writes poems and stories.
It looks like the fine people at Lamination Colony and No Colony are having a contest. It’s got a giant list of prizes from outside contributors, including some homemade art, old VHS tapes, and a random selection of (mostly used) books. And the rules are really simple: use less than 2000 words and send it by June 5. No entry fee or anything!
Here’s the website. You should probably go submit. I’m planning to.
A few things:
1. I’m in the middle of Violet Weingarten’s Mrs. Beneker. It’s this book that came out in the late 1960s and deals with a lot of what I assume Mrs. Dalloway deals with. That Woolf novel keeps popping up so I should probably read it soon; though I probably won’t because things keep getting in the way. Regardless, Mrs. Beneker isn’t that great and I probably won’t talk about it again (though I will finish it because I’m more than halfway there and I might as well). But if you’re interested in half-rate feminist angst, it’s available from some Amazon sellers for a penny.
2. I walked to the library today and picked up a few things, though they didn’t have what I was primarily looking for (E.M. Forster’s Maurice). I wasn’t all that surprised. Hopefully I can find that at the used book store tomorrow.
3. I’ve decided to write about all the T.C. Boyle books I’m reading this summer in one post right before I return to Emerson. I don’t know why, but it might be fun to compare them. I’ve already read After the Plague and Talk Talk and purchased Drop City, Tooth and Claw, and A Friend of the Earth. So you can maybe look forward to a post about at least the five of them in August. I will not be forgetting my friend T.C.
I just finished Michael Cunningham’s The Hours and while it was a fantastic read – really, truly superb – I can’t help but wonder if a lot of its meaning is lost on me since I haven’t read Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, around which most of this story centers. I’m surely not the first to be impressed by how Cunningham weaved the stories of these three women around each other, reflected by a single piece of fiction.
So now I’m going to go back and read Mrs. Dalloway. I kind of feel like it’s my duty to do so at this point, if just to get a glimpse as to why the lives of these women are so tragic. Hopefully I’ll get something else out of it.
As far as The Hours is concerned, however, I was surprised to see Cunningham working the effects of AIDS into the narrative. It seemed kind of out-of-place amidst the turmoil of the typical housewife. Though it was nice to see Clarissa in a context outside of her day-to-day routine (which, interestingly enough, is something we never see). I don’t know what I’m getting at…it was just something worth mentioning.
I’m taking two quotes from the book, though, which will seem distinctly odd out of context. Regardless, I’ve already written a poem based on the line “a bee thumps heavily, insistently, against a windowpane.” And I’ve got to do something with “Where do they come from, these impeccable beauties who work as salesclerks? For what do they hope?” if only because it reminds me of this one cashier at the Newbury H&M in Boston. He was pretty much Bruce Weber’s dream. I’d think.
See, good literature has contemporary implications!
Sarah and I just did out first blogged art critique over at http://iwantthosepaintz.wordpress.com/. I’d suggest you go check it out, but that would be incredibly self-serving. So I can only say that I think it’s pretty good and maybe a little bit funny and it might bring joy to your life. Or it might not.
I bought a red belt at Urban Outfitters last week and I’m wearing it today.
One thing that upsets me about the literary world is its lack of commitment to the short story form and short story collections in particular. People seem so taken up with their book-length narratives that shorter works are getting the shaft (in the print world, at least).
So it pleases me immensely when I find good collections of short stories out there. Kevin Wilson’s Tunneling to the Center of the Earth is one such book. I’ve been mildly obsessed with / stalker-esque about him since The Emerson Review (the lit mag I work for) published his story “Death Grip” in the 38th edition. I’ve been tracking down other stories he’s published and this book seems to be the current culmination of my efforts:
I can’t pin down exactly what I find so appealing about Wilson’s stories, as they begin to seem almost formulaic in their superbness. Each story has something odd about it. One considers the word surreal, but that doesn’t seem quite right. These stories do not remain in the realm of reality yet somehow seem oddly realistic. The stories could never happen yet seem oddly plausible.
For example, two characters in “Blowing Up on the Spot” simultaneously spontaneously combust. Spontaneous combustion is a practically unheard of phenomenon on its own, but two happening concurrently? And in “The Shooting Man” a group of circus performers travel the country with a group of men who will one day be forced to shoot themselves in the head.
Things that could happen but probably won’t (Like you buying this book? I hope not.).
But my favorite story of the collection is “Birds in the House,” in which a group of four sons have to follow the strange wishes of their deceased mother to win her estate. The contest itself is brilliantly simple and the story manages to tackle the issues facing multiracial children in an unforgiving environment, under ridiculous circumstances.
So while I didn’t particularly enjoy a few of the stories – namely “The Dead Sister Handbook” and “The Choir Director Affair” – I found the collection pleasing overall…a definite must read. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to get back to stalking Wilson. I think this list is going to help.
