For all of y’all literary types who fancy big, sprawling books…it doesn’t get much bigger, or more sprawling than this within contemporary letters (well, maybe this, but…): Join in and read one of the great texts from the late David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest. With groups on the Twitter and the Facebook helping with motivation there is no better time than the present.
People say stuff like this out of the side of their mouth all the time, but this book changed my life, introduced me to a different way of viewing the world, tied me to other people in a way no other book has done. Yes, there are over a thousand pages here, but contrary to what many critics have said, there is not a word out of place, nothing superfluous here, I promise. Thanks, Dave, we miss you.
(pic from wikipedia)
Posted in Art, Event, Literature, People, Personal
Tagged And But So, Books, David Foster Wallace, DFW, Infinite Jest, Infinite Summer, Literature, My Heart Remains Broken
Every once in a while, Pittsburgh attracts talent who actually come back and visit and what not. Michael Chabon, Pulitizer Prize winner for The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, will be at Joseph Beth Booksellers at the South Side Works on Friday, May 2nd at 7pm, signing the paperback of his The Yiddish Policemen’s Union. Ordinary peeps can get tickets starting April 28th. I saw Mr. Chabon at the Waldorf a few years back, amongst a great group of authors and speakers (Peter Jennings, Alice Sebold), and he just blew me away. It’s great when such a talented individual is so down to earth, and it will be nice to see him again…Plus, he has some history in the Burgh, if you didn’t know.
Also, David Sedaris, as well as brilliant person and funny as hell, is at Joseph Beth’s on June 8th at 2pm. (Check out the J. Beth’s Blog for updates.)
Ms. Oates, who is an old fav of mine, and has written a book or two, has an interesting new work out, Wild Nights, where she imagines the final days of five literary monuments: Edgar Allen Poe, Emily Dickinson, Ernest Hemingway, Mark Twain, and Henry James. I haven’t read it yet, but the Times has a mini-review up here. Sounds more than interesting.
Posted in Art, Literature, Women
Tagged Edgar Allen Poe, Emily Dickinson, Ernest Hemingway, Fiction, Fictional Biography, Henry James, Joyce Carol Oates, Literature, Mark Twain, New York Times, Wild Nights