In our morning reading: thoughts on Mónica Ojeda’s fiction, an interview with Adrian Nathan West, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Jeff VanderMeer, “Finnegans Wake” Memorized, Mike Watt, Kevin Wilson’s Latest, and More
In our afternoon reading: new writing from Jeff VanderMeer, Zack Graham on the year in fiction, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Joyce Meets Proust, Nicola Griffith Interviewed, Brian Costello’s Playlist, John Coltrane, and More
In our afternoon reading: a look at the new book Vintage Black Glamour, interviews with Nicola Griffith and Liz Harris, a review of John Coltrane’s Offering, and more.
Morning Bites: James Joyce’s Birthday Party, Matthea Harvey, Tashi Dorji’s Album, Roxane Gay Interviewed, and More
A James Joyce birthday party, thoughts on Matthea Harvey’s new book and Tashi Dorji’s new album, an interview with Roxane Gay, new nonfiction from Jason Diamond, excellent library photos, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Punk Rock James Joyce, The New Yorker on #YesAllWomen, Jolie Holland’s Latest, and More
This afternoon: Thoughts on #YesAllWomen, notes on the continued relevance of James Joyce, Jolie Holland’s new album gets literary, the difference between literature and publishing, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Rebecca Solnit on Climate Change, Knausgaard Profiled, “Finnegan’s Wake” Reimagined, Sergei Dovlatov, and More
This afternoon: Finnegan’s Wake gets a fancy new edition, new writing from Rebecca Solnit, a look at why politicians want to be painters, unlikely literary adaptations, and more.
Constellation of Genius: 1922: Modernism Year One by Kevin Jackson Farrar, Straus and Giroux; 544 p. Ezra Pound, that wild artist, muse, and patron of genius, referred to to 1922 as Year One of a new age. He felt so convinced of this idea that he began to date his letters “p s U” – post scriptum Ulysses. That post-war year saw the publishing of T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land and James Joyce’s Ulysses, among other jewels of modernist art, so a […]
I did not go to Ireland, Stephen Daedalus-style, to forge within the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of anyone at all, much less my race. But at 20, with a round face and dyed red hair, I did choose exile. I wanted to slough off the social anxieties of late adolescence, to return to a primal state: wild and free. More pressingly, I left because my roommates were all going abroad. They hated college. I was more ambivalent, […]