Isak is a space to celebrate tales and truth in the curious, joyful way embodied by the writer--Isak Dinesen--for which it is named.
By tales, I mean fiction (especially short fiction), as well as other literary and artistic narratives. By truths, I mean the world in which we live. I especially have my eye on creative social justice.
Leonard Gardner: Fat City A book that still excites me every time I page through it, though I first read it a year ago. Gardner’s novel thrives on contradictions. His characters say what they don’t mean, hope for what they don’t want, and act in ways that hurt themselves and those that they attempt, ever so slightly, to love. And the novel comes together splendidly.
Read my full review here.
Stephen King: On Writing It's a great book--partly on his life, partly on language, and wholly on how the two intersect. King is hilarious, imaginative ... and his insane work ethic is evident on every page. He's also got a finally tuned bullshit-detector, which charmed me right off.
Read my full review here.
George Orwell: Down and Out in Paris and London George Orwell is a damn good writer. Sure, he whipped out 1984 and Animal Farm, but it's from his essays and nonfiction that I'm learning Orwellian tricks--and by that I mean, the very best sort of craft points. Read my full review here.
Charles Baudelaire: Twenty Prose Poems Such ambition did nothing to stifle his sense of humor--evident just from his titles, which range from "Get Drunk!" to "The Soup and the Clouds" to "Let's Beat Up the Poor." Baudelaire's got a love of wordplay and a taste for epiphany. The doubleness manifested in his very genre--prose poem--finds constant textual echoes, from his scathing remarks on hypocrisy to his sight for the strange oppositions alive in Paris in the mid-nineteenth century. I was particularly struck by the image at the end of "The Double Room" (natch)...
Read my full review here.
Wendy Wasserstein: The Heidi Chronicles: Uncommon Women and Others & Isn't It Romantic The voices ring in my mind, after several reads of this play since last summer; the dialogue is remarkably honest, funny, and just plain old interesting. Rarely have I come across stories and plays where the human instincts to demarcate characters with sharp lines ("she's the funny one,"he's the misunderstood one") is so futile as here; the characters' many-sidedness is made plain on every page. Read my full appreciation here.
Andrea Barrett: Ship Fever Smart extended stories, drawing from the most intriguing moments in natural history and adventuring. In my mind, Andrea Barrett challenges Alice Munro for the most talented living story writer in English.
Mikhail Bulgakov: The Master and Margarita Featuring the personalities of Pontius Pilate, a life-size cat, Satan, and a master writer, this is a novel of Moscow gone mad with literality and fantasy. It shares the curious juxtaposition of being both one of the most powerful Soviet protest texts, and the inspiration for the song "Sympathy for the Devil."
Anton Chekhov: Stories of Anton Chekhov How could you not? Honestly, it took me awhile to appreciate the genius of Chekhov's stories, but it was only a matter of time.
Dorothy Day: Dorothy Day: Selected Writings A well-edited text of Day's writing, and her life committed to a personalist approach to poverty and active nonviolence. I never was stunned by her writing, by I found myself reaching for it again and again. There's something that keeps calling me back to it...
Anne Michaels: Fugitive Pieces A novel I'd never heard of, by a writer I'd never heard of, mailed to me unexpectedly by a British fellow I'd only known for two weeks. Now, when people throw that "favorite book" question at me, I always, always name this one.
Marilynne Robinson: Gilead I bought this novel as a hardcover, without ever having read a word of Robinson's writing before. A rare case. And beyond worth it.
Alison Bechdel: Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic Fun Home is a timeshifting, living memory sort of story that leaves the chains of chronology far behind ... Bechdel plays at the ideas of artiface and fiction, using Camus, Proust, Nin, Fitzgerald and many other writers to tell the story of the 'reality' of the love, pain, and identity in a bookish family. Read my full review here.
Maurice Manning: Bucolics Haunting and funny, innovative and heartening, this collection of seventy untitled, unpunctuated poems features a nameless narrator talking to his creator, whom he calls 'boss.' It moves like a reverie and it strikes deep. Read my full review here.
Charles D'Ambrosio: Orphans The eleven essays are haunting, hallucinatory, and so sharp-eyed that it rattles the bones. D'Ambrosio moves among landscapes like a watchful ghost--from oddball modular homes in Washington state, to the infamous Hell House, from Seattle in 1974 to a Russian orphanage, from a tent on a cold ocean beach to a utopian experiment in small town Texas to a courthouse multiplex where a teacher's on trial for becoming pregnant by her 13-year-old student. Read my full review here.
Edith Wharton: House of Mirth I tell you, it was fraught; this is a great book that I viscerally responded to. So engrossing is the tale of Lily Bart and New York society at the turn of the twentieth century, we ended up bringing that second copy home and continuing to read til 3 a.m (there was a short spaghetti break). Read my full review here.
The Autobiography of Malcolm X : As Told to Alex Haley On the forty-third anniversary of Malcolm X's murder, I wrote about his life, his legacy and the warped way I'd learned of both until I read this brilliant book. Read it (that is, my reflection) here.
Per Petterson: Out Stealing Horses And time: Petterson's collage of chronology plays like a human memory, feeding on associations and surprising juxtapositions, making the familiar revelatory. It is crafted of many long lines and leaps of moodiness and knowing. There is suspense and mystery in Out Stealing Horses--but it hardly moves like a step-by-step thriller; Petterson performs the writerly miracle of making mysterious what we already know has happened. And that "what" that has happened isn't itself easily defined, even as I can feel it's weight. See my full review here.
... The question of whether single-gender awards are still needed to
transform a literary culture comes amid a boom of fiction written by
women, including what's characterized as "chick lit." Women also form
the majority of U.S. book-buyers and are becoming the majority in
publishing house staffs.
(Orange Prize co-founder Kate Mosse) said the issue is not the number of books authored by women but
the shortage of those books by women that are honored and promoted by
literary culture. That is how books get in the hands of readers, and
how the canon of literature is built.
I'm amused by the Google searches that have led recent visitors to this website. I couldn't make this up. Isak has been one of the top items turned up by Googling the following phrases:
prison industrial complex levi's victoria secret
Uwem Akpan
fellowships for writers
nobody in paris and london
peoms about sisters-in-law (sic)
none van isak
happy 35th birthday quotes
Malcolm X, glasses (on www.google.nl)
three guineas, summary (on www.google.de)
raymond carver "the bath" (on www.google.cz)
no country for old men does carla die
comparison of Isak Dinesen and virginia woolf
peaceful place for rest in sydney
albert camus reflections on the guillotine
joan didion t-shirt (from www.google.co.uk)
O, ye varied seekers! O, hilarity! O, if only I could offer you all what you are looking for!
"Drive," The Cars (By the way, if you haven't heard Ziggy Marley's cover of the song, what are you waiting for?)
"Love is a Battlefield," Pat Benetar
"Born in the USA," Bruce Springsteen; I can't embed the video, alas, because of some copyright issue. But the link will take you to it, and it's well worth the trip. This the song infamously misunderstood when President Ronald Reagan tried to use it has his presidential campaign theme in 1984; Republican nominee Bob Dole did use it as his campaign theme in 1996. In both cases, Springsteen took pains to publicly distance himself from the candidates; making clear that he did not endorse Reagan or Dole.
What's hilarious is that the campaigns must've missed the criticism of the Vietnam war in "Born in the USA," so subtle in lyrics like: "Got in a little hometown jam/So they put a rifle in my hand/Sent me off to a foreign land/To go and kill the yellow man" and "I had a brother at Khe Sahn/Fighting off the Viet Cong/They're still there, he's all gone." The song follows the point-of-view of a weary Vietnam vet who can't get a brak in the "land of opportunity." Springsteen has compared the misunderstanding of his fantastic song to the public understanding of Woody Guthrie's "This Land is Your Land"--which Guthrie wrote in response to Irving Berlin's "God Bless America" and was meant to articulate "what America could have been about" rather than what it is (so far).
Nelson Mandela spent the 1980s in prison--the last decade of his 27-years behind bars at Robben Island. His crime? He'd been a South African anti-apartheid activist and leader of the African National Congress. Notably, his arrest in 1962 was made possible by a tip from the CIA. Mandela was convicted on charges of armed sabotage. And well, yes, he sabotaged.
From Mandela's statement at a trial before the Supreme Court in 1964:
During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to the struggle of the
African people. I have fought against white domination, and I have
fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a
democratic and free society in which all persons live together in
harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to
live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am
prepared to die
As an inmate, Mandela came to symbolize international anti-apartheid activism in the 1980s--the time when the decades-long movement that goes back even further than the Sharpeville massacre--came to a head in the U.S. The movement's primary tactic was to lobby businesses and investors to cut off its financial ties to South Africa until it dismantled apartheid.
The successful nonviolent international movement was one of the greatest we've ever seen. From Susan Collin Marks' remembrance at Common Ground News:
Few people who look back at those dark days
recall that militant nonviolence was the key tool in the struggle
against apartheid and, in the end, precipitated a negotiated revolution
instead of the widely anticipated carnage. The scope and creativity of
methods employed by anti-apartheid activists in the 1980s amounted to
what the theologian Walter Wink describes as “probably the largest
grassroots eruption of diverse nonviolent strategies in a single
struggle in human history.”
Hunger strikes ended the mass use of the detention without trial, and
protests against beach apartheid showed up the injustice of segregation
and the unacceptability of police action. Gandhi’s legacy loomed large
as economic boycotts of white businesses, court actions that challenged
apartheid laws, rent boycotts, demonstrations, and marches proliferated.
Particularly on college campuses, the anti-apartheid movement gained in momentum in the 1980s--students demanded that their universities and colleges cease investments, operations, and trades in South Africa. And the thing is: it worked. Hampshire College was the first to disinvest. Harvard began a (slow) process of ending its relationship with the apartheid government. The University of California withdrew its full three billion dollars, a move that, according to Wikipedia, Nelson Mandela credited as being a particularly strong action towards "abolishing white-minority rule in South Africa."
By 1988, 155 colleges were fully or partially divested, thanks to the anti-apartheid movement.
Cities got on board too, as activists turned their attentions to local legislators. According to researcher Richard Knight, "by the end of 1989 26 states, 22 counties and over 90 cities had taken
some form of binding economic action against companies doing business
in South Africa." Among them was San Francisco.
Local and college action led to federal action in the 1980s, including the Comprehensive Anti-Apartheid Act and the Budget Reconciliation Act.
Hell, the movement grew so strong in the U.S., it even showed up on television. It wasn't until I was much older that I realized that it was no coincidence that in "The Cosby Show," Sandra and Alvin's twins are named Nelson and Winnie. Theo, meanwhile, had an anti-apartheid sign in his room. And several episodes of "A Different World" cheered on the movement; in one episode Kim chooses to reject a substantial scholarship from a company that hasn't divested from South Africa. She takes a second job--working nights at a funeral parlor--to earn the money to pay for her pre-med classes.
In 1990, the African National Congress was unbanned in South Africa and Nelson Mandela was released from prison. It was the first step towards years of truth-in-reconciliation and negotiations that transformed the country--and, I daresay, the world. In 1994, in a peaceful democratic election, Mandela was chosen by the people to be president.
Again, from Susan Collin Marks' article:
This spiritual dimension is perhaps the X factor
in the South African equation. “Any social scientist would expect 98%
of blacks to hate whites and wish retribution, and yet the reality is
the reverse,” said University of Cape Town political scientist Robert
Schrire after the peaceful 1994 election. “And since we cannot explain
it rationally, we will have to regard it as one of the great miracles
of the South African dilemma.”
That's true. But still, though apartheid's officially ended in South Africa, and
Mandela's a free man, we can't say that everything's
'fixed.' Consider the repulsive comments to the above video on YouTube,
left within the last two weeks:
ahh the things you see when you havent got a sniper rifle :(
lol at that black prick behind bars.....where he belongs!!
mandela is a pedo scum england and st george.
Nelson Mandela will celebrate his 90th birthday this Friday, July 18. Happy birthday to him, and thank you to all the anti-apartheid activists for the better world we have today.
The legendary--and literary--Japanese filmmaker discussed the idea-ness of his films in a 1986 interview for Cineaste magazine. By the time of this conversation, Kurosawa had made 27 films, including 1980's "Kagemusha" and 1985's "Ran." "Ran" won him a nomination for a Best Director Academy Award, which somehow seems besides the point.
What follows is an excerpt of the interview, but check out the whole thing here. It's worth noting that this interview was translated into English. Not by me, you may be thankful. By the dude who talked up Kurosawa.
Cineaste: Once you said that the most important thing for young people aspiring to become directors was to read world classics. Do you still believe so?
Kurosawa: Definitely. To read everything is almost impossible, so you must find writers that you like. Then, to find favorite works of these writers, and read them again and again. Therefore, your understanding of the characters in these works is deepened. One’s level of understanding after reading a work once, and after reading it ten times, is naturally different. ...
…Balzac once said that the most important thing for novelists is to put up with the boring labor of writing line after line of the letters of the alphabet. These young people are not patient enough.… Furthermore, they don’t want to make the effort even to read novels. Though they believe themselves talented, they have nothing to show for it. ...
…Reading and writing should become habitual; otherwise, it is difficult. Nowadays, young assistant directors do not write screenplays, claiming that they are too busy. I used to write all the time. On location, a chief assistant director’s work was extremely hard and busy, so I used to write at midnight, in bed. I could easily sell such screenplays, and make more than my assistant directors salary. It meant that I could drink more. Therefore, I wrote, and I drank, then, when I got broke, I wrote again. My friends were waiting for me to write screenplays and make money for drinking. When we went to drink, we talked about films all the time. ...
Billie Holiday’s burned voice had as many shadows as lights, a mournful candelabra against a sleek piano, the gardenia her signature under that ruined face.
(Now you’re cooking, drummer to bass, magic spoon, magic needle. Take all day if you have to with your mirror and your bracelet of song.)
Fact is, the invention of women under siege has been to sharpen love in the service of myth.
If you can’t be free, be a mystery.
Flirtation
After all, there’s no need to say anything
at first. An orange, peeled and quartered, flares
like a tulip on a wedgewood plate Anything can happen.
Outside the sun has rolled up her rugs
and night strewn salt across the sky. My heart
is humming a tune I haven’t heard in years!
Quiet’s cool flesh— let’s sniff and eat it.
There are ways to make of the moment
a topiary so the pleasure’s in
walking through.
"Canary" is from Rita Dove's collection, Grace Notes(1989); "Flirtation" is from Dove's second poetry collection, Museum (1981). Dove was born in Akron, Ohio in 1952. Her poetic debut came at the birth of the eighties; she published her first book of poems, The Yellow House on the Corner, in 1980. Seven years later, she won the Pulitzer Prize forThomas and Beulah.
In 1993 Dove became poet laureate of the United States, the first African-American woman to hold that role, and, at forty, the youngest to hold it. She's also written short fiction, lyrics, and plays, the poetry is her primary medium and language, a favorite tool. She teaches today at the University of Virginia, that lucky school.
I've always been obsessed by the voices that are not normally heard. I
think it comes from the women I knew as a child, the women in the
kitchen who told the best stories. They knew how the world worked,
about human nature, and they were wise, are wise. When you are
marginalized in any way—race, gender, age, class—you must learn to
listen and pay attention very carefully if you are going to survive,
and—women have known this since time immemorial—you have to anticipate
what is expected of you, what you can get away with, how far you can
push yourself. That makes you an extremely sensitive human being. It's
the lemonade you get out of the lemons.
Who will argue with me when I say that Raymond Carver is one of best story writers we've had? The very form of the short story was revived in the 1980s, and Carver was a big reason why. What We Talk About When We Talk About Love,Cathedral, and Elephant are the collections he published in the last decade of the Oregon native's life. Today, it seems that Carver is more often read one story at a time; "Cathedral" in one anthology, "The Bath" in another. It's certainly how I became acquainted him. But I think there's a loss here, to pull popular stories out of there context. Just like the album of number-one Beatles hits is hardly a fully colored representation of who they were as a band, so is Carver as a writer shortchanged when his work is known more by an anthology listing than for the whole collections he put together. He becomes the 'minimalist' in comparison to the stories around him, and in that label is somewhat minimized.
For some reason, Carver's life and work as a poet is less-acknowledged--a shame, because from what I've read, he was good. Where Water Comes Together With Other Water, Ultramarine, and, posthumously, A New Path To The Waterfall were the poetry collection he published in the 1980s
In 1989, the year after Carver died, Daisy Goodwin made the short British documentary on Carver called "Dreams Are What We Wake Up From." It features interviews with Ella Carver (the author's mother), Richard Ford, and Jay McInerney. Wonderfully, you can see it in parts online. Here are the first two:
Funny story about how I came to write my latest article: "Let's Get it Started," on the craft of titling, is the main feature in the current issue of Writers' Journal. (The article is not available online, but you can pick up a copy of the magazine in bookstores, or else here.)
See, I couldn't come up with a title for my graduate thesis, a collection of five stories. I was stumped. While the connections among my stories was clear to me, it didn't seem to be the stuff of pithy titles; there were no common characters, or landscapes, or even centuries. I brainstormed a list of about 30 possible titles with another writer friend of mine, and you know what? They were lame. And I complained about why the hell nobody talks to writers about titling in any thoughtful way. In five semesters in my grad program, and nine semesters in an undergrad writing program, it never came up. Which is weird, because titling is as much of a craft point as anything else. But too often it's treated by writers as an afterthought. For myself, I often retreated behind safe and nondescript nouns. Consider the not-so-memorable fictional effort: "The Daughter." (Though, to be sure, the noun title is sometimes the perfect choice. You'll have to read the article for details. Or, you know, ask me.)
So, what does a writer do when she feels her lack of a skill? Figure out what other writers do and learn from it. Said writer friend of mine and I put together titles that work really well for the fiction it presents. On the table were To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, The Razor's Edge by W. Somerset Maugham, Their Eyes Were Watching Godby Zora Neale Hurston, as well as Donald Barthelme's Forty Stories and Susan Minot's Lust and Other Stories.
And we talked about why they worked.
And, still being a student in my final semester, obliged to turn in at least 12 annotation papers to my supervisor on craft points, I poured out my newly inspired thoughts into a triple-annotation (that is, I turned in something three times the normal length).
And my supervisor, Steven Schwartz, said my annotations are voiced a lot like craft articles, and maybe I should think about sending them out.
And I did.
And here we are.
"Let's Get It Started" begins like this:
Why do so many writers stink at titles? It
seems that many titles aren't chosen so much as they are a point of retreat.
While 'simple' is not an inherent evil in the art of titling, copping-out is. It's as if we've spent so much time
on our stories or novel or poems, we haven't got a drop of inspiration left for
title brainstorming. Which is unfortunate, because failure to use a good title
equates into passing on the opportunity to fill out stories, to amp up the
reader's experience of the text, or even to have our stories read at all.
We can do better.
And
the most efficient way to grasp the wide range of titling techniques, it seems
to me, is with a map of possibilities.
I go on to write out the implication of different titling strategies for the work at hand. For example:
3. The Inverted Title
In a neat syntactical shift, the Inverted Title draws more power than the plain-English way of saying the same thing. While it's common for the Inverted Title to feature an adjective-noun structure shifted into a noun-adjective, other possibilities abound.
Why choose the Inverted Title? It's memorable, first of all. Also, if you want to elevate your text into the realm of archetype, this is a good way to do it. Take John Coltrane's album, A Love Supreme (okay, it's not literature, but it works just the same, doesn't it?). Coltrane's title implies not a particular supreme love between individuals, but a greater state of love, an archetype of which we might all taste a bit. Coltrane's Inverted Tile isn't merely a snazzy trick to stand out among other titles; it actually sharpens the listener's understanding of his music.
Another way the Inverted Title facilitates how we approach a text is by shifting the point of emphasis. For example, in Percy Bysshe Shelley's Prometheus Unbound, the Inverted Title emphasizes not the mythological character himself, but his state of being. This titling strategy, then, adds movement to what otherwise would've been flat. The Unbound Prometheus, anyone? Please.
Examples:
Tender is the Night, by F. Scott Fitzgerald A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess Paradise Lost, by John Milton
Oh yes, and my fiction thesis? I called it "Five Stories of Wishful Thinking." To be numerically modified when I finish the full collection: "Twelve Stories of Wishful Thinking."
The top-selling fiction titles for the year, according to The New York Times, invites some bemused "of course" nods and some surprising juxtapositions. I mean, I didn't realize Margaret Atwood's title was as popular as it was, fairly soon after it was published and before, I presume, it became a mainstay of a thousands of lit class syllabuses. I'm cheered considerably by the news.
Bestselling Paperback Fiction of 1987
1.''Red Storm Rising'' by Tom Clancy (Berkley).
2.''The Hunt for Red October'' by Tom Clancy. (Berkley).
3.''Wanderlust'' by Danielle Steel (Dell).
4.''It'' by Stephen King (Signet/NAL).
5.''I'll Take Manhattan'' by Judith Krantz (Bantam).
6.''Garden of Shadows'' by V. C. Andrews (Pocket Books).
7.''Windmills of the Gods'' by Sidney Sheldon (Warner Books).
8.''The Bourne Supremacy'' by Robert Ludlum (Bantam).
9.''The Handmaid's Tale'' by Margaret Atwood (Fawcett).
For myself, I admire much of King's writing and certainly his work ethic. His On Writing remains one of my favorite books on craft (I say why in my review), and his speech upon accepting the National Book Award's lifetime achievement award is persistently cheer-worthy. The words "Right on!" may or may not have escaped my lips when I read this.
I salute
the National Book Foundation Board, who took a huge risk
in giving this award to a man many people see as a rich
hack. For far too long the so-called popular writers of
this country and the so-called literary writers have stared
at each other with animosity and a willful lack of understanding.
But giving an award like this to a guy like me suggests
that in the future things don't have to be the way they've
always been. Bridges can be built between the so-called
popular fiction and the so-called literary fiction. The
first gainers in such a widening of interest would be the
readers, of course ...
Tokenism is not allowed. You can't sit back, give a self
satisfied sigh and say, "Ah, that takes care of the
troublesome pop lit question. In another twenty years or
perhaps thirty, we'll give this award to another writer
who sells enough books to make the best seller lists."
It's not good enough. Nor do I have any patience with or
use for those who make a point of pride in saying they've
never read anything by John Grisham, Tom Clancy, Mary Higgins
Clark or any other popular writer.
What do you think? You get social or academic brownie points
for deliberately staying out of touch with your own culture?
Simone De Beauvoir: The Second Sex This book is peculiar and dense--heartening and illuminating at points; at others odd, what with its 50-year-old biology. Read my full review here.
A.S. Byatt: Angels & Insects: Two Novellas Ol' Isak would've loved A.S. Byatt. Byatt's tales are full of spit and spirit--and she seems to have a particular interest in looping narratives. Read my full review here.
Alice Munro: Runaway She’s a woman, a Canadian and a short story writer. But that hasn’t stopped Alice Munro from taking her rightful place in Western literature’s so-called canon. Read my full review here.
Richard Bausch: The Stories of Richard Bausch There’s one kind of ending that I’ve been thinking about since I read through The Stories of Richard Bausch: the “unfinished” ending. Read my full review here.
Mary Gordon: The Stories of Mary Gordon They're inventive, funny, and compassionate stories. Rare among contemporary writers, Gordon is unafraid to focus on class, work, and politics. Read my full review here.
The Low Countries: Arts and Society in Flanders and the Netherlands, No. 13 I'm struck by the premise of this book. This is a culture driven to articulate its worth in an annual publication, in any way it can--poems, prose, images. Yes, there's a bit of a tour guide element to the book, but I'll tell you what... Read my full review here.
Giles Slade: Made to Break: Technology and Obsolescence in America This book represents a phenomenal organization of a massive amount of information. With a staggering assortment of primary sources, Slade produces 281 pages that are clear, concise, and unite product histories that previously seemed, to me anyway, separate. Read my full review here.
Fyodor Dostoevsky: The Double The Double (1848) is the last book I finished before officially launching my current fanaticism for George Orwell. But lest it be overlooked, I want to note the worth of this strange little book. Read my full review here.
Umberto Eco: The Name of the Rose: including the Author's Postscript It's full of hybrid narrative forms--a phenomenon that crosses with Eco's wordplay dynamics. It is a novel somehow holds the forms of philosophical treatises and dialogues, theological arguments, historical text, and testimony from doomed inquisitions and trials. Read my full review here.
Lydia Davis: Samuel Johnson Is Indignant Davis consistently denies readers the trademark identifiers of stories—names, and to some extent, individualized characters; dialogue, or character interaction; direct scene; action; plot. Read my full review here.
Marguerite Abouet: AYA Aya is something totally different, and charming in its own way. Read my full review here.
Caryl Rivers: Selling Anxiety: How the News Media Scare Women Selling Anxiety is a slim book packed with important facts, but it's clear that it came out in a rush. ... I got the impression that Rivers wanted to respond rapidly and strongly to the trend stories of the moment. She succeeds, and the book's quite timely, but I found myself wanting more from the just-the-facts prose. Read my full review here.
Joseph Campbell: Myths to Live By In essays that spin off Campbell's speeches before the Cooper Union Forum between 1958 and 1971, it's unsurprising that most passionate and intelligent piece in Myths To Live By spins off the first landing on the moon in 1969. Read my full review here.
Virginia Woolf: Three Guineas (Annotated) Woolf extends her ideas on gender and economics to include the prevention of war. Written during the Spanish Civil War, and as Hitler and Mussolini moved to extend their dominion, Woolf receives a letter from a pacifist organization asking for her membership, her financial donation, and her opinion on how our society can prevent the brutal violence that the enclosed photos of murdered Spanish children and burnt homes indicate.
Woolf's response, in the form of a series of letters, is this book. Read my full review here.
Ian Mcewan: Atonement Funny story about how I came to read Ian McEwan's novel, Atonement. Read my full review here.
Joseph Conrad: The Shadow-Line: A Confession Ah, the satisfaction of the short novel. Clocking in 132 pages, I was able to move swiftly through Joseph Conrad's The Shadow-Line, which gave the narrative something of the sense of a deep inhale. Read my full reviews here and here.
Marilynne Robinson: Housekeeping Robinson's book can teach me especially about narration - something I think is lost in a lot of traditional fiction writing classes, banished under the moniker of it being "telling" rather than showing. Read my full review here.
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn: One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich This is the author's brilliant move. In a short novel in a dreary and unjust landscape, he gives us a protagonist who we come to like, and who sleeps happily at the end. It is the dissonance of what makes Shukhov so happy, and what we readers hope for him--it is that gap in between--that makes this novel sing. Read my full review here.
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