I just read Stephen Kessler’s The Mental Traveler, a pellucid fictionalization of a mental breakdown during the late 1960s.
In a café in Marin last weekend, I met up with a friend who’d just read a draft of a novel of mine.
“Electric Literature” is now three quarters of the way to being a bona fide quarterly publication, and is available “in every viable medium: paperback, Kindle, iPhone, audiobook, and eBook.”
A woman opens a bookshop in an East Anglian village, and things go about as swimmingly as they might if, say, Jude the Obscure opened a bookshop…
All the Samuel R. Delany letters quoted in this post are from the collection 1984.
It was interesting which scenes stuck in my mind for twenty-five years until I came to read the unexpurgated translation of Solzhenitsyn’s In The First Circle.
I just sort of reread Alexsandr Solzhenitysn’s In The First Circle.
High literary reading owes a lot to religious reading, where the text is treated as sacred.
On one level, Saki (H. H. Munro) was clearly reproaching the British for being less concerned with the maintenance of their Empire than with the domains of popular entertainment and dogs – and who can blame them really?
“Why, why, why would a company publish a book this good and then practically demand that people not read it? Why should this book go to waste?”
Gilead takes us into the consciousness of a humble provincial minister preparing to die.
“All the most important trends of the last century come from California: the collective dreams in cinemas round the world.”
Maybe without the importation of foreign words and ideas into Russia, the Revolution couldn’t have happened.
Every event that occurs in a novel sheds light on all the novel’s other events.
“A. E. Housman’s test of a true poem was simple and practical; does it make the hairs at one’s chin bristle if one repeats it silently while shaving.”