Tag: #TheNewYorker

  • Thoughts on the Philip Roth Biography

    I don’t know if you have heard, but there is a new biography on Philip Roth called, “Philip Roth: The Biography” by Blake Bailey. It’s not the most original title, but not unlike a well worn club, it gets the job done. That having been said, I will read Bailey’s Roth biography, and I will also read his biography on John Cheever as well.

    Over the past couple of weeks, as this biography was about to be released to the public, the W. W. Norton & Company marketing department went into overdrive promoting this book, as they should. There was an article in The New York Times, one in The New Yorker by David Remnick no less, and even one on CBS Saturday Morning. I am sure there were more out there, but I stopped with three. They all did their job; made me want to get the biography, and to reread Roth’s work.

    I did notice that all three of these stories on the Roth biography had the same through-line; Roth didn’t want a biography written about him. In one form or another, each piece detailed Roth’s troubled relationship with past biographers, and his tendency to lash out, through unpublished books, defending his reputation after he felt attacked. And, that somehow, either through Roth reaching the end of his life, or by Blake Bailey’s ability to mine the information out of Roth, this biography came to be. And all of that might be completely true. Or a narrative created by the marketing department to increase sales.

    But, then I had this wacky thought that, what if this was Roth’s plan all along? Such as, he denied that most of his work was auto-biographical, but it turns out it was auto-biographical. Roth sure didn’t like the book his ex-wife wrote about him, which painted him as a misogynist. This led Roth to write one of the unpublished manuscripts where he attacked and attacked her, which in the end, sort of confirmed his ex-wife’s book. So, what if Roth created a narrative of “not wanting” a biography, while at the same time leading the biographer to “water?” Wouldn’t that give Roth the final say?

    I will add this; Philip Roth did write a memoir (Patrimony: A True Story) so if he wanted to tell his own story, he could have. In fact, he tried twice, but was persuaded, and it sounds correctly, not to publish. Also, choosing a biographer for your life while you are still alive, does come off as sounding subjective, especially after you had already fired one biographer. Finally, Roth was the best storyteller in the room, so why would he let someone else tell his most important story?

    Just a thought. I mean, I will still buy the book.

  • Personal Review: New Yorker Profile on Nicole Eisenman

    Do you know who Nicole Eisenman is? I didn’t until this weekend. I got another gift of a Sunday, and was able to do an hour of uninterrupted reading on the couch while listening to music. I chose to make my way through the March 1st issue of The New Yorker, and landed on a profile on the artist/painter/sculptor Nicole Eisenman. I do give a great deal of credit to the article’s writer, Ian Parker, for doing a great job of making visual art come to life through the written word. Not an easy task.

    There are many great parts to the piece, sharing how Eisenman works, and has survived and flourished as an artists in NYC. One part of the article that really struck me was Nicole speaking about how in college, after she came out to her parents, her father, who is a psychiatrist and believed that being gay was a mental disease, would write her long letters trying to dissuade her from being a lesbian, to “save her.” It struck as so depressing and heartbreaking. Her parents not accepting her for who she is bad enough, but to think when she would receive mail from her dad, it was just a dense letter to say how awful she was. I can’t imagine what that does to one’s self esteem, and how hard it must have been to move past that.

    The other thing that struck me about Nicole Eisenman, was how she moved between different forms of expression. Painting is clearly her main focus, but she is also a sculptor. Then if you pay attention and read between the lines, you learn that she was a DJ for a good bit of time, and blogged, and Nicole refers to many cartoons she has drawn in sketchbooks. She struck me as a person who is continually looking for ways to express, and share, and try new ideas. I admire her ability to stay in creative motion, which now I feel bad that I didn’t know of her before.

  • Personal Review: “Casting Shadows” by Jhumpa Lahiri

    In a very strange twist, we had a relaxing weekend. I say this because there was a holiday, Valentine’s Day, which I completely forgot about. I thought of myself as the type of dutiful husband that never misses important dates, but I want to say that this was Covid’s fault. Either way, the wife was on top of it, made sure the kid and I had a good day. For me, that meant I got time on the couch to listen to music and read.

    I decided that I wanted to catch up on the latest issue of The New Yorker, which is the February 15th & 22nd issue. I particularly enjoyed the short story in the issue “Casting Shadows” by Jhumpa Lahiri. She might not like this comparison, but I found the narrator’s tone reminiscent of Rachel Cusk’s protagonist in The Outline Trilogy, if the protagonist talked more about herself, and wasn’t letting the other people she came in contact speak. Lahiri’s narrator in her short work observes the people and the city she lives in, through never mentioned it feels very much like Rome, which creates a melancholic optimism of the small encounters and how they slowly affect her.

    Personally, I have an issue with first person past tense narration in fiction, as it never feels realistic to me. First person past tense is clearly a reflection, and will always break in the narrator’s favor, thus it always has the potential of being untruthful. But with Lahiri’s narrator, I felt that she was a person who has come to enjoy her own honesty and truth. There was no judgement, but still an ethic she was holding too.

    It was a story that reminded me that good fiction can be very inspiring.  

  • Ghost Locations of Creativity

    Do you know who Donald Barthelme is?

    I had no idea who he was until 2003. That was the year I was directing “Six Degrees of Separation” as my senior project in college. There is a line towards the end of the play where the character Paul references Donald Barthelme’s obituary in the New York Times, saying;

    Paul: Did you see Donald Barthelme’s obituary? He said collage was the art form of the 20th century.

    As a dutiful director, I researched Donald Barthelme and his stories, all the while spending time thinking how Paul, who was running from the police, still took the time to read the obituary section of The Times, and contemplate art and collage, and how that affects the meaning of his life.

    A few years later, I read a review in The Times book section about a new biography on Donald Barthelme, titled “Hiding Man: A Biography of Donald Barthelme.” The review intrigued me, so I went out and bought a copy of the book. Sadly, it sat on my shelf for about six years. I know this because, when I did pick the biography up, it was right after the birth of my daughter, and I would read it as I rocked her to sleep. I then went out and got a copy of “Sixty Stories,” to keep my envelopment in his work.

    I recommend the biography, clearly. There are many great insights, and Tracy Daugherty does a very good job of setting up the context of the world around Donald; the art world of the early 60’s, how The New Yorker treated their writers, and what The Village used to be like – overflowing with writers and eccentric people. The book, even gave Barthelme’s address off of 11th Street, which happened to be seven blocks from where I worked at the time. I took an extended lunch break from work one day, and walked down to Donald’s old block. It had only been about 25 years since his death, and the neighborhood was nothing like it used to be in his day, at least what I learned from his biography. I stood across the street looking at his old building that housed his apartment, feeling a little like the stalker of a ghost. I don’t know what I was expecting to feeling by being out front, but I was curious to see a place of creation; The location where stories I loved were first pounded out on a typewriter. Maybe it was a pilgrimage, but it felt like I was trying to say hello to a friend.

  • That Possible Space Probe: Oumuamua

    This has been one of my favorite stories to read of late, and if you aren’t aware, please check the wiki page. Even The New Yorker did a story on it. I just find it fun that we can have a scientific debate on the physics of this object moving through our solar system, and from the data, it is possible that the object was created and sent by intelligent beings from another planet.

    That’s pretty cool.

    From what I can tell from the data, Oumuamua was in the Neptune distance from the Sun around 2014, and it will leave our system in the 2023 ballpark. So, if this thing was sent by an intelligent being, it sure isn’t in a hurry. I would think that if I could send a craft to, let’s say for the sake of argument, a neighboring star, that I would have a little speed to it, so I would be able to appreciate the discovery. But maybe it was built with the idea that the information would make it to the next generation. They have other things to do while they wait for the data. Maybe…

    Or, maybe they saw us, and don’t want to have any part it. Maybe, having studied how humans behave, the aliens realized it was better to slowly “ghost” out of the system, because humans quickly forget stuff that isn’t in their face.

    You know, like when you walk into a store, get greeted by an employee, but then you realize that you should leave, but you still go through the motions of looking at stuff, so the employee forgets about you and then you can leave.

    Again, if it’s intelligent life, they would know that about us.