more on reading

An interesting commentary from n + 1:

Link


i will say I have mixed feelings about this publication, not because I don't think it's good and insightful and thoughtful, but because of their whole "we're so sincere," anti-Eggersard (Eggersian? Eggers-esque?) stance---though to be honest, I'm not sure if this was a stance envisioned by its celebrated creators or invented by the critics (or maybe a bit of both?). If the former, it does feel a little self-important and contrived: (whiney tone)" I wanted to be Eggers! That 30-something idiot got to it before I did, so now we have to do something different!" And, of course, I suppose each movement is a backlash or response to (derivative of?) the one before it, right? Although these are both pretty contemporary. Who knows. I'll stop there. hope you enjoy the read. and hope the link works.

Bad date.

Why does life keep getting more stupid and disappointing as I get older?

completely nonliterary penguin joy

probably this belongs in the comments. but it makes me so happy, and i don't think you can put videos in the comments. maybe i need to get my own blog where i can put random clips of events i witness at the grocery store late at night.

midnight crazy

So, I'm up. It's nearly two in the morning, and I have five more papers to grade because I spent the day missing appointments, being a terrible teacher, dozing on my sofa, eating chips and hummus and olives while reading gossip sites, and watching reruns of Making the Band 3. Ah, the life of a productive writer. Anyhow, this is for all my poets out there: a piece by a South African poet named Dennis Brutus. Just because. Excuse me if my taste is juvenile. I'm no poet, but I love poetry.


Nightsong: City

Sleep well, my love, sleep well:
the harbor lights glaze over restless docks,
police cars cockroach through the tunnel streets

from the shanties creaking iron-sheets
violence like a bug-infested rag is tossed
and fear is immanent as sound in the wind-swung bell;

the long day's anger pants from sand and rocks;
but for this breathing night at least,
my land, my love, sleep well.