File under: I feel shitty giving a negative review
Because I know Kovaly had some very painful struggles. But was this a particularly interesting or weFile under: I feel shitty giving a negative review
Because I know Kovaly had some very painful struggles. But was this a particularly interesting or well-written account? Does it add more to my understanding of a historical epoch? Does she have particular literary talent? Unfortunately I think the answer to all three is a solid no. Leave it back in the ‘80s, along with the vast majority of the other Iron Curtain memoirs. ...more
I’m of two minds here. On the one hand, there’s a lot to recommend, and Hofmannsthal is very much my kind of guy – abstract, dark, Mitteleuropa, checkI’m of two minds here. On the one hand, there’s a lot to recommend, and Hofmannsthal is very much my kind of guy – abstract, dark, Mitteleuropa, check, check, check. On the other hand, there have been so many other writers who do this sort of thing at a higher level – Schnitzler, Zweig, Rezzori, and Walser just to name a few. Hofmannsthal isn’t in their league, which isn’t to say that his writing is bad, it’s just that it’s overshadowed. I still think you should read this NYRB volume if you like the same sort of Mitteleuropa gloom as me, but it’s not essential reading....more
When I was a child who was fundamentally incapable of dealing with the world around me, I retreated into my own world and I made lists. Lists of citieWhen I was a child who was fundamentally incapable of dealing with the world around me, I retreated into my own world and I made lists. Lists of cities and countries, baseball players and long-defunct teams, minerals and insects and god knows what else. Hell, I still kinda do it. Films I haven’t seen, wines I haven’t drank… the list goes on.
So does Gangemi’s Olt. And he walks around, and his lists are the world. The world is made up of his lists. I have never felt so seen. ...more
For being such a big-name nouveau roman, I found the whole thing pretty fucking boring and conventional tbh. OK, there’s this narrative structure, thaFor being such a big-name nouveau roman, I found the whole thing pretty fucking boring and conventional tbh. OK, there’s this narrative structure, that while useful, is not particularly innovative. Otherwise, it’s just another adultery story. I’m reminded of some of the more tedious films of Godard and Antonioni -- technically impressive rehashes of bourgeois fretting at their core (not to hate on Antonioni too much, L’Avventura and The Red Desert are top-tier). Hard pass....more
To call this comprehensive would be wrong – I would say that Jocelyn Zuckerman belongs ot the Naomi Klein school of reportage, using pretty strong resTo call this comprehensive would be wrong – I would say that Jocelyn Zuckerman belongs ot the Naomi Klein school of reportage, using pretty strong research and observational skills to report on a story of ugliness and corruption at the ragged edges of capitalism. It’s well written and persuasive, but it doesn’t scratch my particular itch – there’s a bit too much human interest and not enough hard journalism (something Madame Klein is guilty of as well, even when I admire her). But I’m immensely glad that this was written. It’s a story we all need to hear....more
Jarett Kobek likes telling you to fuck off. I’m cool with that. I am enough of an emotional masochist that I like being told to fuck off, and enough oJarett Kobek likes telling you to fuck off. I’m cool with that. I am enough of an emotional masochist that I like being told to fuck off, and enough of an emotional sadist to enjoy other people being told to fuck off.
He hates the Vonnegut comparison, but I’ll do him one worse – a Tao Lin comparison. But better, because I love Kobek. I don’t love Tao Lin. Jarett, if you’re reading this I’m sorry for being a dope. But I still love your writing.
What can I say? This felt good, because I have similar levels of and to a certain degree similar targets for contempt. If you do too, you’ll probably like it too. ...more
This was a difficult one to wrap my head around. Like so many things I love, it consists of a series of fragments that should, in theory, cohere to foThis was a difficult one to wrap my head around. Like so many things I love, it consists of a series of fragments that should, in theory, cohere to form a unified vision of a human perspective, a person at a time in a place. But I don’t know if I got that here. I do know that I enjoyed reading this. But I also know that it kind of just passed right through me, and there’s not a lot that sticks out when I think back on the reading process....more
I was expecting something much broader in its outlook – instead, I got the history of the German left and its relationship to the corpus known as “theI was expecting something much broader in its outlook – instead, I got the history of the German left and its relationship to the corpus known as “theory.” And yet still I was thoroughly entertained, because to a large degree the German experience could be extrapolated. From the humanistic Marxism of the Frankfurt School (I was once an Adorno skeptic, but I’m now fully on board and minimally moral) on through the transformation of theory into something seriously unserious at best, and downright moronic at worst as the Thatcher/Reagan Revolution ruthlessly marched forward. The dream may have ended with Baader-Meinhof in Germany, and it ended with Nixon, Manson, and Altamont in my own country. And in both countries, theory was reduced to a petty glass-bead game among the academic bourgeoisie. It's fitting that The Summer of Theory ends with the rise of the Berlin club scene. Because if everything is fucked, the only thing left to do is dance....more
Like so many big-name theorists, Traverso is kind of all over the place. One minute, he’s talking about the melancholy and the triumph of there being Like so many big-name theorists, Traverso is kind of all over the place. One minute, he’s talking about the melancholy and the triumph of there being no alternative after the failures of the USSR, and the next he’s talking about Benjamin’s life under the sign of Saturn, and in another he’s talking about a stream of European art films that are mostly watched by other theorists and aspiring theorists (did I just feel the harsh glare of a spotlight in my eyes?). So there’s not much of a real argument of note, and… I just wish that there’d been more of a cohesive notion of melancholy here, instead of a ragged attempt to make a bunch of historical moments, personal histories, and straight-up vibes coalesce....more
So Jesus, where to even start? If we’re using Breton’s definition of “pure psychic automatism,” this is a pretty pristine example. All those random thSo Jesus, where to even start? If we’re using Breton’s definition of “pure psychic automatism,” this is a pretty pristine example. All those random thoughts, the completely observational running headlong into pure emotion, with little bits of the city flying by – banal advertisements in shop windows reproduced whole interspersed with the text.
I was reminded, more than anything, not of a piece of fiction at all, but Nas’ Illmatic. Louis Aragon’s stand-in narrator walks around the infinitely dense cityscape of Paris, letting its myriad bits and pieces fall over him, not too different from NaS’ Queensbridge lyricism. And if a 100 year old French novel is making me think of one of the most iconic rap albums of my childhood, that’s a sign that certain vein is being hit. The world is yours. ...more
The revival of weird fiction and its relatives in what I deem the Weird Years that began with the 2008 financial craHow is this not more widely read?!
The revival of weird fiction and its relatives in what I deem the Weird Years that began with the 2008 financial crash has been a delight to me, because if things are weird, read weird. True Detective was Louisiana weird, and was a runaway hit. Padgett is Louisiana weird and remains relatively obscure.
This is a creepy little… thing. Is it a novel? Kinda? Themes and recurring concepts – “the great ventriloquist!” – emerge here and there. Each story is pretty much self-contained though, although they do reinforce each other (a bit like Bruno Schulz’s Street of Crocodiles). And the net result of all those reinforcing narratives was a feeling of discomfort akin to a sunny summer’s day on acid. When the tone is just a little too bright. When the darkness underneath threatens to suck you in whole. ...more
Oh Bruno, you were one of my first loves, ever since I first discovered you almost by accident as a moody teen… it was good to see him again in a new Oh Bruno, you were one of my first loves, ever since I first discovered you almost by accident as a moody teen… it was good to see him again in a new translation. Is this a necessary volume though? No, not really – even with that additional story (surrealist masochistic fantasy published in a fucking oil industry newsletter, if that isn’t WTF, I don’t know what is). Stick with the standard volumes of Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass and Street of Crocodiles, and you’ll be fine....more
Strongly surprised by how different this was to Hardwick’s other work. I’m used to the dissection of literature, I’m used to the nail-biting 4 a.m. prStrongly surprised by how different this was to Hardwick’s other work. I’m used to the dissection of literature, I’m used to the nail-biting 4 a.m. prose, but these are stories in the broad American realist tradition, the tradition that’s responsible for both the highest heights and the most callow lows of American fiction. Where is Hardwick? Somewhere in between, although on the higher end of the spectrum. It’s still not the essential reading that Sleepless Nights is, but she crafts a fine story....more
I mean it’s a fairly interesting story of partisans in the woods. For most of the book, it seemed a fairly ordinary war novel – I didn’t get that muchI mean it’s a fairly interesting story of partisans in the woods. For most of the book, it seemed a fairly ordinary war novel – I didn’t get that much out of it that I hadn’t seen before, although it was at the very least OK, with the sort of daring battle scenes that readers come to a novel like this for. It’s when we get to the end – that Levi zooms out and gives context to everything – that it’s cemented as an interesting work....more
Boy, you can tell this was a tough one to translate. It is so, so dependent on the context of Thailand – the ultra-specific references to tropical floBoy, you can tell this was a tough one to translate. It is so, so dependent on the context of Thailand – the ultra-specific references to tropical flora (pikul blossoms, etc.), the ironic allusions to the lakhon tradition in Thai romantic fiction and soap opera, and for that reason it is a tropical magical realist novel par excellence. I feel like I only got a fraction of the dense web of mirrors and symbols, but even if you haven’t spent much time in this neck of the woods, I think you can just vibe. For that matter, it might even be easier, because you don’t know what you’re “supposed” to be getting....more
No clear stance here – I Remember is a goddamn masterpiece (although it’s not as stunning as it was when I first read it, when it was totally unique),No clear stance here – I Remember is a goddamn masterpiece (although it’s not as stunning as it was when I first read it, when it was totally unique), but what makes it brilliant is the matchup of the conceit and the imageistic flash. The other works though? The same imageistic flash, but without the conceit. Sometimes this is enough, and sometimes Brainard is like a literary Mitch Hedberg. Sometimes it is not. As with all collections, this is uneven, and one generally expects an unevenness, especially with this sort of writing....more
So I guess these were, to a much less extreme degree, the experiences that informed Fires on the Plain. And it’s good a series of war stories as any, So I guess these were, to a much less extreme degree, the experiences that informed Fires on the Plain. And it’s good a series of war stories as any, which all have that consistent trudging theme – of being tired as hell, just wanting to go home, even as they are supposed to be performing a poorly conceived of patriotic duty to the Japanese Empire, with American captors that seem just kind of ill-mannered and not terribly bright. Which is quite the antidote to the typical accounts of the honor-mad warrior ready to commit seppuku at a moment’s notice popular during the time period, from both official imperial and American pop culture accounts. Better even than Ooka’s fiction, I think....more
Oh lord how I hate puns in reviews of books/movies/whatever about food. The next reviewer who calls a season of The Bear “a delicious entrée” or sometOh lord how I hate puns in reviews of books/movies/whatever about food. The next reviewer who calls a season of The Bear “a delicious entrée” or something like that deserves a swift kick to the nuts.
So I won’t do that re: Provence, 1970. But it’s a decent enough distraction of a nonfiction book about the people who got us from ham with pineapple ring to the fussy “New American” food of the late 20th Century, some quite affable, some old school snobs, spending a summer being weird and catty, as related by M.F.K. Fisher’s grandnephew. He does an OK job? Still not exactly substantive – I don’t feel like I got much in the way of insight. ...more
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