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  • 23 Jan
    09:15 am
    Yet nobody requires the existence of a standard and a general pressure to conform more than the person who wishes to assume a position outside it. It is essential for the creative writer that there be, or be perceived to be, a usual way of saying things, if a new or unusual way is to stand out and to provoke some excitement. So when D. H. Lawrence in Women in Love writes of Gudrun’s insomnia after first making love to Gerald that she was “destroyed into perfect consciousness,” he needs the reader to sense at once that this is syntactically anomalous; a person can be “transformed into,” “turned into,” “changed into” but not “destroyed into.” The syntactical shock underlines Lawrence’s unconventional view of consciousness as a negative rather than positive state, which again is emphasized by the unexpected use of the word “perfect,” rather than a more immediately understandable and neutral “intense."
    Tim Parks, “In Praise of the Language Police”, New York Review of Books (“You have to have rules to break ‘em,” said Tim Parks eloquently)
    • #tim parks
    • #new york review of books
    • #writing
    • #editors
  • 10 Apr
    09:20 am
    His favorite example is the rainbow. For the rainbow experience to happen we need sunshine, raindrops, and a spectator. It is not that the sun and the raindrops cease to exist if there is no one there to see them. Manzotti is not a Bishop Berkeley. But unless someone is present at a particular point no colored arch can appear. The rainbow is hence a process requiring various elements, one of which happens to be an instrument of sense perception. It doesn’t exist whole and separate in the world nor does it exist as an acquired image in the head separated from what is perceived (the view held by the “internalists” who account for the majority of neuroscientists); rather, consciousness is spread between sunlight, raindrops, and visual cortex, creating a unique, transitory new whole, the rainbow experience. Or again: the viewer doesn’t see the world; he is part of a world process."
    Tim Parks, “The Mind Outside My Head”, New York Review of Books (what a fantastic way of thinking about the world)
    • #tim parks
    • #new york review of books
    • #riccardo manzotti
    • #rainbows
    • #perception
    • #consciousness
  • 29 Feb
    11:15 am
    Minds grow by questioning things, and adolescence is a great period of questions. Mark Twain and H. L. Mencken learned to cross-examine the Bible all on their own, without any help at all from college. An unquestioned faith is not faith but rote recitation. The opposite of such questioning is not deep belief but arrested development."
    Garry Wills, “Santorum’s Arrested Development”, New York Review of Books (I couldn’t agree more with this article)
    • #rick santorum
    • #garry wills
    • #New York Review of Books
    • #questions
    • #adolescence
    • #faith
  • 03 Feb
    08:40 am
    He spends all his time at the window now, looking down at the earth. He says little or nothing. He simply wants to look, do nothing but look. The oceans, the continents, the archipelagoes. We are configured in what is called a cross-orbit series and there is no repetition from one swing around the earth to the next. He sits there looking. He takes meals at the window, does checklists at the window, barely glancing at the instruction sheets as we pass over tropical storms, over grass fires and major ranges. I keep waiting for him to return to his prewar habit of using quaint phrases to describe the earth: it’s a beach ball, a sun-ripened fruit. But he simply looks out the window, eating almond crunches, the wrappers floating away."
    Don DeLillo, “Human Moments in World War III”, from The Angel Esmerelda: Nine Stories (I need to read more DeLillo, evidently; also, I wish Charles Baxter could review every book)
    • #don delillo
    • #the angel esmerelda
    • #books
    • #charles baxter
    • #new york review of books
  • 06 Jul
    09:10 am

    excerpt from Memories of Chekhov, by Peter Sekirin

    Ivan Belousov, “About A.P. Chekhov,” from Thirty Days (1929)

    Anton Pavlovich sat in front of a fire-place, looking at the flames. From time to time, he tore a piece of bark from the birch log in front of him, and threw it in the fireplace, obviously thinking intently about something.

    His maid called him from outside. He left for some time. Finally, he returned, and when we asked him why he was delayed, he reluctantly replied, “I had a medical patient waiting for me.”

    I was surprised, “So late? Was it a friend?”

    Chekhov replied, “Not at all. I saw her for the first time in my life. She needed a prescription for a medicine that can be poisonous. They can only dispense it from a pharmacy with a prescription.”

    “You did not write it, did you?”

    Anton Pavlovich did not answer anything. He sat at the fire-place, and threw in some more fire-wood. Then, after a long silence, he said quietly, “Maybe this is better for her. I looked into her eyes, and understood that she had made a decision. There is a big river not far from here, and the Stone Bridge. If she jumps, she would be in great pain before she died. With the poison, she would be better off.”

    He was silent. We grew silent as well. Then, to change the subject, we began a conversation about literature.

    (Source: nybooks.com)

    • #chekhov
    • #peter sekirin
    • #New York Review of Books
    • #writing
    • #literature
  • 01 Jul
    13:38 pm

    “A Message from the Emperor” by Franz Kafka

    The emperor—it is said—sent to you, the one apart, the wretched subject, the tiny shadow that fled far, far from the imperial sun, precisely to you he sent a message from his deathbed. He bade the messenger kneel by his bed, and whispered the message in his ear. So greatly did he cherish it that he had him repeat it into his ear. With a nod of his head he confirmed the accuracy of the messenger’s words. And before the entire spectatorship of his death—all obstructing walls have been torn down and the great figures of the empire stand in a ring upon the broad, soaring exterior stairways—before all these he dispatched the messenger. The messenger set out at once; a strong, an indefatigable man; thrusting forward now this arm, now the other, he cleared a path though the crowd; every time he meets resistance he points to his breast, which bears the sign of the sun; and he moves forward easily, like no other. But the crowds are so vast; their dwellings know no bounds. If open country stretched before him, how he would fly, and indeed you might soon hear the magnificent knocking of his fists on your door. But instead, how uselessly he toils; he is still forcing his way through the chambers of the innermost palace; never will he overcome them; and were he to succeed at this, nothing would be gained: he would have to fight his way down the steps; and were he to succeed at this, nothing would be gained: he would have to cross the courtyard and, after the courtyard, the second enclosing outer palace, and again stairways and courtyards, and again a palace, and so on through thousands of years; and if he were to burst out at last through the outermost gate—but it can never, never happen—before him still lies the royal capital, the middle of the world, piled high in its sediment. Nobody reaches through here, least of all with a message from one who is dead. –You, however, sit at your window and dream of the message when evening comes.

    (translated by Mark Harman in the New York Review of Books)

    • #franz kafka
    • #mark harman
    • #a message from the emperor
    • #writing
    • #New York Review of Books
  • 18 May
    08:11 am
    Over the years I thoroughly explored many libraries, big and small, discovering numerous writers and individual books I never knew existed, a number of them completely unknown, forgotten, and still very much worth reading. No class I attended at the university could ever match that."
    Charles Simic, “A Country Without Libraries,” The New York Review of Books
    • #New York Review of Books
    • #Charles Simic
    • #libraries
    • #books
  • 10 Mar
    09:21 am

    the new american pessimism

    “In an atmosphere of growing anxiety and hysteria, in which the true causes and the scale of our dire national predicament are deliberately concealed and obfuscated by our political establishment and by the corporate media, no wonder there’s confusion and anger everywhere. As anyone who has traveled around this country and talked to people knows, Americans are not just badly informed, but downright ignorant about most things that affect their lives. How nice it would be if our President leveled with us and told us that our deficit is caused in significant part by the wars we are fighting in Afghanistan and Pakistan, the hundreds of military bases we are maintaining around the world, the huge tax breaks for the rich, and the bailout of Wall Street. As we know, we are not about to hear anything of the kind.” - Charles Simic

    • #charles simic
    • #New York Review of Books
    • #politics
    • #writing
    • #usa
  • 15 Feb
    08:35 am
    Impressively well-written review of Endgame by Frank Brady (written by none other than Garry Kasparov himself).

    Impressively well-written review of Endgame by Frank Brady (written by none other than Garry Kasparov himself).

    • #bobby fischer
    • #garry kasparov
    • #chess
    • #new york review of books
    • #endgame
    • #frank brady
    • #books
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