Saturday, July 01, 2006
Still time to nominate ...
... a favorite: Recommend a book in which nothing happens. (Hat tip, Maxine Clarke.) I seem to recall that Robbe-Grillet's novels are not exactly action-packed.
I better not let Debbie see this ...
... fortunately, she doesn't read my blog. Shameless tells of his forthcoming vacation: The Holidays. Sounds wonderful. Debbie and I will take off soon also - for the very nice cabin we rent outside Tunkhannock in a place called Vosberg Neck. Perched above a stream, surrounded by forest, a few hundred yards from the Susquehanna. Two weeks to actually write some poetry. But Debbie would absolutely love to do what Shameless is going to.
Summer reading controversy ...
... this seems a perennial event: Summer books too hot? I agree with Kevin, that "parents and schools have the right - actually the duty - to decide what is best for the children in their charge." I was always resentful whenever I suspected school authorities of undertaking to co-opt my authority as a parent. But I also agree that, in this case, the superintendent acted a bit hastily. Also like Kevin, I think it's something reasonable people can work out with shouting censorship and going to law.
Prefer indeoendent bookstores?
Bud Parr tells you where you to look for them: Find Independent Bookstores at Bookwormz.com. (Hat tip, Maxine Clarke, who has got her stroke back.)
Don't know if this link will work ...
... but here it is anyway, a piece in this morning's WSJ about Poet Laureate-designate Donald Hall: On Eagle Pond Farm. (I subscribe to the WSJ and sometimes their opinion pieces are available free. Not surprisingly, Dave Lull sent it along, too.)
Lynn Viehl loses bet ...
... pays up: Three's a Charm. (Hat tip, Maxine Clarke.)
One the posts, as Bill Peschel notes, offers an excellent summary of what African American Commercial Fiction is. My lovely colleague, Inquirer fashion writer Elizabeth Wellington, just wrote a fine piece about one of the most popular writers in the category - L.A. Banks: Vampire slayer's adventures begin in W. Phila.
One the posts, as Bill Peschel notes, offers an excellent summary of what African American Commercial Fiction is. My lovely colleague, Inquirer fashion writer Elizabeth Wellington, just wrote a fine piece about one of the most popular writers in the category - L.A. Banks: Vampire slayer's adventures begin in W. Phila.
It isn't every day ...
... that I agree with Peter Singer, but I agree with him on this: The Freedom to Ridicule Religion-and Deny the Holocaust. I just think there are better ways of dealing with obnoxious ideas. There's demonstrating their falseness, for instance.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Speaking of Bonnie ...
... she's had a bit of a week herself: Check out her Flood pictures and stories. Hope all is well, Bonnie.
I should mentioned this earlier ...
... C.E. Chaffin is back - and has been for a bit. Lots of interesting stuff there.
Love this post heading ...
... Guess who isn't coming to dinner? I suppose I should vote for John Banville, because I did have dinner with him recently and he was great.
Sian Lewis discovers ...
... Mark Twain: Sold down the river. (Hat tip, Maxine Clarke. Welcome back, Maxine!)
This should come as no surprise ...
... to anyone who lived during the '60s: It's often too easy to exploit our willingness to believe. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.) But this piece is true only as far as it goes. That many people are gullible does not discredit all belief, anymore than errors in computation discredit arithmetic. Moreover, belief and faith are not identical. Finally, it is not so much that we are "pattern-seeking primates" as that, as Abraham Maslow pointed out, meaning is intentional: We tend to find what we're looking for. I myself have great faith in the power of imagination. I think it is, of all our faculties, the one most likely to guide us to the truth.
Let us all be grateful ...
... that our dear friend Maxine was only inconvenienced by this: Off kilter.
Lights, action, camera ...
... the movie adaptation of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials is set to shoot: Dark Materials film gets green light.
The Gaurdian's poetry workshop ...
... has posted its shortlist: Ut pictura poesis. (Hat tip, Rus Bowden.)
Thursday, June 29, 2006
On this date ...
... in 1798, one of Italy's greatest poets, Giacomo Leopardi, was born. Here is link to The Canti.
A poetry review ...
A couple of weeks ago I led a workshop at the West Chester University Poetry Conference. The was reviewing poetry. I brought several books from my office, and asked each of the participants to pick one, take it home, and review it. I told them I’d post their reviews here. The first one has arrived.
Circumstances Beyond Our Control
Poems
By Robert Phillips
Johns Hopkins. 80 pp. $35.00 (hardcover) $16.95 (paperback)
Reviewed by Suzanne Blair
As a member of the “transition generation” (those born in late 1930s or early 1940s), Robert Phillips is old enough to have learned that most of what happens “beyond our control” is unwelcome. Nevertheless, he intends to keep his sense of humor.
But Phillips is no self deceiver. The discomfort and dwindling powers of aging are frequent themes in this his seventh volume of poetry.
At times Phillips is guilty of taking the easy road. In “Memory” after recalling the names of his elementary school teachers and reciting “all the stars of Republic Pictures / Westerns (Lash Larue!),” he concludes with the predictable “Now if only I could remember / where I parked my car...”
Fortunately, other poems are fresher. In the unsettling dramatic monologue “Life and Limb,” the speaker, a former slave reputed to be 137 years old, laments the amputation of his second leg and voices his fears in a mix of trite jokes and wordplay. But here Phillips uses clichés to good effect by reminding us what the words actually mean. “...I don’t have / a leg to stand on. They took / both away...” Rustic language and naïve voice are appropriate to this poem and add to the poignancy that lies under the irreverent humor.
The ex-slave’s predicament epitomizes that of many elderly patients who may have no control over their own medical treatment.
...They took
both away, they said,
to give me life—me
who already lived six score
and seventeen. What riles
me is, my left hand feels
numb. If I tell, they’ll
prune the whole arm off
while I’m asleep some night.
The collection contains other dramatic monologues, all different in tone.
In “Variation on Vallejo’s ‘Black Stone on a White Stone’“ the bemused poet predicts his own death “in Houston in the jungle heat, / in air-conditioned air.”
The speaker in the very funny “Texas Cheerleader Murder Plot” explains why she is compelled to eliminate the mother of her daughter’s rival for a place on the cheerleading squad. The success of this poem rests in the finely tuned Texas voice that can proclaim superiority succinctly: “My hair’s bigger.”
Phillips grows serious with “Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire.” He includes a number of facts from the 1911 disaster but haunting images make this monologue a poem. Rose Rosenfeld, a seamstress who survived the fire, tells of factory doors locked “to keep us from stealing scraps of cloth.” As she and others climb to the roof of the burning building:
I saw girls in shirtwaists flying by,
Catherine wheels projected like Zeppelins
out open window, then plunging downward,
sighing skirts open parasols on fire.
Most of the poems in this collection are in free verse, but even those in form are accessible. A comic villanelle composed of unintentionally funny headlines includes such lines as “Prostitutes Appeal to Pope,” and “Miners Refuse to Work After Death.”
“An Empty Suit” is set in a thrift shop where the poet plays detective, conjuring a man from clues of “smoky dove gray” fabric, “the frayed bottoms of the trousers,” and “two red pills / in the right-hand jacket pocket—.” The repetition of the words “You can tell” at the beginning of all but the final two quatrains lends a hint of litany to the poem, echoing the ritual of the man’s imagined funeral.
In “Grandfather’s Cars,” death, the circumstance most beyond our control, intrudes in an unexpected way. When Grandfather attempts to break out of his black sedan rut with a tomato-red Lincoln convertible, his wife rebukes him in words “that cut like a band saw”:
All our friends are dying like flies—all!
You can’t drive that thang in a funeral procession.
Reluctantly (“All my life I’ve wanted something sporty.”), Grandfather exchanges the convertible for “a four-door Dodge, black, practical as nails.”
Grandfather may have backed down, but after reading this collection, one can easily imagine Robert Phillips at the wheel of something sporty—even in a funeral procession.
Suzanne Blair is a writer in Arkansas.
Circumstances Beyond Our Control
Poems
By Robert Phillips
Johns Hopkins. 80 pp. $35.00 (hardcover) $16.95 (paperback)
Reviewed by Suzanne Blair
As a member of the “transition generation” (those born in late 1930s or early 1940s), Robert Phillips is old enough to have learned that most of what happens “beyond our control” is unwelcome. Nevertheless, he intends to keep his sense of humor.
But Phillips is no self deceiver. The discomfort and dwindling powers of aging are frequent themes in this his seventh volume of poetry.
At times Phillips is guilty of taking the easy road. In “Memory” after recalling the names of his elementary school teachers and reciting “all the stars of Republic Pictures / Westerns (Lash Larue!),” he concludes with the predictable “Now if only I could remember / where I parked my car...”
Fortunately, other poems are fresher. In the unsettling dramatic monologue “Life and Limb,” the speaker, a former slave reputed to be 137 years old, laments the amputation of his second leg and voices his fears in a mix of trite jokes and wordplay. But here Phillips uses clichés to good effect by reminding us what the words actually mean. “...I don’t have / a leg to stand on. They took / both away...” Rustic language and naïve voice are appropriate to this poem and add to the poignancy that lies under the irreverent humor.
The ex-slave’s predicament epitomizes that of many elderly patients who may have no control over their own medical treatment.
...They took
both away, they said,
to give me life—me
who already lived six score
and seventeen. What riles
me is, my left hand feels
numb. If I tell, they’ll
prune the whole arm off
while I’m asleep some night.
The collection contains other dramatic monologues, all different in tone.
In “Variation on Vallejo’s ‘Black Stone on a White Stone’“ the bemused poet predicts his own death “in Houston in the jungle heat, / in air-conditioned air.”
The speaker in the very funny “Texas Cheerleader Murder Plot” explains why she is compelled to eliminate the mother of her daughter’s rival for a place on the cheerleading squad. The success of this poem rests in the finely tuned Texas voice that can proclaim superiority succinctly: “My hair’s bigger.”
Phillips grows serious with “Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire.” He includes a number of facts from the 1911 disaster but haunting images make this monologue a poem. Rose Rosenfeld, a seamstress who survived the fire, tells of factory doors locked “to keep us from stealing scraps of cloth.” As she and others climb to the roof of the burning building:
I saw girls in shirtwaists flying by,
Catherine wheels projected like Zeppelins
out open window, then plunging downward,
sighing skirts open parasols on fire.
Most of the poems in this collection are in free verse, but even those in form are accessible. A comic villanelle composed of unintentionally funny headlines includes such lines as “Prostitutes Appeal to Pope,” and “Miners Refuse to Work After Death.”
“An Empty Suit” is set in a thrift shop where the poet plays detective, conjuring a man from clues of “smoky dove gray” fabric, “the frayed bottoms of the trousers,” and “two red pills / in the right-hand jacket pocket—.” The repetition of the words “You can tell” at the beginning of all but the final two quatrains lends a hint of litany to the poem, echoing the ritual of the man’s imagined funeral.
In “Grandfather’s Cars,” death, the circumstance most beyond our control, intrudes in an unexpected way. When Grandfather attempts to break out of his black sedan rut with a tomato-red Lincoln convertible, his wife rebukes him in words “that cut like a band saw”:
All our friends are dying like flies—all!
You can’t drive that thang in a funeral procession.
Reluctantly (“All my life I’ve wanted something sporty.”), Grandfather exchanges the convertible for “a four-door Dodge, black, practical as nails.”
Grandfather may have backed down, but after reading this collection, one can easily imagine Robert Phillips at the wheel of something sporty—even in a funeral procession.
Suzanne Blair is a writer in Arkansas.
So you want to review books ...
... Critcal Mass is there to help: The NBCC's Tips for Successful Book Reviewing.
What good are reviews?
Not much, when it comes to sales. But they do have their uses: The art of the irrelevant. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Amen, brother ...
Glenn Reynolds today linked to a piece he wrote a couple of years ago that I am largely in agreement with: Loose definitions .
People forget that maybe the first attemto to separate church and state was made by Jesus: "Render to caesar the things that are Caesar's and to God the things that are God's." For me religion has more to do with prayer and repentence than with campaigns for laws or censorhip, and more to do with ritual and symbol than with precepts and prohibitions.
People forget that maybe the first attemto to separate church and state was made by Jesus: "Render to caesar the things that are Caesar's and to God the things that are God's." For me religion has more to do with prayer and repentence than with campaigns for laws or censorhip, and more to do with ritual and symbol than with precepts and prohibitions.
A couple of complementary lists ...
Nick Brooks' top ten literary murderers
(Hat tip, Vikram Johri, who also sends along this item: Harper Lee breaks her silence in letter to Oprah.)
Matthew Pearl's top 10 books inspired by Edgar Allan Poe (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
I note that Daniel Hoffman's Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe tops the list.
(Hat tip, Vikram Johri, who also sends along this item: Harper Lee breaks her silence in letter to Oprah.)
Matthew Pearl's top 10 books inspired by Edgar Allan Poe (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
I note that Daniel Hoffman's Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe tops the list.
So much good stuff ...
... over at About Last Night best to just visit and keep scrolling. One thing I found especially interesting: Terry and I both live in large cities and both of us walk all the time all over, whereas in small towns people drive everywhere. What does Bill Kauffman make of that, I wonder.
Update: Dave Lull sends along this link, which is pertinent to my Bill Kauffman query. He also sends along this: Big City in Little Pieces. But I could take issue with a lot of the latter, not least this reference to "the famed New York incivility," which I have found to be more legendary than real - I think of the guy on the subway a couple of years ago who was so solicitous that my wife and I precisely follow his directions when we got off so as not to get lost. Or this: "The outsider is still overwhelmed by the din and anomie of New York: the jackhammers and honking cabs and people who won't look you in the eye." Some of us outsiders are thrilled by the din and I have yet to discern the anomie myself. Haven't noticed the people who won't look you in the eye, either.
And this: "Life on an inhuman scale ... does not make one any less human. " What exactly is inhuman about the scale of Manhattan, which was built by humans, not bears or doplhins? "Man's reach should exceed his grasp," as Browning put it. "Else what's a heaven for?"
Update: Dave Lull sends along this link, which is pertinent to my Bill Kauffman query. He also sends along this: Big City in Little Pieces. But I could take issue with a lot of the latter, not least this reference to "the famed New York incivility," which I have found to be more legendary than real - I think of the guy on the subway a couple of years ago who was so solicitous that my wife and I precisely follow his directions when we got off so as not to get lost. Or this: "The outsider is still overwhelmed by the din and anomie of New York: the jackhammers and honking cabs and people who won't look you in the eye." Some of us outsiders are thrilled by the din and I have yet to discern the anomie myself. Haven't noticed the people who won't look you in the eye, either.
And this: "Life on an inhuman scale ... does not make one any less human. " What exactly is inhuman about the scale of Manhattan, which was built by humans, not bears or doplhins? "Man's reach should exceed his grasp," as Browning put it. "Else what's a heaven for?"
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
On this date ...
... in 1867, Italian playwright Luigi Pirandello was born.
"A fact is like a sack - it won't stand up if it's empty. To make it stand up, first you have to put in it all the reasons and feelings that caused it in the first place. "
"A fact is like a sack - it won't stand up if it's empty. To make it stand up, first you have to put in it all the reasons and feelings that caused it in the first place. "
Yesterday ...
... The Inquirer ceased being owned by Knight-Ridder. This is good. Knight-Ridder was the corporate equivalent of the Soviet Union - completely incapable of adapting to changing circumstances. It was what happens to a company when it ceases to have any entrepreneurial spirit and is run by people who have risen to the top the way scum rises to the top of a simmering stock pot. Good ridderance, I say.
Wired, in the meatine, profiles its opposite: His Space.
Oh, I know all the complaints about Rupert Murdoch. But he's not hampered by locked-in-the-box thinking, that's for sure.
Wired, in the meatine, profiles its opposite: His Space.
Oh, I know all the complaints about Rupert Murdoch. But he's not hampered by locked-in-the-box thinking, that's for sure.
Some graphic novels ...
... are more graphic than others, apparently. See Bill Peschel's Girls On Paper.
Eric Hoffer lives ...
... on Blogspot: Eric Hoffer Quotes. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.) Also check out the Eric Hoffer Resource.
Dave also sends a link to Patrick Kurp's Hoffer and Hoffman.
Dave also sends a link to Patrick Kurp's Hoffer and Hoffman.
Sounds reasonable to me ...
Queen costs each taxpayer 62p a year. Mencken once noted that President Harding cost him about 50 cents a year. "Can you think of better sport for the money?" the Sage of Baltimore asked.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
I have just finished ...
... my review for Sunday. It is probably too long and I am, as is usual upon finishing a review , not in the best of moods. So I'm calling it quits for tonight.
One of my favorites ...
... both as writer and person - A.S. Byatt - talks about her art: A.S. Byatt and story-telling .
A chat with an editor ...
Matthew Cheney has A Conversation with Tina Pohlman, editorial director of Harvest Books (the paperback imprint of Harcourt).
Calling all Proustians ...
Stefanie Hollmichel is readying the Proust group blog. Read about it toward the end of The First Time. (Had I but world enough and time ...)
This is great ...
... Vangisa, the Venerable Master of Words . And so is this: Therigatha: Verses of the Elder Nuns .
And the next time you think about immigration, consider this: Angel Island Poetry .
And the next time you think about immigration, consider this: Angel Island Poetry .
Together at last ...
... Mr. and Mrs Hawthorne: American literary couple reunited after 150 years . (Hat tip, Rus Bowden.)
As a big Hawthorne fan, I am naturally happy for both of them.
As a big Hawthorne fan, I am naturally happy for both of them.
The future of libraries ...
The Wall Street Journal looks at LibraryThing: Social Networking for Bookworms. (Hat tip, Gwen Hendry.)
More on Harry Potter ...
... nearing the end of the trail: Chronicle of a death foretold ... Harry Potter author's grim hints . (Hat tip, Vikram Johri.)
Great minds at work again ...
I called Glenn Reynolds's An Army of Davids "a must-read if you want to have some idea of the direction things are taking." The U.S. Chamber of Commerce apparently agrees: “Books that Drive the Debate.” (Via - not surprisingly - InstaPundit.)
Speaking of omnipresent ...
... it seems McDonalds makes its own peculiar contribution to the spirit of place: Slumming the Golden Arches.
Great men think alike ...
... or so the saying goes. This must explain why Dave Lull, Patrick Kurp and I are fans of Eric Hoffer: Thinking Man. (I like Patrick's characterization of Dave: "omnipresent Wisconsin librarian.")
Monday, June 26, 2006
Jonathan Wordsworth (1932-2006)
The great-great-great nephew of the poet Wordsworth - and a noted scholar of his work - has died. Here is the Telegraph's obit.
I had never heard ...
... of George Hook until I read this post, which I found very moving: George Hook Made Me Cry Today. I certainly know what it is to cry while watching Shadowlands.
This makes me happy ...
... for myself, of course, but even more for Dan Hoffman: Audacious. (Thanks to Dave Lull for sending it along.)
Two thumbs down ...
.. for John Updike's Terrorist. The thumbs are James Wood's. Mark Sarvas quotes and links: Wood on Terrorist.
For quite a different take, I link to the review Glenn Altschuler wrote for The Inquirer: Updike's painfully human terrorist. The passage Glenn quotes from at the end is certainly an impressive piece of writing.
For quite a different take, I link to the review Glenn Altschuler wrote for The Inquirer: Updike's painfully human terrorist. The passage Glenn quotes from at the end is certainly an impressive piece of writing.
Yankee ingenuity ...
... hits Carl Bryant: Poetry in the Bathroom. (I wonder, though, does "Yankee ingenuity" apply in Georgia?)
Terry Teachout makes a very good point ...
... about regional theater (note there is a free link there to his WSJ piece).
Check out his Almanac, too.
Check out his Almanac, too.
RIP Bruno the Bear
Bavarian hunters kill Bruno the bear I believe he had said he would never be taken alive.
As promised ...
... here is Carlin Romano's review of Elaine Feinstein's Anna of All the Russias: A poet who gave voice to Russia's suffering.
Not to be outdone ...
... by Royalist Geoffrey Chaucer, the Founding Fathers have started blogging: Founder Blogs.com. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Well, this might surprise ...
... some people, especially book publishers: Favorite books among evangelicals. (These are the same people that book after book that comes into my office declare to be a far greater threat than Islamic jihadists.)
Given that later this week ...
... The Inquirer will change ownership, this piece seems appropriate: How the back page took over the front page. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
A couple of roundups ...
... at Critical Mass: John Freeman's Sunday Round Up and Jane Ciabattari's for Saturday Roundup. Useful to compare Luc Sante's Times review with Louis Menand's in the New Yorker: Acid Redux. Sante isn't responsible for the headline - "The Nutty Professor" - though he does not make it clear, as Menand does, that Leary was never a professor, at Harvard or anywhere else. At Harvard he held a lectureship. And while it may be true that Leary's indictments were "mostly on penny ante marijuana charges," as Sante puts it, the bust that landed him in the slammer was for possession while driving under the influence along with his wife and kids who were also under the influence. Doesn't seem exactly tyrannical to get a guy like that off the street.
Nothing is revealed in Robert Greenfield's book that couldn't have been known when Leary was in his heyday. It was surely in the public interest to let everyone know that the man was a dirt bag. Only now - so long after he did so much harm - does the media that created him feel the need to be sanctimonious about him.
Nothing is revealed in Robert Greenfield's book that couldn't have been known when Leary was in his heyday. It was surely in the public interest to let everyone know that the man was a dirt bag. Only now - so long after he did so much harm - does the media that created him feel the need to be sanctimonious about him.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
It must be David Yezzi Day ...
Patrick Kurp mentions David in this excellent post about Philip Larkin: `A Serious House on Serious Earth'. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
This probably is closed off to all but subscribers, but here is David's piece in the WSJ: A Journey From Irony to Mystery
This probably is closed off to all but subscribers, but here is David's piece in the WSJ: A Journey From Irony to Mystery
The idea has merit, I think ...
Carl Bryant has been pondering the problem of having a Poet Laureate. He has just declared the Problem Solved.
Like Donne?
Or Robert Herrick (a special favorite of mine)? Amy Nelson-Mile links to a Resource for 17th Century English Literature . (Hat tip, Maxine Clarke.)
Say hi to Minx ...
... who's had a rough week, what with spam and hostile emails and - yes! - being struck by a unicyclist: The Inner Minx
We always have Parys ...
Geoffrey Chaucer chats with a young lady named Parys who is "the daughter of an riche stewarde and hosteler." Sound familiar? She's yonge, she's sexie, she's riche: Interviewe wyth Parys
A blog ...
... for creative writing MFAs, called - not surprisingly - the MFA Weblog. (Hat tip, B.Tsao.)
Someone worth getting to know ...
... is David Yezzi, interviewed by Ernest Hilbert for The Cortland Review, whic also provides a sampler of his work. (Hat tip again to Dave Lull.)
The future of authors ...
... maybe they have no future, though John Updike thinks news of their passing may be premature: The End of Authorship. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
One passage intrigues me: "This is, as I read it, a pretty grisly scenario. 'Performances, access to the creator, personalization,' whatever that is — does this not throw us back to the pre-literate societies, where only the present, live person can make an impression and offer, as it were, value? Have not writers, since the onset of the Gutenberg revolution, imagined that they already were, in their written and printed texts, giving an "access to the creator" more pointed, more shapely, more loaded with aesthetic and informational value than an unmediated, unpolished personal conversation?"
What about before the Gutenberg revolution? Authorship pre-dates Gutenberg by quite a few centuries. Printing may have changed authorship, but it hardly caused it. The electronic revolution is also going to change it - probably already has. I wouldn't worry about it. Chaucer did pretty well without Gutenberg. I suspect he would have done just as well had he access to a printing press. And I suspect he would have done well with a computer and an online connection. In fact, we know he already has: Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog
One passage intrigues me: "This is, as I read it, a pretty grisly scenario. 'Performances, access to the creator, personalization,' whatever that is — does this not throw us back to the pre-literate societies, where only the present, live person can make an impression and offer, as it were, value? Have not writers, since the onset of the Gutenberg revolution, imagined that they already were, in their written and printed texts, giving an "access to the creator" more pointed, more shapely, more loaded with aesthetic and informational value than an unmediated, unpolished personal conversation?"
What about before the Gutenberg revolution? Authorship pre-dates Gutenberg by quite a few centuries. Printing may have changed authorship, but it hardly caused it. The electronic revolution is also going to change it - probably already has. I wouldn't worry about it. Chaucer did pretty well without Gutenberg. I suspect he would have done just as well had he access to a printing press. And I suspect he would have done well with a computer and an online connection. In fact, we know he already has: Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog
Today's Inquirer reviews ...
Gaiutra Bahadur likes Monica Ali's Alentejo Blue: Silence speaks volumes in a Portuguese village
David Cohen finds Anthony Arthur's biography of Upton Sinclair admirable and concise: 'Jungle' was part of stormy career
Roger Miller takes a look at the novel that made Sinclair famous - and made America's food more wholesome: Revolting disclosures caused radical change
Mike Schaffer (my illustrious predecessor as Inquirer book editor) has reservations about Walter Mosley's latest: "Fortunate Son" isn't among his best
Katie Haegele finds a beautifully drawn portrait in Julie Ann Peters's Between Mom and Jo: Young Adult Reader Nick has two moms, and they're not perfect
I am afraid we'll have to wait until tomorrow before I can link to Carlin Romano's excellent review Elaine Feinstein's biography of Anna Akhmatova. For some reason it isn't posted online yet.
David Cohen finds Anthony Arthur's biography of Upton Sinclair admirable and concise: 'Jungle' was part of stormy career
Roger Miller takes a look at the novel that made Sinclair famous - and made America's food more wholesome: Revolting disclosures caused radical change
Mike Schaffer (my illustrious predecessor as Inquirer book editor) has reservations about Walter Mosley's latest: "Fortunate Son" isn't among his best
Katie Haegele finds a beautifully drawn portrait in Julie Ann Peters's Between Mom and Jo: Young Adult Reader Nick has two moms, and they're not perfect
I am afraid we'll have to wait until tomorrow before I can link to Carlin Romano's excellent review Elaine Feinstein's biography of Anna Akhmatova. For some reason it isn't posted online yet.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
A thoughtful piece ...
... about blogs by Alan Jacobs: The friend of information but the enemy of thought. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
I think this makes a number of very good points (and mentions several blogs I shall have to look into). But I think the upshot is that there is still much room for improvement and much area for creative innovation in the blogosphere. It is a work in progress, and has only just begun.
I think this makes a number of very good points (and mentions several blogs I shall have to look into). But I think the upshot is that there is still much room for improvement and much area for creative innovation in the blogosphere. It is a work in progress, and has only just begun.
The results are in ...
... for Locus Online's poll for the best SF/fantasy/horror poems of 2005 and of all-time. (Hat tip, Laurie Mason.)
I am surprised that Keats didn't make the list. There is La Belle Dame Sans Merci and Isabella; or, The Pot of Basil.
I am surprised that Keats didn't make the list. There is La Belle Dame Sans Merci and Isabella; or, The Pot of Basil.
Anniversary suite ...
The New York Review of Books does a Beckett roundup: Beckett: Still Stirring. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
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