peter, and Jack Ridl, eds. 250 Poems: A Portable Anthology. 2nd ed. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin's, 2009.
I ordered this as a desk copy because I will be using it in my Introduction to Literature course this coming semester. It has a nice selection of poems from the Renaissance throught the twenty-first century, a range that is difficult to find. Incidentally, Jack Ridl gave a reading at my alma mater, Goshen College, my last year there. I enjoyed his work.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Book Recently Acquired
Book Recently Acquired
Cooke, Joanne, Charlotte Bunch-Weeks, and Robin Morgan, eds. The New Women: An Anthology of Women's Liberation. 1970. Greenwich: Fawcett, 1971.
I picked this up used from the free book table at school. I love old anthologies like this (especially from the various liberation movements of the 1960s and 1970s) because of their value as historical texts. I like to see what people were thinking, who was thinking it, how many of the thinkers are still relevant (or, at least, have kept publishing their thoughts [a crasser way of putting this is "who have I heard of, and what are the reasons I haven't heard of the others?"]) today? I have only heard of a few of the authors--Cynthia Ozick, Diane Di Prima, Rita Mae Brown, and Robin Morgan--but the questions listed on the back cover that the anthology addresses are still relevant today: "Why are we intimidated by the fashion and beauty industries? Why do we have to get married? Why do we have to have children? Why are we paid lower wages for doing the same work as men?" and so on. It is always nice to be reminded of the concrete issues and demands raised by second-wave feminism every once in a while even though I am more of a third-wave thinker.
There is also an essay by W.I.T.C.H (Women's International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell). I love the old collectives from those days and wish more activists/writers would adopt the model. I am a sucker for manifestos, and collectives are usually the best sources of them. I especially appreciate the effort to come up with an organizational name that results in a meaningful acronym.
Cooke, Joanne, Charlotte Bunch-Weeks, and Robin Morgan, eds. The New Women: An Anthology of Women's Liberation. 1970. Greenwich: Fawcett, 1971.
I picked this up used from the free book table at school. I love old anthologies like this (especially from the various liberation movements of the 1960s and 1970s) because of their value as historical texts. I like to see what people were thinking, who was thinking it, how many of the thinkers are still relevant (or, at least, have kept publishing their thoughts [a crasser way of putting this is "who have I heard of, and what are the reasons I haven't heard of the others?"]) today? I have only heard of a few of the authors--Cynthia Ozick, Diane Di Prima, Rita Mae Brown, and Robin Morgan--but the questions listed on the back cover that the anthology addresses are still relevant today: "Why are we intimidated by the fashion and beauty industries? Why do we have to get married? Why do we have to have children? Why are we paid lower wages for doing the same work as men?" and so on. It is always nice to be reminded of the concrete issues and demands raised by second-wave feminism every once in a while even though I am more of a third-wave thinker.
There is also an essay by W.I.T.C.H (Women's International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell). I love the old collectives from those days and wish more activists/writers would adopt the model. I am a sucker for manifestos, and collectives are usually the best sources of them. I especially appreciate the effort to come up with an organizational name that results in a meaningful acronym.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
The Man in the High Castle
Yesterday evening I read Philip K. Dick's The Man in the High Castle. It turned out to be the perfect text for me at the moment. The characters' shared questioning of human existence and their understanding that one can never truly know the right way for sure, but must do one's best to find direction and just enjoy the ride was a message I needed to hear. I would love to teach it in a Literature and Religion course.
On a more concrete level, I enjoyed the novel's depiction of collectors because I love to collect things (especially books!). It is the best fictional portrayal of collectors/of the feel of collecting--the passion, the obsession, the tactile joy of the experience--that I have read, better than Zadie Smith's The Autograph Man. I freely admit that I sometimes seek solace from life's difficulties in material culture, and the book does an excellent job of portraying collecting's function as a form of (sometimes necessary) escapism. I also loved the book's consideration of "place," both as a geographical entity and as an expression of one's status within society. Place is a desperately important concept, but too few people realize this. The book's metafictional aspects (it revolves around a novel that is its exact opposite) are also delightful, an early example of American postmodernism. Well done.
On a more concrete level, I enjoyed the novel's depiction of collectors because I love to collect things (especially books!). It is the best fictional portrayal of collectors/of the feel of collecting--the passion, the obsession, the tactile joy of the experience--that I have read, better than Zadie Smith's The Autograph Man. I freely admit that I sometimes seek solace from life's difficulties in material culture, and the book does an excellent job of portraying collecting's function as a form of (sometimes necessary) escapism. I also loved the book's consideration of "place," both as a geographical entity and as an expression of one's status within society. Place is a desperately important concept, but too few people realize this. The book's metafictional aspects (it revolves around a novel that is its exact opposite) are also delightful, an early example of American postmodernism. Well done.
Friday, May 20, 2011
The Flying Troutmans
I just finished reading Miriam Toews's novel The Flying Troutmans, and quite enjoyed it. The plot is not especially fascinating (it's a typical "road trip" narrative), but the characters are fantastic. The 11-year-old girl Phebes is especially good. She is a precocious child similar to Oskar in Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (her talents are artistic rather than scientific, though). Her adult-like persona is almost unrealistic at times, but Toews does a good job of mixing in enough childishness to make her believable. Phebes's brother Logan's single-minded devotion to basketball is also well-done, and is somewhat humorous because he's Canadian (Steve Nash notwithstanding).
The pastiche of pop culture references that Toews mixes in is also entertaining because of its highly eclectic nature. It includes Fight Club (109), the Bible (83), Sylvia Plath (167), Scrabble (63), David Bowie (125), the Beatles (83), and James Bond (116) among others. The novel has a postmodern feel despite its realist chronological narrative, in part because of its pastichiness and in part because of its continued emphasis that hoping for centers in human existence is futile: nothing is universal or infallible. It manages to convey this somber message in an enjoyable, often humorous way, though.
The pastiche of pop culture references that Toews mixes in is also entertaining because of its highly eclectic nature. It includes Fight Club (109), the Bible (83), Sylvia Plath (167), Scrabble (63), David Bowie (125), the Beatles (83), and James Bond (116) among others. The novel has a postmodern feel despite its realist chronological narrative, in part because of its pastichiness and in part because of its continued emphasis that hoping for centers in human existence is futile: nothing is universal or infallible. It manages to convey this somber message in an enjoyable, often humorous way, though.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Books Acquired Recently
Books Acquired Recently
I received a $50.00 giftcard to Barnes & Noble from a friend this past weekend and finally got a chance to spend it tonight. My philosophy in such situations is to spend the giftcard in the store rather than online (where I buy the large majority of my books [in part because DeKalb doesn't have any good bookstores]) in order to periodically get the satisfying experience of browsing in a bookstore without a specific goal for what I will purchase. Unfortunately, my library is extensive enough that it can be difficult to find desirable books that I don't already own at chain bookstores. I am happy with what I found this evening, but what I bought was all that I found--slim pickings.
Burroughs, William S. Naked Lunch: The Restored Text. Ed. James Grauerholz and Barry Miles. 1959. New York: Grove, 2001.
I've been meaning to read this for a while. It's a little embarrassing that I haven't gotten around to it yet. I looked for it every time I have been in a used bookstore for the past year or so and didn't find a copy, which could indicate that those who own it are loathe to part with it, a good sign (I had the same experience with Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club for about five years, and finally broke down and bought it new several months ago).
Dick, Philip K. The Man in the High Castle. 1962. New York: Vintage, 1992.
Dick is another author I've been meaning to read for a while. I have almost bought the Library of America's first collection of his work several times because their editions are so aesthetically pleasing, but haven't been able to find it for a good price ($35.00 is a bit steep for an author I've never read before and am not obligated to be familiar with for scholarly reasons). After reading the section on Dick in Thomas Disch's The Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of, I decided that The Man in the High Castle sounded fascinating, but the rest of his work did not, thus I decided to buy the single volume tonight rather than the collection.
When I had a vasectomy six years ago, the doctor knew that I studied literature, and he mentioned that he enjoyed reading Dick and then proceeded to make jokes about him throughout the procedure: "I love Dick," "I'm a big Dick fan," et cetera. One of the most bizarre experiences of my life.
Reed, Ishmael, ed. From Totems to Hip-Hop: A Multicultural Anthology of Poetry Across the Americas, 1900-2002. New York: Thunder's Mouth, 2003.
I am obsessed with poetry anthologies in part because of their role in canon formation and in part because they serve as intriguing historical documents once they get old because of all of the writers included in them who then fade away. This one looked exciting on the shelf: an editor whose work I love and parameters (both in terms of ethnicity/nationality and genre--I am a big supporter of the recent trend in studying music lyrics, especially rap lyrics, as poetry) that are not repeated by any of the other anthologies I own. I've been reading much more poetry in the last six months than I had for at least five years, really craving it again, which has been quite enjoyable.
I received a $50.00 giftcard to Barnes & Noble from a friend this past weekend and finally got a chance to spend it tonight. My philosophy in such situations is to spend the giftcard in the store rather than online (where I buy the large majority of my books [in part because DeKalb doesn't have any good bookstores]) in order to periodically get the satisfying experience of browsing in a bookstore without a specific goal for what I will purchase. Unfortunately, my library is extensive enough that it can be difficult to find desirable books that I don't already own at chain bookstores. I am happy with what I found this evening, but what I bought was all that I found--slim pickings.
Burroughs, William S. Naked Lunch: The Restored Text. Ed. James Grauerholz and Barry Miles. 1959. New York: Grove, 2001.
I've been meaning to read this for a while. It's a little embarrassing that I haven't gotten around to it yet. I looked for it every time I have been in a used bookstore for the past year or so and didn't find a copy, which could indicate that those who own it are loathe to part with it, a good sign (I had the same experience with Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club for about five years, and finally broke down and bought it new several months ago).
Dick, Philip K. The Man in the High Castle. 1962. New York: Vintage, 1992.
Dick is another author I've been meaning to read for a while. I have almost bought the Library of America's first collection of his work several times because their editions are so aesthetically pleasing, but haven't been able to find it for a good price ($35.00 is a bit steep for an author I've never read before and am not obligated to be familiar with for scholarly reasons). After reading the section on Dick in Thomas Disch's The Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of, I decided that The Man in the High Castle sounded fascinating, but the rest of his work did not, thus I decided to buy the single volume tonight rather than the collection.
When I had a vasectomy six years ago, the doctor knew that I studied literature, and he mentioned that he enjoyed reading Dick and then proceeded to make jokes about him throughout the procedure: "I love Dick," "I'm a big Dick fan," et cetera. One of the most bizarre experiences of my life.
Reed, Ishmael, ed. From Totems to Hip-Hop: A Multicultural Anthology of Poetry Across the Americas, 1900-2002. New York: Thunder's Mouth, 2003.
I am obsessed with poetry anthologies in part because of their role in canon formation and in part because they serve as intriguing historical documents once they get old because of all of the writers included in them who then fade away. This one looked exciting on the shelf: an editor whose work I love and parameters (both in terms of ethnicity/nationality and genre--I am a big supporter of the recent trend in studying music lyrics, especially rap lyrics, as poetry) that are not repeated by any of the other anthologies I own. I've been reading much more poetry in the last six months than I had for at least five years, really craving it again, which has been quite enjoyable.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Roth's The Humbling
I just finished reading Philip Roth's The Humbling. Generally I have enjoyed his recent fiction (especially Exit Ghost) and been impressed with the continuing high quality of his work in his 70s, but even so I was surprised with how good The Humbling is both in terms of aesthetic quality and plot (i.e., the enjoyable quality of the story--it's a good yarn). The protagonist Simon's story ends up being the traditional Roth plot of a megalomaniacal man who is incapable of seeing other peoples' actions as anything other than slights against him (though this time he's not a self-hating Jew), but with the twist (for Roth) thrown in that the woman he desires and seduces is a lesbian.
This is where the book becomes problematic. Virtually all of Roth's protagonists are horribly misogynist, but their idiocy is clear to readers: their anti-women feelings are so intense that the characters become caricatures (as Roth intends) and we know to disagree with them. However, The Humbling's treatment of lesbianism (not to mention its flat, stereotypical, oppressive treatment of transgendered persons) is much more muddied. Simon's love interest, Pegeen, has just been jilted by her lover and now views lesbianism as a "seventeen-year mistake" (61). So of course she follows the stereotypical questioning lesbian narrative of "let's find a penis to help me through my problems; being heteronormative is obviously what I need to help me through my life issues." (This narrative is also evident most recently in Julianne Moore's character from the film The Kids Are All Right.) When she and Simon first have sex, she tells him that his penis "fills you up [...] the way dildos and fingers don't" (92). At this point the dialogue resembles badly written pornography for straight men.
Pegeen leaves Simon at the end of the book, which would seem to reject her previous rejection of lesbianism, but we are not told what happens to her once she leaves. She might go back to women or she might not. Roth has, of course, made a career of writing troubling texts that readers are nevertheless unable to put down, and The Humbling is no different in this regard. But this is the first time that I have been unable to simply laugh it off afterward, and I am still trying to figure out how I feel about that.
This is where the book becomes problematic. Virtually all of Roth's protagonists are horribly misogynist, but their idiocy is clear to readers: their anti-women feelings are so intense that the characters become caricatures (as Roth intends) and we know to disagree with them. However, The Humbling's treatment of lesbianism (not to mention its flat, stereotypical, oppressive treatment of transgendered persons) is much more muddied. Simon's love interest, Pegeen, has just been jilted by her lover and now views lesbianism as a "seventeen-year mistake" (61). So of course she follows the stereotypical questioning lesbian narrative of "let's find a penis to help me through my problems; being heteronormative is obviously what I need to help me through my life issues." (This narrative is also evident most recently in Julianne Moore's character from the film The Kids Are All Right.) When she and Simon first have sex, she tells him that his penis "fills you up [...] the way dildos and fingers don't" (92). At this point the dialogue resembles badly written pornography for straight men.
Pegeen leaves Simon at the end of the book, which would seem to reject her previous rejection of lesbianism, but we are not told what happens to her once she leaves. She might go back to women or she might not. Roth has, of course, made a career of writing troubling texts that readers are nevertheless unable to put down, and The Humbling is no different in this regard. But this is the first time that I have been unable to simply laugh it off afterward, and I am still trying to figure out how I feel about that.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Books Acquired Recently (continued)
As I was writing the previous post this morning, the mailman (gendered term used intentionally because it actually was a man today) delivered three more book packages that I didn't have time to open until this evening:
Fox, Robert Elliot. Conscientious Sorcerers: The Black Postmodernist Fiction of LeRoi Jones/Amiri Baraka, Ishmael Reed, and Samuel R. Delany. Westport: Greenwood, 1987.
I used this book a lot during my dissertation and decided to buy my own copy because Fox is one of the few critics to examine Delany's The Tides of Lust in-depth, which is one of the novels that I will study in my next book.
Sallis, James, ed. Ash of Stars: On the Writing of Samuel R. Delany. Jackson: UP of Mississippi, 1996.
Another book that was helpful for the Delany chapter of my dissertation and will also come in handy for my next project.
Weedman, Jane Branham. Samuel R. Delany. Mercer Island: Starmont, 1982.
Rounding out my collection of Delany criticism.
Fox, Robert Elliot. Conscientious Sorcerers: The Black Postmodernist Fiction of LeRoi Jones/Amiri Baraka, Ishmael Reed, and Samuel R. Delany. Westport: Greenwood, 1987.
I used this book a lot during my dissertation and decided to buy my own copy because Fox is one of the few critics to examine Delany's The Tides of Lust in-depth, which is one of the novels that I will study in my next book.
Sallis, James, ed. Ash of Stars: On the Writing of Samuel R. Delany. Jackson: UP of Mississippi, 1996.
Another book that was helpful for the Delany chapter of my dissertation and will also come in handy for my next project.
Weedman, Jane Branham. Samuel R. Delany. Mercer Island: Starmont, 1982.
Rounding out my collection of Delany criticism.
Books Acquired Recently
Books Acquired Recently:
I've gone a little crazy buying books in the past few weeks. Not all of them have even arrived yet! These are the ones I've received so far.
Brooks, Gwendolyn. The Essential Gwendolyn Brooks. Ed. Elizabeth Alexander. New York: Library of America, 2005.
I would love to teach Brooks extensively sometime rather than just a few poems from an anthology, but her Selected Poems does not include any of her work from the Black Arts Movement, which is what I am most interested in, so I ordered this collection to see if it would be suitable to use instead because it covers her entire career.
Germano, William. From Dissertation to Book. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2005.
My big writing project this summer is to revise my dissertation into book form so that I can begin submitting book proposals to publishers. I read Germano's book last night and it was quite helpful in giving me a map for going about my revisions.
Johnson, E. Patrick, and Mae G. Henderson, eds. Black Queer Studies: A Critical Anthology. Durham: Duke UP, 2005.
Amazon recommended this to me, and it looks interesting. African American literature and LGBT studies are my two scholarly foci these days, so this should be a helpful resource.
Koch, Kenneth. Kenneth Koch: Selected Poems. Ed. Ron Padgett. New York: Library of America, 2007.
I've been meaning to read Koch for years because of his close friendship with my favorite poet, Frank O'Hara. There have been numerous times in the past few years when I've almost bought this collection, but then didn't. Labyrinth Books had it on sale for $6.00 new, so I decided now was the time.
McEvoy, Seth. Samuel R. Delany. New York: Ungar, 1984.
My next book project is on Delany, so last week I ordered copies of all of the books on him that I didn't already own. Delany says in About Writing that McEvoy's book is the worst one about his work, so I won't use it much (if at all), but I like to be throrough. There is little enough criticism on Delany that one can't be choosy.
Moore, Honor, ed. Poems From the Women's Movement. New York: Library of America, 2009.
This looked really interesting when I saw it in the Labyrinth Books catalogue, and it was only $6.00. It might be fun to teach in a Rhetoric course. I am a total sucker for Library of America books because they are so aesthetically pleasing.
Puar, Jasbir K. Terrorist Assemblages: Homonationalism in Queer Times. Durham: Duke UP, 2007.
Amazon recommended this to me after I ordered Johnson and Henderson's anthology. I am very much interested in the literature of terrorism and more broadly the continuing after-effects of 9/11, so Puar's book sounds very interesting to me, though I probably won't have time to read it for a while.
Stine, Jean Marie. Season of the Witch. 1968. San Francisco: Eros, 2011.
I read about Stine's book in Thomas Disch's The Dreams our Stuff is Made Of, and it sounded interesting. I am constantly looking for examples of transgender fiction, and they are few and far between, so Stine helps fill the gap.
I've gone a little crazy buying books in the past few weeks. Not all of them have even arrived yet! These are the ones I've received so far.
Brooks, Gwendolyn. The Essential Gwendolyn Brooks. Ed. Elizabeth Alexander. New York: Library of America, 2005.
I would love to teach Brooks extensively sometime rather than just a few poems from an anthology, but her Selected Poems does not include any of her work from the Black Arts Movement, which is what I am most interested in, so I ordered this collection to see if it would be suitable to use instead because it covers her entire career.
Germano, William. From Dissertation to Book. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2005.
My big writing project this summer is to revise my dissertation into book form so that I can begin submitting book proposals to publishers. I read Germano's book last night and it was quite helpful in giving me a map for going about my revisions.
Johnson, E. Patrick, and Mae G. Henderson, eds. Black Queer Studies: A Critical Anthology. Durham: Duke UP, 2005.
Amazon recommended this to me, and it looks interesting. African American literature and LGBT studies are my two scholarly foci these days, so this should be a helpful resource.
Koch, Kenneth. Kenneth Koch: Selected Poems. Ed. Ron Padgett. New York: Library of America, 2007.
I've been meaning to read Koch for years because of his close friendship with my favorite poet, Frank O'Hara. There have been numerous times in the past few years when I've almost bought this collection, but then didn't. Labyrinth Books had it on sale for $6.00 new, so I decided now was the time.
McEvoy, Seth. Samuel R. Delany. New York: Ungar, 1984.
My next book project is on Delany, so last week I ordered copies of all of the books on him that I didn't already own. Delany says in About Writing that McEvoy's book is the worst one about his work, so I won't use it much (if at all), but I like to be throrough. There is little enough criticism on Delany that one can't be choosy.
Moore, Honor, ed. Poems From the Women's Movement. New York: Library of America, 2009.
This looked really interesting when I saw it in the Labyrinth Books catalogue, and it was only $6.00. It might be fun to teach in a Rhetoric course. I am a total sucker for Library of America books because they are so aesthetically pleasing.
Puar, Jasbir K. Terrorist Assemblages: Homonationalism in Queer Times. Durham: Duke UP, 2007.
Amazon recommended this to me after I ordered Johnson and Henderson's anthology. I am very much interested in the literature of terrorism and more broadly the continuing after-effects of 9/11, so Puar's book sounds very interesting to me, though I probably won't have time to read it for a while.
Stine, Jean Marie. Season of the Witch. 1968. San Francisco: Eros, 2011.
I read about Stine's book in Thomas Disch's The Dreams our Stuff is Made Of, and it sounded interesting. I am constantly looking for examples of transgender fiction, and they are few and far between, so Stine helps fill the gap.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Books Acquired Recently/update
Books Acquired Recently (in the order I got them)
Robert Herrick. The Works of Robert Herrick. amazon.com
National SCRABBLE Association Official Tournament and Club Word List. wordgear.com
Joe Edley and John Williams, Jr. Everything SCRABBLE. Borders
As the last two titles indicate, I've been spending lots of time playing Scrabulous on facebook. The semester ends next week, and then I will begin writing more frequently again.
Robert Herrick. The Works of Robert Herrick. amazon.com
National SCRABBLE Association Official Tournament and Club Word List. wordgear.com
Joe Edley and John Williams, Jr. Everything SCRABBLE. Borders
As the last two titles indicate, I've been spending lots of time playing Scrabulous on facebook. The semester ends next week, and then I will begin writing more frequently again.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Update/Books Acquired Recently
Well, it's been half a month since I last wrote. Part of this delay has been because I've been spending oodles of time on facebook, but mostly my lack of blogging activity is due to an increase in end-of-semester schoolwork. I will begin writing more frequently again once the school year ends after the first week of May.
In the interim, the most exciting thing that has happened is that I got an OED! I'm using it to write a paper on the high number (189) of first usages in Robert Herrick's poetry.
Books Acquired Recently
Frank O'Hara. Selected Poems. amazon.com
The Compact Oxford English Dictionary. 2nd ed. amazon.com
In the interim, the most exciting thing that has happened is that I got an OED! I'm using it to write a paper on the high number (189) of first usages in Robert Herrick's poetry.
Books Acquired Recently
Frank O'Hara. Selected Poems. amazon.com
The Compact Oxford English Dictionary. 2nd ed. amazon.com
Saturday, March 22, 2008
On the watching of baseball
I've been slowly reading through Roger Angell's Season Ticket over the past few weeks. Today I came across an intriguing statement in it from Roy Eisenhardt, former president of the Oakland A's. He says, "The delivery systems of baseball are a great concern now [...] televised baseball is is almost an auto-immune disease [...] Baseball can't really be taken in on television, because of our ingrained habits of TV-watching [which teach us to expect instant gratification ...] Baseball is a terrific radio sport by contrast, because radio feeds our imagination" (92-93).
My baseball-watching experiences jive with this statement. Although I now do a large majority of my baseball-watching via television, I would never have developed a love for baseball without first seeing it live. I became a baseball fan when my dad took me to a Mets game in 1985 when I was five years old. The Mets destroyed the Braves that day something like 13-3 or 14-4, and the two most mythical Mets of the era, Dwight Gooden and Darryl Strawberry (whose names along with those of Keith Hernandez and Gary Carter I knew even then, even though at that point in my life I knew basically nothing about the outside world), played important roles in the outcome - Strawberry hit a homerun and Doc got the win. I was hooked. It wasn't just the fact that the Mets had shown that they were an entity to be worshipped with awe and devotion which converted me, but also the communal aspect of watching the game with thousands of other excited fans. The woman sitting next to us kept yelling "Yay Darryl Strawberry!," and gave me some wafer cookies, my favorite at the time. Once I was initiated into the community, I was able to take my appreciation of baseball and apply it to my watching of it on television, but this appreciation probably never would have been developed if I had just experienced televised baseball.
Once I became a fan, I did grow to love watching the Mets on WWOR-TV Channel 9 with Ralph Kiner and Tim McCarver announcing. This was back when McCarver was still a serviceable analyst, in large part because he respected Kiner as former player and therefore didn't feel like the burden of offering inside scoops to the viewers about the game rested solely on his shoulders. Now, when he is teamed up with Joe Buck (who is the most insufferable play-by-play announcer of this era) on Fox's baseball telecasts, McCarver tries too hard, he sounds like he thinks he must be brilliant every time he opens his mouth, and as a result is just shrill and annoying.
I also loved listening to the Mets on the radio on WFAN 660 with Bob Murphy, and later Gary Cohen. Aside from the food and the people, the thing I miss most about New York City is WFAN. In junior high I would come home from school and spend the afternoon listening to "Mike and the Mad Dog," and during the winter I would listen to Rangers hockey games at night with Marv Albert or Howie Rose doing play-by-play alongside Sal "Red Light" Messina. During the 1993-94 season when the Rangers won the Stanley Cup, I listened to so many of their games that I learned the Canadian national anthem by heart, something I've still been unable to do with "The Star-Spangled Banner," which is the worst national anthem ever - "America the Beautiful" would be a much better choice.
My baseball-watching experiences jive with this statement. Although I now do a large majority of my baseball-watching via television, I would never have developed a love for baseball without first seeing it live. I became a baseball fan when my dad took me to a Mets game in 1985 when I was five years old. The Mets destroyed the Braves that day something like 13-3 or 14-4, and the two most mythical Mets of the era, Dwight Gooden and Darryl Strawberry (whose names along with those of Keith Hernandez and Gary Carter I knew even then, even though at that point in my life I knew basically nothing about the outside world), played important roles in the outcome - Strawberry hit a homerun and Doc got the win. I was hooked. It wasn't just the fact that the Mets had shown that they were an entity to be worshipped with awe and devotion which converted me, but also the communal aspect of watching the game with thousands of other excited fans. The woman sitting next to us kept yelling "Yay Darryl Strawberry!," and gave me some wafer cookies, my favorite at the time. Once I was initiated into the community, I was able to take my appreciation of baseball and apply it to my watching of it on television, but this appreciation probably never would have been developed if I had just experienced televised baseball.
Once I became a fan, I did grow to love watching the Mets on WWOR-TV Channel 9 with Ralph Kiner and Tim McCarver announcing. This was back when McCarver was still a serviceable analyst, in large part because he respected Kiner as former player and therefore didn't feel like the burden of offering inside scoops to the viewers about the game rested solely on his shoulders. Now, when he is teamed up with Joe Buck (who is the most insufferable play-by-play announcer of this era) on Fox's baseball telecasts, McCarver tries too hard, he sounds like he thinks he must be brilliant every time he opens his mouth, and as a result is just shrill and annoying.
I also loved listening to the Mets on the radio on WFAN 660 with Bob Murphy, and later Gary Cohen. Aside from the food and the people, the thing I miss most about New York City is WFAN. In junior high I would come home from school and spend the afternoon listening to "Mike and the Mad Dog," and during the winter I would listen to Rangers hockey games at night with Marv Albert or Howie Rose doing play-by-play alongside Sal "Red Light" Messina. During the 1993-94 season when the Rangers won the Stanley Cup, I listened to so many of their games that I learned the Canadian national anthem by heart, something I've still been unable to do with "The Star-Spangled Banner," which is the worst national anthem ever - "America the Beautiful" would be a much better choice.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Books Acquired Recently
Books Acquired Recently (again!)
South Street. David Bradley. Used from amazon.com. I recently read Bradley's other novel, The Chaneysville Incident, and it was so good I felt the need to acquire South Street as well.
The Norton Reader. 12th ed. Ed. Linda H. Peterson and John C. Brereton. Free examination copy from the publisher. I might use this for the English 104: Rhetoric and Composition II class I am teaching this summer.
South Street. David Bradley. Used from amazon.com. I recently read Bradley's other novel, The Chaneysville Incident, and it was so good I felt the need to acquire South Street as well.
The Norton Reader. 12th ed. Ed. Linda H. Peterson and John C. Brereton. Free examination copy from the publisher. I might use this for the English 104: Rhetoric and Composition II class I am teaching this summer.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Books Acquired Recently
Books Acquired Recently
All of these were given to me for my birthday yesterday. All but the last two are fiction. I list them in no particular order.
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. Sherman Alexie.
The Time In Between. David Bergen.
Drown. Junot Diaz.
The All-True Travels and Adventures of Lidie Newton. Jane Smiley.
Dangerous Laughter: 13 Stories. Steven Millhauser.
The Literature of Modern Arabia: An Anthology. Ed. Salma Khadra Jayyusi.
Uncontained: Urban Fiction in Postwar America. Elizabeth A. Wheeler.
Pandolfini's Chess Challenges: 111 Winning Endgames. Bruce Pandolfini.
All of these were given to me for my birthday yesterday. All but the last two are fiction. I list them in no particular order.
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. Sherman Alexie.
The Time In Between. David Bergen.
Drown. Junot Diaz.
The All-True Travels and Adventures of Lidie Newton. Jane Smiley.
Dangerous Laughter: 13 Stories. Steven Millhauser.
The Literature of Modern Arabia: An Anthology. Ed. Salma Khadra Jayyusi.
Uncontained: Urban Fiction in Postwar America. Elizabeth A. Wheeler.
Pandolfini's Chess Challenges: 111 Winning Endgames. Bruce Pandolfini.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Books Acquired Recently
Today begins a new periodic feature in which I list for your viewing pleasure books that I have recently acquired. This is mostly so I can show off my love for book acquisition, but also because I don't feel like writing about anything else right now. Also, please note that this practice is shamelessly stolen from Nick Hornby's Believer column.
Books Acquired Recently (and where from)
Contemporary Fiction: 50 Short Stories Since 1970. Ed. Lex Williford and Michael Martone. Borders. (Quite good so far; I may actually assign it to one of my classes.)
The Naked and the Dead. Norman Mailer. Borders.
In Cold Blood. Truman Capote. Borders.
Incidentally, two topics I considered writing about were:
1. the writer Janet Kauffman (because she has a story in the above-mentioned anthology, "Patriotic"), who is one of my favorites, but more for her beautifully-crafted work than its thought-provoking-ness;
2. Christopher Hitchens' recent Slate column about why the British military should not have withdrawn Prince Harry from Afghanistan (http://www.slate.com/id/2186186?GT1=3800). Hitchens is either brilliant or a complete idiot, depending on what he's writing about. When he writes about politics, he's usually an idiot (e.g., he loves the Iraq war), but in this column he is spot on.
Books Acquired Recently (and where from)
Contemporary Fiction: 50 Short Stories Since 1970. Ed. Lex Williford and Michael Martone. Borders. (Quite good so far; I may actually assign it to one of my classes.)
The Naked and the Dead. Norman Mailer. Borders.
In Cold Blood. Truman Capote. Borders.
Incidentally, two topics I considered writing about were:
1. the writer Janet Kauffman (because she has a story in the above-mentioned anthology, "Patriotic"), who is one of my favorites, but more for her beautifully-crafted work than its thought-provoking-ness;
2. Christopher Hitchens' recent Slate column about why the British military should not have withdrawn Prince Harry from Afghanistan (http://www.slate.com/id/2186186?GT1=3800). Hitchens is either brilliant or a complete idiot, depending on what he's writing about. When he writes about politics, he's usually an idiot (e.g., he loves the Iraq war), but in this column he is spot on.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Kunzru's "Raj, Bohemian" and thoughts on lifestyle and the self
There is an excellent story in this week's New Yorker (10 March 2008), "Raj, Bohemian" by Hari Kunzru, about an urban hipster who realizes that his "taste had been central to my identity" (114). As a result, he has no self other than the objects he acquires and the carefully considered acts (where to eat, what parties to go to, how to dress, etc.) he executes, which unwittingly become performance art pieces rather than natural maneuvers. So he is only living synthetically. He laments that "what I thought had been an expression of my innermost humanity was nothing but a cloud of life-style signals, available to anyone at the click of a mouse" (114).
This conclusion struck me because 1. the speaker realizes that he has no humanity left, he is just a pawn (chess metaphor!) in the capitalist system, but more importantly 2. it made me question the role of "the click[s] of a mouse" in my life and whether they fulfill some sort of genuine self-defining role (which I view positively; this positive view of one's essential self as somehow pure and good and something to be preserved and fostered may be problematic, but for my purposes here I will accept this view as a given), or whether they are merely "life-style signals" (which is a negative in this model). Let's examine three internet activities I frequently engage in to try and answer this question.
1. amazon.com - My frequent amazoning is an essential part of my book-buying addiction. So the question is, is this addiction an integral part of myself, or is it just a "life-style signal"? While the search for knowledge, which I still prefer to gain from books rather than via electronic means, is certainly an essential part of who I am, I love emitting the persona of a well-read intellectual. I would like to think that I can actually claim this description of myself, but I have to admit that aside from engaging in activities (e.g., getting my doctorate) that help me fit in to this description, I like to also have my chock-full, sagging, meticulously organized bookshelves visible to everyone to help enforce this claim. Books are valuable to me as decor, not just as sources of knowledge. This is why I never use libraries except for professional research, preferring to buy my books rather than rent them. So I have to say that my online book-buying is more of a "life-style signal" than a necessary expression of myself.
2. blogging - I think my reasons for blogging are fairly honorable - I do it to improve my writing, I'm not worried about whether or not I have a big (or any) audience (note my willingness to write often about sports, which nearly all of my friends disdain), and I do it to become a better writing teacher, since to be a good teacher you must also be a frequent practitioner in your field. So even though it may be fashionable to have a web presence, it is fair to say that I don't blog just to be hip or current.
3. facebook - While my initial ardor for facebook has cooled a bit in the past few days - I no longer feel a compulsion to check it every five minutes - I am still very much enthralled with it. I have to say that it was peer pressure which finally caused me to set up an account, not my own volition. So even though I genuinely enjoy facebook now, I can't escape that being a member is solidly in the "life-style signal" category.
Ergo, the majority of my internet activity is not motivated by an interest in self-definition and -improvement, but by attempts to appear cool. I will not deal with the question of what should be done about this state of affairs here, but it is interesting to note that the protagonist of Kunzru's story goes back to a "life-style signal" driven existence at the story's end because he cannot figure out how to escape this paradigm.
This conclusion struck me because 1. the speaker realizes that he has no humanity left, he is just a pawn (chess metaphor!) in the capitalist system, but more importantly 2. it made me question the role of "the click[s] of a mouse" in my life and whether they fulfill some sort of genuine self-defining role (which I view positively; this positive view of one's essential self as somehow pure and good and something to be preserved and fostered may be problematic, but for my purposes here I will accept this view as a given), or whether they are merely "life-style signals" (which is a negative in this model). Let's examine three internet activities I frequently engage in to try and answer this question.
1. amazon.com - My frequent amazoning is an essential part of my book-buying addiction. So the question is, is this addiction an integral part of myself, or is it just a "life-style signal"? While the search for knowledge, which I still prefer to gain from books rather than via electronic means, is certainly an essential part of who I am, I love emitting the persona of a well-read intellectual. I would like to think that I can actually claim this description of myself, but I have to admit that aside from engaging in activities (e.g., getting my doctorate) that help me fit in to this description, I like to also have my chock-full, sagging, meticulously organized bookshelves visible to everyone to help enforce this claim. Books are valuable to me as decor, not just as sources of knowledge. This is why I never use libraries except for professional research, preferring to buy my books rather than rent them. So I have to say that my online book-buying is more of a "life-style signal" than a necessary expression of myself.
2. blogging - I think my reasons for blogging are fairly honorable - I do it to improve my writing, I'm not worried about whether or not I have a big (or any) audience (note my willingness to write often about sports, which nearly all of my friends disdain), and I do it to become a better writing teacher, since to be a good teacher you must also be a frequent practitioner in your field. So even though it may be fashionable to have a web presence, it is fair to say that I don't blog just to be hip or current.
3. facebook - While my initial ardor for facebook has cooled a bit in the past few days - I no longer feel a compulsion to check it every five minutes - I am still very much enthralled with it. I have to say that it was peer pressure which finally caused me to set up an account, not my own volition. So even though I genuinely enjoy facebook now, I can't escape that being a member is solidly in the "life-style signal" category.
Ergo, the majority of my internet activity is not motivated by an interest in self-definition and -improvement, but by attempts to appear cool. I will not deal with the question of what should be done about this state of affairs here, but it is interesting to note that the protagonist of Kunzru's story goes back to a "life-style signal" driven existence at the story's end because he cannot figure out how to escape this paradigm.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Free books
Today and tomorrow is the Northern Illinois University English Department's book fair, which means that instructors such as myself get to persuade publisher reps to give us free books that we will supposedly consider using in the courses we teach. Of course at least two-thirds of the books we (instructors) request copies of are really for our personal use, we have no intention of considering them for course usage. But this common-knowledge fact is part of the dance - they throw books at us, and if we think they are quick enough to do so we seriously consider using one of their books (of the half-dozen or so they've given us).
Most of the publisher reps know their role in the dance and play it well, but the guy from W.W. Norton is a notorious miser. This is especially vexing because Norton has the best books - I would actually consider teaching with some of them, but he often won't give out examination copies even if they are legitimate requests. One must be at one's persuasive best to score off of him.
But aside from the evil Norton guy, the book fair is wonderful. It is always in early March, so it feels like a harbinger of spring.
Most of the publisher reps know their role in the dance and play it well, but the guy from W.W. Norton is a notorious miser. This is especially vexing because Norton has the best books - I would actually consider teaching with some of them, but he often won't give out examination copies even if they are legitimate requests. One must be at one's persuasive best to score off of him.
But aside from the evil Norton guy, the book fair is wonderful. It is always in early March, so it feels like a harbinger of spring.
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