In our morning reading: thoughts on books by Rachel Eve Moulton and Jeff VanderMeer, horror filmmakers write horror fiction, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Andy Davidson on Nostalgia, Fatimah Asghar Interviewed, Norman Lock’s Playlist, and More
In our afternoon reading: Andy Davidson on nostalgia, a Charles Yu adaptation, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Charles Yu Interviewed, New NYC Indie Bookstores, Morgan Talty’s Fiction, and More
In our afternoon reading: an interview with Charles Yu, horror fiction recommendations, and more.
Morning Bites: Qian Julie Wang on Memoirs, Charles Yu Interviewed, Medieval Horror, and More
In our morning reading: an interview with Qian Julie Wang, looking back at Colson Whitehead’s debut novel, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Kristopher Jansma on Writing, Charles Yu Interviewed, Simon Van Booy’s New Novel, and More
In our afternoon reading: writing advice from Kristopher Jansma, an interview with Charles Yu, and more.
Morning Bites: Lucie Britsch, Rebecca Solnit on This Week, The Bug, Charles Yu Interviewed, and More
In our morning reading: an interview with Lucie Britsch, taking books with Charles Yu, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Mauro Javier Cárdenas Interviewed, Torrey Peters, Charles Yu Fiction, Iceage, and More
In our afternoon reading: an interview with Mauro Javier Cárdenas, fiction by Charles Yu, and more.
Reinventing Postmodernism: A Review of Charles Yu’s “Interior Chinatown”
Once upon a time, when postmodernism was young—before it became what-the-hell-is-postmodernism-really(?) and post-postmodernism—unique literary conceits were enough to draw oohs and ahs from critics. Think of John Barth with the nested narrative loops and literary equations of Lost in the Funhouse; Nabokov with the fiction inside poetry inside criticism of Pale Fire; or Coover with his cinematic A Night at the Movies. Great as those works were in their time, the audacious formal tricks that defined them have, to a great extent, already been tried. The novel as screenplay…or treatment…or cinema, for example, has been done and done and done. So much that when I came to Charles Yu’s latest, Interior Chinatown, I wondered whether there could possibly be enough of a point to what seems primarily a formal experiment. Could Yu, a writer I confess to liking, even admiring, possibly do enough to justify publishing a novel like this in 2020? Then I read it. And, in this instance, at least, reading is believing.