At last, gush after gush of clotted red gore, as if it had been the purple lees of red wine, shot into the frighted air; and falling back again, ran dripping down his motionless flanks into the sea. His heart had burst!
Moby Dick
Friday, June 18, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
the wine dark (and edgy) sea
Last month I reviewed a short story collection for the LA Times. Established literary authors, mostly, doing crime fiction. I couldn’t give it a bad review. The stories were deft, fun—vacation reading. The setup—todays great authors write about sex and crime. Dark, edgy…hmm.
Last year I went to one of those dinners that book buyers occasionally get to attend. It was at a really nice restaurant in Rockridge (Brooklyn West—cute eyeglasses, baby strollers…). The author had come up from the ranks, big time school, Yaddo. Paris Review, other major journals that nobody reads. Stories in the New Yorker. Well crafted stuff. Pre dinner chat, before the author came in, was dominated by somebody from the publisher, proclaiming the novel “dark and edgy”. She lowered her eyes before making the claim, hunched her shoulders, then looked up, between “Dark” and “Edgy”, eyes wider. During dinner (fresh, local ingredients. Of course) I heard the word “dark” half dozen times. In the world of mainstream publishing dark was the new black.
I’d read the novel. It held my interest—a going away to college, coming of age in the ( 60’s, or 70’s or fill in your own decade, hair style, slang terms….) book. Featured a possibly psycho student, but not too psycho. This was a literary novel, not crime fiction. It was well written, in that MFA way. No big mistakes.
Dark and Edgy?
I’ve recently read some dark and edgy novels—Nothing Left for the Dead by M. Cazadores, the reprint of Sin Soracco’s Low Bite, last year’s I-5 by Summer Brenner. I’m going to do more reviewing in this blog, so I’ll get to these. But for now—I’m sitting at my desk with the New Yorker’s Under Forty issue. I’ve read some stories, parts of others. They read as one long work— could have been written by the same person. This amazes me, considering the cultural and racial diversity of the writers. Why so? A sort of studied, nonchalant style, a nod to their various cultures—lots of nodding, actually. Serious enough to be dubbed “dark”. Small gestures. Small. The author photos (drawings, actually) tell me something. Nobody’s throwing caution to the wind here. Everybody’s groomed. Subtle nodding in the direction of identity—she could be Hispanic, he could be gay, he went bald had to shave his head….I so often think of the Burroughs quote about hippies—“not a decent fuck in the entire generation”. I can’t imagine these people having over-the-top sex, and, likewise, I think, I can’t imagine these people saying the wrong thing at an awards dinner, embracing an unpopular cause—or, also likewise, twisting the living shit out of a sentence, tossing off a line that they may regret later, following a blind narrative ally, going on a little too long, cutting something off short—all important elements in writing fiction.
Mainstream American “literary” fiction is, mostly, bland, forgettable, throwaway stuff.
Am trying to understand why this is true—and why it’s esp. true in the U.S. Or maybe it’s only true in the U.S.—I don’t have the knowledge to know this, but I sense it, for instance, when I read Bolano.
I don’t think I get it, but then maybe I do.
It’s over for America. We’re on the skids. Undeniable fact. It’s breaking down. Most people have sensed this for twenty years or so, in a theoretical way. Lately, it’s real and it’s here.
Tough trying to make a living in quality lit—with the economy (hell, the entire culture) doing a fast crash. If you’ve got that MFA, and the New Yorker wants you… tough to rock the boat. Especially tough to rock a boat that’s so obviously sinking. Fifty years ago, when Krim wrote Making It, things were different. Those guys (mostly guys) were going for the big prize, taking big, arrogant swings. These people are holding their shit in, hoping to stay afloat. First instinct—the survival instinct--is to keep floating, a little longer—maybe somebody else, somewhere, will save us.
But perhaps a strong survival instinct is a bad thing, in the arts. Perhaps, at times, the most responsible thing a “literary” writer can do is to, at first, seem irresponsible. Maybe it’s time to kick a bigger hole in that leaky boat. Sink it, see who swims to shore, see who can build a new boat.
As mentioned before, I’ve read some fiction that does this. Somewhere, between the literary mainstream (ugh) and the avant guarde (yuk!) there’s dark, edgy stuff. And also some light.
Last year I went to one of those dinners that book buyers occasionally get to attend. It was at a really nice restaurant in Rockridge (Brooklyn West—cute eyeglasses, baby strollers…). The author had come up from the ranks, big time school, Yaddo. Paris Review, other major journals that nobody reads. Stories in the New Yorker. Well crafted stuff. Pre dinner chat, before the author came in, was dominated by somebody from the publisher, proclaiming the novel “dark and edgy”. She lowered her eyes before making the claim, hunched her shoulders, then looked up, between “Dark” and “Edgy”, eyes wider. During dinner (fresh, local ingredients. Of course) I heard the word “dark” half dozen times. In the world of mainstream publishing dark was the new black.
I’d read the novel. It held my interest—a going away to college, coming of age in the ( 60’s, or 70’s or fill in your own decade, hair style, slang terms….) book. Featured a possibly psycho student, but not too psycho. This was a literary novel, not crime fiction. It was well written, in that MFA way. No big mistakes.
Dark and Edgy?
I’ve recently read some dark and edgy novels—Nothing Left for the Dead by M. Cazadores, the reprint of Sin Soracco’s Low Bite, last year’s I-5 by Summer Brenner. I’m going to do more reviewing in this blog, so I’ll get to these. But for now—I’m sitting at my desk with the New Yorker’s Under Forty issue. I’ve read some stories, parts of others. They read as one long work— could have been written by the same person. This amazes me, considering the cultural and racial diversity of the writers. Why so? A sort of studied, nonchalant style, a nod to their various cultures—lots of nodding, actually. Serious enough to be dubbed “dark”. Small gestures. Small. The author photos (drawings, actually) tell me something. Nobody’s throwing caution to the wind here. Everybody’s groomed. Subtle nodding in the direction of identity—she could be Hispanic, he could be gay, he went bald had to shave his head….I so often think of the Burroughs quote about hippies—“not a decent fuck in the entire generation”. I can’t imagine these people having over-the-top sex, and, likewise, I think, I can’t imagine these people saying the wrong thing at an awards dinner, embracing an unpopular cause—or, also likewise, twisting the living shit out of a sentence, tossing off a line that they may regret later, following a blind narrative ally, going on a little too long, cutting something off short—all important elements in writing fiction.
Mainstream American “literary” fiction is, mostly, bland, forgettable, throwaway stuff.
Am trying to understand why this is true—and why it’s esp. true in the U.S. Or maybe it’s only true in the U.S.—I don’t have the knowledge to know this, but I sense it, for instance, when I read Bolano.
I don’t think I get it, but then maybe I do.
It’s over for America. We’re on the skids. Undeniable fact. It’s breaking down. Most people have sensed this for twenty years or so, in a theoretical way. Lately, it’s real and it’s here.
Tough trying to make a living in quality lit—with the economy (hell, the entire culture) doing a fast crash. If you’ve got that MFA, and the New Yorker wants you… tough to rock the boat. Especially tough to rock a boat that’s so obviously sinking. Fifty years ago, when Krim wrote Making It, things were different. Those guys (mostly guys) were going for the big prize, taking big, arrogant swings. These people are holding their shit in, hoping to stay afloat. First instinct—the survival instinct--is to keep floating, a little longer—maybe somebody else, somewhere, will save us.
But perhaps a strong survival instinct is a bad thing, in the arts. Perhaps, at times, the most responsible thing a “literary” writer can do is to, at first, seem irresponsible. Maybe it’s time to kick a bigger hole in that leaky boat. Sink it, see who swims to shore, see who can build a new boat.
As mentioned before, I’ve read some fiction that does this. Somewhere, between the literary mainstream (ugh) and the avant guarde (yuk!) there’s dark, edgy stuff. And also some light.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
San Francisco Zen Center Presents:
The Al-Mutanabbi Street Broadside Project Exhibition
Friday, April 2
7:30 - 9:30 pm
300 Page Street
San Francisco The San Francisco Zen Center is proud to announce the first US exhibition of the al-Mutanabbi Street Broadside Project—in its entirety of 130 works—commemorating the 2007 car bombing of Baghdad’s al-Mutanabbi Street. Please join SFZC on Friday, April 2 for the exhibition opening, featuring a poetry reading by contributing authors from the anthology Al-Mutanabbi Street Starts Here, including project founder, Beau Beausoleil.
As the historic center of Baghdad book-selling, al-Mutanabbi Street—named for the famed 10th century classical Arab poet—is a winding street filled with bookstores and outdoor book stalls. It had been the heart and soul of the Baghdad literary and intellectual community. Though it ran through an area that primarily consisted of Shia and Sunni Muslims, the street was visited by all Iraqis.
Letterpress printing has historically been the platform by which many cultures found out about current events. Put up quickly in the places where people walk and gather, their visually bold and easily accessible messages spread the word simply and concisely. The Al-Mutanabbi Street collection, which includes works from artists around the globe, likewise announces that this attack on culture took place, establishing its inclusion as part of a cultural community that has no geographic bounds. These Broadsides provide a visible starting place for our collective grief or aspirations for a more just society; the al-Mutanabbi Street Broadsides ask what it means to erase culture.
The Al-Mutanabbi Street Coalition has been organizing readings and other events since April 2007. Over 130 letterpress printers have contributed broadsides to this project that speak to the enduring power of poetry and art.
TICKETS: This event is free and open to the public. Any donations will go to Doctors Without Borders.
The Al-Mutanabbi Street Broadside Project Exhibition
Friday, April 2
7:30 - 9:30 pm
300 Page Street
San Francisco The San Francisco Zen Center is proud to announce the first US exhibition of the al-Mutanabbi Street Broadside Project—in its entirety of 130 works—commemorating the 2007 car bombing of Baghdad’s al-Mutanabbi Street. Please join SFZC on Friday, April 2 for the exhibition opening, featuring a poetry reading by contributing authors from the anthology Al-Mutanabbi Street Starts Here, including project founder, Beau Beausoleil.
As the historic center of Baghdad book-selling, al-Mutanabbi Street—named for the famed 10th century classical Arab poet—is a winding street filled with bookstores and outdoor book stalls. It had been the heart and soul of the Baghdad literary and intellectual community. Though it ran through an area that primarily consisted of Shia and Sunni Muslims, the street was visited by all Iraqis.
Letterpress printing has historically been the platform by which many cultures found out about current events. Put up quickly in the places where people walk and gather, their visually bold and easily accessible messages spread the word simply and concisely. The Al-Mutanabbi Street collection, which includes works from artists around the globe, likewise announces that this attack on culture took place, establishing its inclusion as part of a cultural community that has no geographic bounds. These Broadsides provide a visible starting place for our collective grief or aspirations for a more just society; the al-Mutanabbi Street Broadsides ask what it means to erase culture.
The Al-Mutanabbi Street Coalition has been organizing readings and other events since April 2007. Over 130 letterpress printers have contributed broadsides to this project that speak to the enduring power of poetry and art.
TICKETS: This event is free and open to the public. Any donations will go to Doctors Without Borders.
Friday, March 5, 2010
and this just in
Double was just reviewed on the Urban Outfitters blog.
Not sure what to think about this--will I be on their
book table, next to the cat books, sex books, drinking
games...is this my big chance to corrupt the youth of
America? and who is this Molly person?
The Incredible Double
Corporate tricksters, poets, conspiracy theorists, nutjobs and cult members all figure into Owen Hill's mystery novel The Incredible Double, released by the tiny (but well-regarded) PM Press. The book's description is its own endorsement.
-Molly
Not sure what to think about this--will I be on their
book table, next to the cat books, sex books, drinking
games...is this my big chance to corrupt the youth of
America? and who is this Molly person?
The Incredible Double
Corporate tricksters, poets, conspiracy theorists, nutjobs and cult members all figure into Owen Hill's mystery novel The Incredible Double, released by the tiny (but well-regarded) PM Press. The book's description is its own endorsement.
-Molly
two by Darrell Gray
These are from Halos of Debris, Poltroon Press,1984
Always loved the feel/design of this book. Also the cover photos by Kathryn Sylva. My copy is a little worn--I'm afraid to open it too wide, might split--will have to hunt down another.
FEARING WHAT WE WISH
A bird
flies backward
to become the first sign of morning
Time simmers
and runs
like young un-
requited love
I too am young-
so young my fingers fuse
into one blob when I try to write
I have been told
the very old
dance at the violet center
FLYING COLORS
Some day, if you are good enough
They'll run you up the pole
And in full view
Of helicopters
And routine nuns
You'll be the gentle monster
they once knew
Alone and on display
With flying colors
Always loved the feel/design of this book. Also the cover photos by Kathryn Sylva. My copy is a little worn--I'm afraid to open it too wide, might split--will have to hunt down another.
FEARING WHAT WE WISH
A bird
flies backward
to become the first sign of morning
Time simmers
and runs
like young un-
requited love
I too am young-
so young my fingers fuse
into one blob when I try to write
I have been told
the very old
dance at the violet center
FLYING COLORS
Some day, if you are good enough
They'll run you up the pole
And in full view
Of helicopters
And routine nuns
You'll be the gentle monster
they once knew
Alone and on display
With flying colors
Monday, March 1, 2010
Crime in the City: Crime/Noir writers
Crime in the City: Crime/Noir writers
Wed., March 17, 7:30 pm (free)
CounterPulse
1310 Mission Street
San Francisco, CA 94103
(415) 626-2060
"Crime fiction is almost like a product of capitalism. It's about social inequality" --Ian Rankin, best-selling crime novelist
Join four of the finest exponents of crime and noir as they discuss how fiction is not just a mirror to the seamier sides of life, but the
proverbial hammer with which to shape it.
Owen Hill is the author of two novels and many books of poetry. Of his latest, The Incredible Double, David Ulin of the Los Angeles Times said,"...here we have the essence of noir, a life lived at the edges". He lives in Berkeley, where he works as a bookseller and curates a reading series.
Jim Nisbet, long regarded as one of fiction's best kept secrets, is about to claim 2010 as his own, with the publication of two new novels, and the reissuing of ten of his previous classics!
novel of sex-trafficking, I-5 made numerous book of the year lists for 2009, and is an underground best-seller.
Peter Maravelis is the best-selling editor of San Francisco Noir and San Francisco Noir 2. He has worked at City Lights bookstore for many years as the readings co-ordinator.
Co-sponsored by PM Press.
Wed., March 17, 7:30 pm (free)
CounterPulse
1310 Mission Street
San Francisco, CA 94103
(415) 626-2060
"Crime fiction is almost like a product of capitalism. It's about social inequality" --Ian Rankin, best-selling crime novelist
Join four of the finest exponents of crime and noir as they discuss how fiction is not just a mirror to the seamier sides of life, but the
proverbial hammer with which to shape it.
Owen Hill is the author of two novels and many books of poetry. Of his latest, The Incredible Double, David Ulin of the Los Angeles Times said,"...here we have the essence of noir, a life lived at the edges". He lives in Berkeley, where he works as a bookseller and curates a reading series.
Jim Nisbet, long regarded as one of fiction's best kept secrets, is about to claim 2010 as his own, with the publication of two new novels, and the reissuing of ten of his previous classics!
novel of sex-trafficking, I-5 made numerous book of the year lists for 2009, and is an underground best-seller.
Peter Maravelis is the best-selling editor of San Francisco Noir and San Francisco Noir 2. He has worked at City Lights bookstore for many years as the readings co-ordinator.
Co-sponsored by PM Press.
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