Open Letters Monthly, June 2013

June2013

Today is both Father’s Day and Bloomsday, but any attempt on the part of this post to find a connection between the two is probably folly. I’m quite certain my father read Ulysses, but my window of opportunity to talk to him about it has come and gone; I’d have as much luck trying to interrogate Leopold Bloom himself. On the other hand, even though it’s mid-month, the June issue of Open Letters Monthly is still up. And given how events have been moving along this summer—globally, locally, microscopically—a little bit of continuity is a good thing. If you haven’t already checked it out, or even if you have and think it may be time to take another look, there are some choice bits here to carry you through the rest of this all-too-fleeting month:

John Cotter takes an invested look at Terry Eagleton’s How to Read Literature—“light on its feet and right about what matters.”

Spencer Lenfield goes back to Richard Ford’s 1986 The Sportswriter and does some appreciative unpacking.

Rohan Maitzen enjoys Deirdre David’s biography of “one of the most under-valued and under-read British women novelists of the twentieth century,” Olivia Manning: A Woman at War.

Jerry White looks at Fintan O’Toole’s trilogy dissecting the end of the “Celtic Tiger,” Up the Republic! Towards a New Ireland, Enough is Enough: How to Build a New Republic, and Ship of Fools: How Stupidity and Corruption Sank the Celtic Tiger.

Steve Donoghue examines some alt-Tudor fiction, Laura Anderson’s The Boleyn King, in the company of Hilary Mantel’s wonderful Bring Up the Bodies.

Alyssa Mackenzie has good things to say about Sandra Djwa’s Journey with No Maps: A Life of P.K. Page—“The most important Canadian author you probably never heard of.”

From Jessica Smith, an original poem: wild swans.

Matt Sadler looks at each of the five Great Gatsby film adaptations—good Gatsbys, mediocre Gatsbys, and seriously ambitious-but-flawed Gatsbys.

Nicole Perrin fears the psychological insight Jane Gardam brings to her characters might have peaked well before Last Friends—“the novel may raise suspicions that all the most interesting things already happened, halfway around the world, at a very different time.”

Phillip A. Lobo plays the disturbingly violent Hotline Miami and the “dystopian document thriller” Papers, Please.

In her It’s a Mystery column, Irma Heldman reminds us that “It’s a whole new espionage world,” and John le Carré’s A Delicate Truth and Jason Matthews’ Red Sparrow are proof.

In his America Aristocracy column, Douglass Shand-Tucci takes a look at what—and who—moved Copley Square artist F. Holland Day.

This month’s cover image is “96th Street,” by OLM editor-at-large Jeffrey Eaton.

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Sunday Links, June 16, 2013

the drowning girlThe Bram Stoker Awards were awarded yesterday evening at the World Horror Convention in New Orleans, Louisiana. Caitlín R. Kiernan took the top prize for best novel with The Drowning Girl. It’s the second major prize for that novel, which also won the James Tiptree, Jr. Award.

Jack GlassThe Campbell Conference awarded its three awards on June 14, 2013. Adam Roberts won the John W. Campbell Award for his novel with Jack Glass: The Story of a Murderer.

Sea ChangeEven readers who like their fiction to come along with a bit of science or fantasy would do well to look outside the usual sections of the bookstore this year. There are some wonderful books being published with the flavor of genre but the writing of those better known for literary fiction that will make for excellent summer reading. I’ve just finished S.M. Wheeler’s Sea Change, for instance, and can recommend it highly. It’s Wheeler’s first novel, but she’s already demonstrated that she’s a talent to watch.

The QuarryWriter Iain Banks has died, far too young. The Guardian has a final interview with the man, who died before the publication of his latest (and last) book, The Quarry. Banks left behind not just a marvelous library of 30 novels, but also 11 rules of good writing that can move just about any author a bit further down the road into good characterization and plotting.

The Feminine MystiqueThe science fiction community is once again discussing diversity. Really, is it that hard to remember that there are people besides white males? Apparently it is, for some. Continuing the conversation, Chuck Wendig offers an insightful list of 25 things to know about sexism and misogyny in writing and publishing. I don’t get it. It’s nearly 50 years since Betty Friedan wrote The Feminine Mystique; why do we still have to debate the startling proposition that women are human beings?

Have you been complaining lately that a lot of what you read isn’t really all that good? There’s a reason for that — in fact, there are five. It seems to me that the most accurate of these rules is the one that says readers should look outside the bestseller lists.

WatchmenAnd on that note, perhaps you’ll decide that this is the summer that you should try an altogether different form of art: the comic. Buzzfeed can get you started with this list of the “canon” of comics. I can vouch for Alan Moore’s Watchmen, just for starters; there are many titles on this list that I’ve devoured with great pleasure. Comics aren’t just kid stuff, and haven’t been for a long time now. This list lengthened my list of books to look for rather considerably, though; the riches are there for the taking, and I plan to become increasingly wealthy.

What are the most exceptional epic fantasies of all time? Five different bloggers have weighed in on the question, and there is surprisingly little overlap on the lists after, oh, the first ten books or so. Several of the lists straddle different media, so don’t be too surprised when a movie or television show turns up. And don’t hesitate to join the discussion, either. It’s a great question!

Writers find inspiration anywhere and everywhere. I didn’t buy into this notion for a long time, believing that it took some sort of magic to fall across a plot and a few good characters, but that was before I met my husband, who has taught me how to find story ideas in something as mundane as a broken air conditioner. Lots of writers are inspired by their dreams. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t care to have H.P. Lovecraft’s dreams. Can you imagine thinking up Cthulhu by dreaming of tentacle monsters? Brrrr!

Hay on WyeIf you haven’t figured out where you’re vacationing this summer yet, you might want to consider the booklovers’ paradise known as Hay-on-Wye. This tiny town in Wales has a population of 1500 people and 30 used bookstores. Just remember to leave your Kindle at home.

If you’re going to be traveling more widely than that, this list of literary restaurants might come in handy. The BookBar in Denver looks like a small slice of heaven to me.

shoescloseI’ve got a pretty cool collection of book-related t-shirts, as I’ve mentioned before, but I’d never thought of book-related shoes. Don’t they look like fun? I’d go for a pair of flats instead of the heels, though: when you walk around with your nose stuffed in a book, it’s better to have fewer hazards to navigation.

The Seattle Public Library put together the world’s longest domino chain made of books. You’ve got to watch this; it’s awesome!

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Sunday Links, June 9, 2013

I’ve missed the last few weeks, having been tied up in attending the Nebula Weekend, getting ready to vacation, and vacationing. That means that this week’s helping of links is longer than usual — but it’s full of tastiness. Get your list of books to look for out, because you’re likely to be adding to it, regardless of your particular corner of the literary world.

2312The winners of the Nebula Awards have been announced.

The finalists for the 2013 Mythopoeic Awards have been announced.

The 2013 Aurealis Award winners have been announced.

Brides of Rollrock IslandMargo Lanagan’s Sea Hearts (published in the United States as The Brides of Rollrock Island) has won the 2013 Norma K. Hemming Award for excellence in the exploration of themes of race, gender, sexuality, class, and disability in Australian speculative fiction.

USA Today offers its list of hot summer reads.

tropical summer readsParade offers its own list of summer reading.

The Well-Readheads have some ideas about what you should read this summer as well.

Criminal Element has a long list of great mysteries and thrillers to chill your blood and set your heart racing this summer.

io9 provides a list of summer reads that are more action-packed than most summer movies. These aren’t new books — at least, not all of them — but they’re great reads.

If your taste in summer reading tends more towards the high-falutin’, this list is for you. I’ve read two of the twenty books recommended here, and if they’re anything to judge by, I should immediately go out and buy the remaining 18. Great stuff here.

There’s a wonderful list of fantasy novels those who wish to be well-versed in the genre can use as a guide; I’ve been working with it for a while, and though it presently needs to be updated, it’s a valuable guide. I’ll add bits here and there, such as this list of forgotten fantasy novels. A few, like Lud-in-the-Mist by Hope Mirlees, have been in my library forever, though I still haven’t gotten to them. You’re used to my refrain by now, I’m sure: so many books, so little time.

The Lies of Locke LamoraMany fantasy novels are wonderful reads, but have terrible covers. BuzzFeed lists 13 of them. I can definitely vouch for The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch; I had a good deal of fun reading that novel.

There are all kinds of geeks, and to each kind of geek, there is an appropriate book. Find the book that will satisfy your particular type of geekiness here.

LibraryDo you spend too much time in the library? These 25 warning signs can give you the answer to that question. Unfortunately, my local library isn’t very good, so I don’t hang out there — but I do place books on reserve, and drop by about once a week to pick up and drop off books. And yes, I do occasionally check to see what other people have being held for them. But that doesn’t mean I have a library habit, does it?

If you count authors as your best friends — even if you’ve never met them — you might be interested in this article from The Huffington Post about how you can help them out. I’ve been doing my share with reviews and gifts, not to mention recommending books to complete strangers in bookstores, at the breakfast table when I visit a bed and breakfast, or to the person the next beach towel over at the ocean. I was just talking up Jonathan Maberry to a young man I saw wearing a zombie tee shirt the other day. Why not give the books you love a boost, so that the authors can keep writing things you want to read?

I don’t believe any of those places is a weird place to talk about books, not when compared with the weird places discussed in this article. If pressed, I think I’d be compelled to say that the weirdest place I’ve talked about books is while naked on a masseuse’s table. How about you?

Amazon is going to start publishing fan fiction. It’s offering a terrible contract, but if all you want is to see your work published, then maybe this is the way to go. I’d rather read original work instead of fan fiction myself, but I’ll confess to having read a Harry Potter story or two in my time.

Have you noticed an uptick in books with single-word titles? Barnes & Noble has.

James PattersonWho are the highest paid authors of 2012? The answers might surprise you. I find it disheartening that the top author on the list is not so much a writer as a writing factory, turning out novels as if they were widgets. I enjoyed the early Alex Cross novels, but stopped reading them when they turned into books calculated to be bestsellers: three page chapters, three sentence paragraphs, simplistic characterizations, see-through plots. Wealth, after all, isn’t everything.

Well, the deal’s gone through: Skyhorse and Start have acquired Night Shade Books. It would be nice if Night Shade’s authors could be paid, and those whose books have been in limbo could see publication. And I’m hopeful that Night Shade’s quirky taste in books (which seems to parallel mine, more often than not) will cause the new publishers to publish great science fiction, fantasy and horror.

Publishers Weekly suggests that many authors are falling for a number of myths about digital publishing. It’s a timely warning, set forth in an intelligent article.

As an aspiring writer myself, I’m always fascinated by the habits of those who write for a living. HuffPo tells us about the rituals followed by famous authors. I’m particularly astonished at George Sand’s habit of writing ten pages a day. Ten! That’s a lot of writing.

JKRowling outlineWriters make outlines, and they’re very complicated.

Robert Jackson Bennett, the author of the brilliant Mr. Shivers and several other well-received novels, wonders whether we want to read about real, ordinary people or whether we just want to read about celebrities. Bennett ultimately comes down in favor of reality, but it’s how he gets there that’s interesting.

Not to be outdone, Brain Pickings offers its own take on the routines of famous writers. There is no overlap between the two lists at all, which is fairly interesting in and of itself.

Don’t be a writer, Matt Haig says, unless you want to be miserable. I chortled happily throughout this article, and resolved more than ever to become a writer, if it means being able to turn out such funny prose.

Larry Hodges provides 50 writing quotes, which as far as I can tell are quotations of his own thoughts, which makes the exercise a somewhat odd one. Still, there are some interesting thoughts here.

Hemingway and catEvery writer needs a cat. Here are some writers with their animals, which makes the writers look rather more cuddly than one would expect them to. The writers, not the cats. Stephen King doesn’t look in the least frightening when he’s petting a cat, for instance.

In the wake of the success of such television shows as “Game of Thrones” and “The Walking Dead,” a good many more science fiction, fantasy and horror programs are going to be appearing in the relatively near future. Kirkus runs them down for us, and suggests we might want to hurry up quick and read them. Me, I’m presently reading Under the Dome by Stephen King, which is coming to CBS on June 24.

Did you get stuck with an uncashed gift card from Borders when it vanished from the face of the earth? Here are some ideas for how to get use out of those little plastic rectangles. I’m rather taken with the idea of saving them in case Borders is ever resurrected. Not that I expect that to happen in my lifetime, mind you.

reading-is-my-super-power-mugI’ve been collecting tee shirts with literary themes for years now — bookstore logos, convention logos, and booklovers’ sayings have adorned me as I write (today’s tee shirt: “Books. Cats. Life is good.”) After reading this article, though, I might start collecting coffee mugs as well. I particularly like the one that says, “Reading Is My Superpower.” Indeed.

Book Expo American just ended a week or two ago. One of these years I’ve got to get myself there! Apparently BEA doesn’t just offer a lot of great books to those who wander the convention hall, but also a fair bit of book-related swag. I may need to get one of those onesies for my new great-niece.

Galleon attacked by krakenAnd here, to close, some lovely art made from books. I’d give a lot to own the ship being attacked by a kraken.

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Poetry Friday: “Although the wind …” by Izumi Shikibu

http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/hec2008001542/

Last night (trying to meet this Friday deadline), I opened the program and spread out my notes. Since the week before, I had wanted to write something about the damage caused by the tornadoes in Oklahoma. I went online to review some of the details and was caught up in a maelstrom of Breaking News as yet another set of tornadoes was moving through that area.

More people died, more were injured — the destruction deepened. After more than an hour of listening to reporters and meteorologists, of moving among news and chaser and social media sites, of viewing live video from 1,500 miles away, I was done in. Sorrowful and anxious — truly weary — I was in no mood to write up a post about anything, let alone tornadoes. There are several lessons I’ve yet to learn about becoming overwhelmed by our online and real-time worlds. Their spacious arrays of information and novelty also burden.

What did I want to say about last week’s tornadoes (made more piercingly necessary by last night’s)? Rather naively, I had searched at the Poetry Foundation site for poems marked by the keyword wind. Five brief lines from tenth century Japan (translated by Jane Hirshfield and Mariko Aratani) appeared near the top of the results:

Although the wind
blows terribly here,
the moonlight also leaks
between the roof planks
of this ruined house.

Terrible winds, damaged buildings, loss of protection, lack of shelter — and a certain undefinable sadness. Then, a metaphor; now, actually present.

The poem comes from centuries away, from the heady and heated environment of the Japanese Imperial Court. It has been collected with dozens of similarly brief pieces written by Izumi Shikibu. Many of them have to do with love; others with loss. I think all of them, truly, are about both.

The moments and years counted out, with some relationships ending and others beginning to emerge. Shikibu was writing about the landscape — her landscape — of personal and court relationships, of her husbands and lovers. She wrote eloquently about those deeply human connections and about their loss. She captured something profound about the beauty of the heartfelt longing that inevitably follows.

The folks in Oklahoma — our neighbors — must bury those who have died and care for those who have been injured. They face a monumental task in clearing away roof planks and rebuilding ruined houses. We do not always discover fulfillment where we hope to find it; our expectations are not always met.

Is it ever possible to see potential amid loss and destruction? Where would wholeness hide among the fragments of rubble?

No one of us need imagine what it feels like to be unfulfilled; we have only to remember.

Empty or open? Or both?

____________________

Izumi Shikibu (974–1034) was a poet who lived in and around the Japanese Imperial Court at Kyoto during a time of tremendous openness to artistic endeavor, to women, and to Buddhism. A brief passage from Jane Hirshfield’s introduction in The Ink Dark Moon: Love Poems by Onono Komachi and Izumi Shikibu, Women of the Ancient Court of Japan suggests something of Shikibu’s remarkable and remarkably untamed life:

Born in 974, she was the daughter of a lord. Despite her marriage to a provincial official and the birth of a daughter, Shikibu began a passionate liaison with the empress’s stepson; the resulting scandal left her divorced and disowned by her family. Three years later, a year after her first lover had died, his brother, Prince Atsumichi, sent Shikibu an exploratory poem, and thus began a still greater love.

Shikibu’s legacy? Her poems are revered a millennium after her death. And, Hirshfield notes, serve as “absolutely accurate and moving descriptions of our most common and central experiences … it is our own lives we find illuminated in them.”

(“Tornado, Oklahoma City, May” ca. 1913-1917) // from the Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division // Harris & Ewing Collection

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Poetry Friday: “The Way In” by Linda Hogan

http://www.flickr.com/photos/zizzy/4870052245/

The pink and purple and white canopies I mentioned recently have mostly given way to leafy clouds, the piercing yellow-green of springtime.

The hardiest bad-ass stems and tendrils are forcing themselves through cracks in sidewalks and retaining walls. Road and bridge repair crews have set up shop amid blooming orange traffic cones. College commencements and school graduations and artful recitals are underway and continuing.

Domestic progress is having its way.

Linda Hogan’s poem The Way In reminds us:

Sometimes the way to milk and honey is through the body.
Sometimes the way in is a song.
But there are three ways in the world: dangerous, wounding,
and beauty. …

The road to abundance necessarily requires the work of bodies and minds and spirits (where else comes the song?). I’m not sure what to make of “the three ways in the world” that are offered, two of which appear to contain sharp and pointy ends. Maybe the remaining handful of lines will clarify?

… To rise through hard earth, be plant
desiring sunlight, believing in water. …

The final five lines are a beautiful recounting of the way things work; they comfort and confront. To bring forth something that is not now here, something that is here must give way. And it won’t be easy; transformation takes work:

Sometimes the way to milk and honey is through the body.

My domestic progress these days will eventually encompass the beginning of the summer, but I must first endure the wintry end of another fiscal year. My desk blooms too, but with invoices and reports and spreadsheets.

The hardiest bad-ass documents are indeed pushing their way up and out, as much as I wish them cordoned by blooming orange traffic cones. I labor under a canopy of, yes, green, but the dollar-bill kind. So, my efforts at finishing tasks and meeting deadlines may not be as lithe and winsome as those of a dance recital, but there will be a certain effortless grace (if I do it right).

A budget? No fuss.

____________________

Linda Hogan is Writer-in-Residence for the Chickasaw Nation. Among her works of poetry are: The Book of Medicines, Indios: A Poem … A Performance, and Rounding the Human Corners from which “The Way In” has been drawn.

(“Honey” from zizzybaloobah / cc by-nc)

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Sunday Links, May 12, 2013

Life after LifeThe shortlist for the 2013 Women’s Prize for Fiction (formerly known as the Orange Prize) has been announced. It is referred to as “staggeringly strong,” and on the sole basis of Kate Atkinson’s Life After Life, which I read and loved, I’d have to agree.

The Locus Award finalists have been announced.

The finalists for the Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award have been announced.

The finalists for the John W. Campbell Memorial Award have been announced.

Dennis LehaneWho are the best contemporary writers of noir? Flavorwire names ten of them. I confess I haven’t even heard of more than half of them (those that don’t write horror fiction, to be precise, with the exception of Dennis Lehane), so it looks (as usual) like I have some catching up to do. So many books, so little time! It’s my constant refrain.

It must be tough to be Dan Brown — huge sales, more money than God, but absolutely no respect from the literary establishment. This piece from The Telegraph made me laugh until I cried. No wonder extraordinary measures are being taken to keep the book out of readers’ hands until the release date, making life difficult for everyone from bookstores to the secondary market — by which I mean those who write books “decoding” Brown’s work. The man’s an industry.

If you have trouble getting your writing done, perhaps you could benefit from these tips offered by David Farland. I was particularly taken with the advice to figure out what foods make you the most alert and ready to work. I usually eat only yogurt for breakfast, and I’m now rethinking that; perhaps an egg would help to battle the morning tiredness I usually battle. Or perhaps this is a biorhythm problem, another of Farland’s tips, and I should be reserving my most demanding work for the evening and even late at night, when I paradoxically feel the most awake. Certainly there’s much to explore here.

F. Scott FitzgeraldThese twenty-five photographs of authors help remind me that they’re as human as the rest of us — with, perhaps, a few exceptions! It’s an enjoyable gallery to scan through.

Book covers have a gender, which happens to be the same gender as the author and/or the perceived audience of the book. What this often means is that books written by women are disguised to be for women readers only, when in fact they could easily be enjoyed by men as well. There’s a challenge called “Cover Flip,” that asks readers to design a girly cover and a boyish cover for the same book, and a number of examples are available to leaf through at the linked site. It’s right on the nose. And it’s an interesting issue to ponder.

And while we’re considering feminism, consider how Deborah Copaken Kogan has found her career shaped by publishers and others looking to girlify her books. I hadn’t realized that authors had so little say in the titles of their books, though I knew that they don’t usually have much input on the covers (which has led to such things as a white girl being pictured on the cover even though the book was about a black girl — just ask Justine Larbelestier). I confess to feeling very discouraged about such things these days; it seems that everywhere you turn there’s another example of women being put down based on their genitals. You would think that fifty years after Betty Friedan, we’d have made more progress.

Peter Pan tattooI have never considered getting a tattoo, but these 50 tattoos inspired by books almost inspire me to get one.

I don’t usually recommend that people watch commercials, but hey, there are some great creative minds doing excellent work in that medium. This Audi commercial features Leonard Nimoy and Zachary Quinto doing an incredibly funny send-up of all things Spock, and is well worth your two-and-a-half minutes.

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Poetry Friday: “Heat” by Michael Chitwood

http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/fsa2000019359/PP/

Ironing, like so many other domestic chores, has about it the air of religion.

There is a compelling need for specific implements and special rituals, a curious balance of fire and water, a mix of dry and damp, and a fresh (unending!) supply of pristine garments — all looming overwhelmingly to wring order from chaos.

Michael Chitwood in Heat sums up such righteous labor with prophetic conciseness:

The crooked was made straight,
the wrinkled smooth …

And if you’re going to raise your young, then the stationary act of ironing does afford a platform and, likely, a rapt (or at least, captive) audience –

“If Old Scratch gets his claws
in your thigh or neck,
you burn a thousand years
and that is the first day.”

Her lessons are punctuated by the pounding iron. The sprinkled drops evaporate with a cautionary hiss. Which lasts longer — eternal damnation for the unwary or the household work of the always-weary?

The ‘rigid clothes’ and ‘matched seams’ eventually lie folded in neat piles or hanging in tidy rows. The smooth and cooling fabric lies in wait for a new day which brings its own temptations and challenges:

… Our bodies would ruin her work.

Wrinkles remain banished for just so long before appearing, once again, to signal our need for renewal.

____________________

Michael Chitwood, poet and author, is a lecturer in the Department of English and Comparative Literature at the University of North Carolina. His most recent collection of poetry — Poor-Mouth Jubilee (and its companion CD) — are published by Tupelo Press. “Heat” is a Library of Congress Poetry 180 poem.

(“Mrs. J. Webster ironing while her sons look on. Tehama County, California” 1940) // from the Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division // Russell Lee (1903-1986), photographer

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Pocket Review: The Morels by Christopher Hacker

morelsThe Morels
Christopher Hacker
Soho Press, 2013

Many years ago, I bought a house while I was living with my then-boyfriend. Things weren’t going well between us, to the extent that I felt more comfortable getting into a 30-year commitment with Chase Mortgage than with him. Still, we stayed together, in no small part because at one point he told me accusingly, “I know exactly what’s going to happen—we’re going to move and then you’re going to dump me.”

So of course I couldn’t, even though the relationship had clearly run its course and neither of us was happy. We made it almost a year after moving, at which point he had the good sense to leave, but up to that point he had effectively inoculated the dynamic between us; he had thrown down, and for me to confirm his prediction would have been dishonorable in the extreme.

Christopher Hacker’s debut novel, The Morels, feels a bit like that kind of a throw down. It’s a book that dares you not to like it—it is, in essence, a powerfully alienating story about the power of a story to alienate, a tale about the ways art can redeem and destroy, the pernicious probing of authorial intent, the fragility of families, and damage done that can’t be undone—or can it? It wants to ask the big questions, but it wants to make you uncomfortable in the process. Whether the purpose is to force a more honest reaction from an off-balance reader, or simply to pre-empt easy judgment, is hard to say.

Consider, for instance, the narrator. A featureless 30ish guy who lives with his mother and works in a movie theater, he is passive to the point of remaining nameless all the way through. While he’s working on a film with his old college roommate, he doesn’t seem to be any kind of budding auteur, biding his time in the service business in Tarantinoesque dues-paying—he’s just a slacker to whom things happen, there to move the action along and, for purposes of the story, eventually run into a childhood friend, Arthur Morel.

Morel was a mysterious teenager, prone to pronouncements of the worthlessness of art as a radical statement, and who had gotten himself kicked out of their prestigious music seminary (think: act of art as a radical statement). When their paths cross 14 years later, Arthur is a writer and adjunct professor, on the verge of publishing his second novel. He’s also a husband and father, and he draws our narrator into the circle of his family—lovely wife Penelope, precocious 11-year-old son Will—in the weeks just before his family, and his life, implode. The catalyst, in this case, is the novel. It tells a story about a family called the Morels: Arthur, Penelope, and Will; a mild domestic drama that mirrors their own lives, and then culminates in a disturbingly transgressive sexual act.

It’s a work of fiction, Arthur explains, even as his father-in-law sues him, his wife takes his son and leaves, he loses his job, and is arrested and put on trial. It’s a made up story, he insists as the situation snowballs. Our hapless narrator and his film crew eagerly trade in their second-rate Hamlet adaptation for a documentary about Arthur, shining a literal spotlight on his parents and intensely dysfunctional childhood. But the more they find out, the less we know; the truth only serves to obscure the facts here. Is Morel a true artist willing to lose everything to make a statement? Is he a shameless self-promoter? Is he a hopelessly damaged adult child of abuse and neglect? Is he inventing, or remembering, or something else?

As The Morels sets up some weighty questions, the reader will find some gnawing metafictional issues to wrestle with as well: Do the characters’ lack of depth actually give them rhetorical strength? Is our inability to like any of them our fault, as readers, for requiring relatability rather than real-world homeliness? Does the narrator’s lack of any defining personality turn out to serve a different purpose in the story altogether? Are we supposed to like this book? Hacker makes sure, by the end of the novel, that the reader doesn’t even have the comfort of falling back on the shallow conventions of taste.

Any story about art and morals with a protagonist called Art Morel isn’t going to make an initial claim to subtlety (there’s also a character who cries a lot named Delores, and young Will, who sets events spinning by sheer… you get the picture). But there are layers that surprise, some vivid writing, and Hacker offers up odd moments that are, for all the book’s intellectual exercise, like little jabs to the gut:

An officer who could have been one of Arthur’s students took down his name on a pad and asked him some question, each one a spoonful of grief.

At the same time, it’s disconcerting on a purely literary level, changing tenses in a way that might have been designed to mimic a camera pulling out for a wide shot and then back in, but that felt more like grit on the lens. Penelope’s infatuation with Arthur the Artist is hard to take as well; he offers her a chance to read the manuscript before its publication and veto the whole enterprise, and she declines out of some servility to creative mystery that doesn’t quite come off:

Wasn’t it refreshing, after years of seeing everything Arthur wasn’t, of having pointed out to her everything Arthur could never be—and the kind of family she could never have—to be shown what her husband actually was? “So no, I don’t want to go back to an Art who doesn’t make art. I’d rather he offend my parents, offend me.”

But the package as a whole kept turning my reactions back on myself: I’m sorry, can you not handle unpleasant characters? Is the story too ugly for you? Is it making you think too hard? I’m sure there are some Anne Tyler novels on the shelf over there—those are nice. There’s something passive-aggressive about the book’s stance, and at the same time accomplished; you have to admire the ways it toys with you, even if you have reservations about how you’re being treated. The Morels knows you want to break up with it, but has no intention of letting you off the hook that easily.

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Open Letters Monthly, May 2013

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It looks as though April showers—and snowstorms—have finally brought a few May flowers. With or without showers, we also have the May issue of Open Letters Monthly, which comes with some choice buds and blossoms of its own:

Rohan Maitzen gives us a review of Kate Atkinson’s Life After Life… and then the review that might have been… and frankly, had she kept going I would have kept reading.

Max Ross looks at the divided lives of André Aciman’s Harvard Square.

Reviewing the reviewers, Elisa Gabbert takes a look at how Kate Zambreno’s “critical memoir” Heroines has been received.

Pedja Jurisic takes issue with the backward-looking myth-making of Téa Obreht’s The Tiger’s Wife.

John Cotter approves of Mark Wallace’s forays into fiction, Dead Carnival and The Quarry and the Lot.

Steve Donoghue clears off the coffee table for Abbeville Press’ handsome reissue of John James Audubon’s iconic Birds of America.

And speaking of iconic… Steve Danziger takes a sideways look at the “garbled madness” of Richard Hell’s biography, I Dreamed I Was a Very Clean Tramp.

Maria Rybakova muses on a father’s absence and Marco Roth’s The Scientists.

Colleen Shea looks at Yoko Ogawa’s Buddhism-inspired story cycle Revenge: Eleven Dark Tales.

Anthony Stewart is happily surprised by Shane Book’s Ceiling of Sticks: “the verse introduces us to the world as we thought we knew it, but then asks a lot more of our perceptions than it is our habit to commit.”

Greg Waldmann piques my interest by declaring Marc Ambinder and D.B. Grady’s Deep State: Inside the Government Secrecy Industry a “very useful and annoying book.”

From Michael Ives, an original poem excerpted from his Soft Perimeter.

Jonathan Aprea tracks Ben Mirov’s through his poetry collection, Hider Roser.

Steve Danziger resurfaces with an interview with this month’s cover artist Laura Carton about her fascinating photographs of porn-less porn sets, “a kind of Rorschach Test of viewer perversity” (I’m not sure I agree with that, but if it gets readers to click through to the weird and wonderful art then I’m all for the pull quote).

Joshua Harmon waxes eloquent Talking Heads, Bohannon, and the death of cool by hyperlink.

Douglass Shand-Tucci continues his American Aristocracy series with the art of Copley Square.

Irma Heldman’s “It’s a Mystery,” gives us a bit of the British and Irish together, with her look at Mick Herron’s Dead Lions and Stephen Talty’s Black Irish.

Phillip A. Lobo has an imperative for Bioshock Infinite: “Go play this game. I unequivocally exhort you to skip this review until you’ve already finished the game, or if you truly intend never to play it.”

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Sunday Links, May 5, 2013

The Edgar Award winners have been announced.

Dark EdenDark Eden by Chris Beckett has won Arthur C. Clarke Awardthe Arthur C. Clarke Award. It looks like it’s been acquired for publication in the United States, so perhaps we’ll get a chance to read it soon.

The Scott Prize for Short Stories has been awarded to Kirsty Logan for her collection, The Rental Heart and Other Fairytales, which will be published in November.

the drowning girlThe nominees for the Shirley Jackson Awards have been announced. I think this might be my favorite awards, because the judges customarily roam so widely. I note that this is at least the third major award for which Caítlin R. Kiernan’s The Drowning Girl has been nominated this year. I really need to get to that book soon! I had no idea that Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl has a fantastical element to it; that’s on my Kindle, waiting for my attention, too. And, of course, I’ve just ordered the two novels on the ballot that I don’t own. These lists, they get me every time.

Why read the classics? Because they can tell us a lot about ourselves and make us feel it, that’s why, as this article explains.

comicsSurely there are some readers of comics — excuse me, “graphic novels” — around here, right? If so, you’re in for quite a summer. This article features 13 alternative comics — comics outside the universe of Marvel and DC — that sound like great fun.

Laird Barron has steadily been updating his list of horror writers any fan of the genre will want to discover. I’ve read at least a little of most of these writers, but there are still some who are new to me — and I’m looking forward to reading them.

Wouldn’t you think that science fiction would be the last genre that would be subject to sexism? It’s forward-looking genre, one that is based on reason and science, both of which are the opposite of sexism, at least in my mind. But science fiction has a long history of extreme sexism, so that women in the past routinely changed their names (like James Tiptree, Jr., who was really Alice Sheldon) or used their initials only (like C.L. Moore). I’d like to say that the problem has receded in the 21st century, but alas, it very definitely has not. Author Patty Jansen writes that sexism is alive and well in hard science fiction. You’d think we didn’t have any females who understood science! But folks, it’s time to wake up and smell the coffee: we do. Lots of them. Start with C.L. Cherryh, Nancy Kress and Lois McMaster Bujold, and then come back to me for more.

If you’d like to do your part to correct the sexism that pervades just about all aspects of the literary, you might consider using this list of 101 women worth reading. It’s an amazing list, and I’ll be referring to it to guide my own reading for some time to come, because I’ve only read about half the authors on it (though I own books by a good many more).

Gertrude Stein rejectionI’ve been learning the joys of rejection lately, as I start sending my writing out to various magazines, both literary and genre. It’s the first time I’ve done this since my college days, at the latest, and as far as I can tell the biggest impact of electronic communications is that you can now get rejected in mere days. Sigh. I’ll keep trying. In the meantime, I’ll take comfort from these harsh rejection letters of undeniably brilliant work. Maybe one day one of my rejection slips will show up in a similar article. Hey, it could happen!

I’ve been reading the New York Times Book Review for about two decades now, with increasing dismay at its descent into graphs and charts for pages and pages and pages, fewer reviews, and the more-than-occasional really mean review written by the author’s enemy. I don’t think I agree that reviews are “an outdated form,” but this writer clearly has a point about the NYTBR needing a serious facelift. Maybe the new editor will make it a publication of the time, instead of one that tries to follow old conventions and fails.

I’ve posted before about the Night Shade Books meltdown. Here’s what it means to one new author. Imagine finally getting published, only to have it all ripped away by the impending bankruptcy of your publisher! Ugh. I sure hope things work out for these writers, because Night Shade had a tendency to publish people whose work I really wanted to read.

Room to Read is a charity organization dedicated to helping kids in Africa and Asia attain higher levels of literacy, and, therefore, a ladder out of poverty. I don’t think there’s much you can do that will change a kid’s life than to make him or her a reader. Add this to your list of worthy charities.

Writing is hard! A new writer learns lessons about adverbs, point of view and emotions.

Oxford English DictionaryThe chief editor of the Oxford English Dictionary discusses some interesting word origins. John Simpson is stepping down from his position as chief editor later this year.

These vintage photos of librarians are fun to look through.

Weird Things CustomersI’ve always wanted to work in a bookstore. Or at least, I thought I did until I read this list of weird things customers say in bookstores. I’m proud to say that my questions have never been quite so weird; I’m more likely just to ask for a book they not only don’t have, but never even thought to stock. I have strange taste, I guess.

This doesn’t really have anything to do with books, but it struck me as sufficiently entertaining that I want to share: historical figures updated to today’s looks. Admiral Lord Nelson doesn’t look all that different, really; Shakespeare is fun; and Elizabeth I seems perfect to me. But Marie Antoinette is unrecognizable.

I’ve always loved fairy tales. In fact, I attribute my love of reading to the fact that my mother used to read to me from The Golden Book of Fairy Tales at naptime when I was a child. I have vivid memories of the illustrations in that book; and it sure helped me fall in love with my husband when he purchased a copy for me on one of our first dates (which included a stop at a bookstore, of course). That’s why these fantasy photographs hit me so hard. They are about as beautiful a series of photographs as I’ve ever seen. Hope you enjoy them, too.

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