In our morning reading: thoughts on Zachary Lazar’s new book, an interview with Lance Olsen, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Bitchin Bajas Cover Sun Ra, Zadie Smith’s Play, Polly Barton Interviewed, and More
In our afternoon reading: thoughts on Bitchin Bajas’ new album, interviews with Amitava Kumar and Polly Barton, and more.
Vol. 1 Brooklyn’s December 2021 Book Preview
When it comes to books, December often brings the unexpected. This year is no different; even with paper shortages and distribution issues complicating the world of publishing, this month had plenty of notable books to offer. This includes multiple works by certified geniuses and a host of intriguing books in translation. Looking for some cold-weather reading? Read on for our recommendations.
Morning Bites: Gina Apostol on 2021, Ayşegül Savaş’s Fiction, Desserts and Comics, and More
In our morning reading: Gina Apostol on the year in books, comics and desserts converge, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Emma Straub on Bookstores, Hasanthika Sirisena’s Essays, Saša Stanišić Excerpted, and More
In our afternoon reading: new nonfiction by Emma Straub, thoughts on Aleksandar Hemon’s new collection, and more.
Morning Bites: Juliet Escoria on Film, Lucy Sante Interviewed, Phil Cook’s New Album, and More
In our morning reading: Juliet Escoria on film, the New York Times’ favorite books of the year, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Sarah Hall Interviewed, Lauren Weinstein’s Comics, Leigh Stein Nonfiction, and More
In our afternoon reading: an interview with Sarah Hall, new writing by Leigh Stein, and more.
An Artist’s Death, Told in Fragments: On Max Porter’s “The Death of Francis Bacon”
There’s a long literary tradition of longform fiction set against the backdrop of someone on their deathbed. The Death of Ivan Ilyich is one of the lodestars here, for sure; I myself am partial to By Night in Chile for its haunting construction, both Satanic humblebrag and chastened confession. Max Porter’s latest novel, The Death of Francis Bacon, taps into that same dread-inducing momentum — the sense of a protagonist hurtling, depending on your (or their) perspective, into either the great beyond or complete nothingness.