Small press in NYC making books the old-fashioned way

The Crumpled Press based in New York is taking the publishing world back to its roots by producing hand-sewn books. Not only that, but their paper is made with wind energy and is recyclable.

Here's a quote from editor and founder Jordan McIntyre:

"With the advent of digital publishing, a lot of people ask me if I’m opposed [to it], thinking as a publisher I’m obsessed with the book as object. My answer is no. If you want to read a throwaway paperback that you may forget about, then read it on a Kindle. If you want something in your collection to last, if you love it, then it should be bound in a more caring manner."

Read the whole story and see pictures of Crumpled Press' books being bound by hand here.

And be sure to visit their website and buy something. These guys deserve it and you deserve their books!

Phillip Roth Throws in The Towel

In an interview with the French publication Les inRocks novelist Philip Roth has said he will retire from writing.

"At the end of his life, the boxer Joe Louis said: 'I did the best I could with what I had,'" Roth said. "This is exactly what I would say of my work: I did the best I could with what I had."

To read more on Salon, and to find the link to the original article in French, click here.

Two of Japan's Greatest

Check out this conversation between two of Japan's literary heavyweights, Kazuo Ishiguro and Kenzaburo Oe, from Grand Street, a lit mag that no longer exists.



"The observations you just made about the reception of Mishima in Europe are accurate. Mishima’s entire life, certainly including his death by seppuku, was a kind of performance designed to present the image of an archetypal Japanese. Moreover, this image was not the kind that arises spontaneously from a Japanese mentality. It was the superficial image of a Japanese as seen from a European point of view, a fantasy. Mishima acted out that image just as it was. He created himself exactly in accordance with it. That was the way he lived, and that was the way he died" -Oe 

Underworld

I came upon this article about DeLillo's Underworld today of all days, September 11th.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/15/books/don-delillos-underworld-still-holds-power.html

Notice the striking image of the World Trade Centers on the cover of Underworld. Although published many years before the attacks on the twin towers occurred, it's bizarre that a book with such a stark portrait of the Cold War era (an fearful era that would define many generations of people) would have on its cover the icons that would come to define the 21st century — another time of living in fear of the enemy.

D.F.W. and D.T. Max

Today, I was asked what celebrity I would choose if I had the opportunity to ask someone of such great import anything I wanted.

The person who offered this question snapped their fingers and said, "Quick, quick! Off the top of your head!"

"OK," I said. "David Foster Wallace..."

They looked at me and said, "Who the hell is that?"

To them, I reply with this interview between The Millions and D.F.W.'s biographer D.T. Max

http://www.themillions.com/2012/09/brief-interview-with-d-t-max.html

And you thought Lolita was scandalous....

I like William T. Vollmann — his writing, subject matter and style are wonderful, yes, but, it’s not just those items that intrigue; it’s the persona, the Vollmanness of William T. Vollmann and his manias, his obsessions, his methods of research, and everything that influences his craft — and I know why he’s so intriguing to me. I have entered  the phase of my life where I have become deeply infatuated with postmodernist literature. I know, I know — I just vomited a little while writing that, but hear me out.

Those of you who know what I’m talking about can understand — frustratingly reading Gravity’s Rainbow and gushing all the while over how Pynchon wrote the entire novel on graph paper (was it the drugs that made the book so incomprehensible?); flipping through the dictionary while reading a novel of comparative page count during attempt number two at completing Infinite Jest (because there’s one word on the page that could really turn things on their head if you could just understand it;) arguing over the finer points of an author’s spiritual acuity; and at some point realizing that you just don’t fucking get a lot of what has played out over the course of a few hundred pages. (This last point is admittedly the hardest to own up to.)

I remember one night specifically when I knew this phase had begun. I was sitting with my wife in a pub in a small, but beautiful mountain town. I felt parched for some sort of tangible culture besides Grateful Dead cover bands and the apathetic, stereotypical ski bums that kicked around town. We were joined by a friend and an acquaintance of hers. After polite small talk and a few drinks, the conversation with the acquaintance took a drastic turn to Russian literature (he had studied the language as did I in college) and then, naturally, to the films of Tarkovsky and then to him introducing me to Pynchon by his waxing about Gravity’s Rainbow for a solid hour. We became good friends after that and spent many an idle hour in a smoky bar talking. On that night, I felt I had joined some secret fraternity.

My desire to meet other initiates in this “secret fraternity” was unquenchable, as was my need to read the works of the founding and most notable members (Pynchon, Barth, Barthelme, Gaddis, Gass, and so on). Now, years later and my having read many of those authors, I feel that Vollmann might be where the legacy stops or  becomes so muddled that he can no longer be called a true initiate. But, there exists no properly defined classification for him and others like him. While academicians continue to bicker over whether post-post-modernism (or what have you) is acceptable, it will suffice to place him with his brothers: Barth, Gaddis, Barthelme, Foster Wallace, Pynchon, et. al., into the po-mo category. 

*****

William T. Vollmann, a winner of the 2005 National Book Award,  is a unique animal. His books are bold testaments to what is within and beyond the restrictions of the post-modern genre in which many people lump him.

I remember the first time I ever encountered one of his books — The Rainbow Stories. I think I remember the cover blurb likening him to Bukowski and Pynchon. I shook my head at the tired and over-used comparison and tossed the book aside, but something drew me back — the cover, the title, the colors, something. I picked it up once again, read the back’s synopsis, and began thumbing through the book. I had never read anything quite like it and still haven’t. He can write so beautifully about the most depraved and inhuman acts and those are usually the initial shock points that many people find hard to put away. But beyond all that is an author who is serious about his craft and an artist who can create tragically empathetic characters.

Vollmann’s manic obsessions begin and end in everything taboo; he expounds upon subjects to which most of us turn a blind eye. His characters are the low-lifes, the junkies, the addicts, the whores, the skinheads, the racists, the misogynists, and otherwise socially-marginalized groups.

And where many authors would simply feign knowledge of the morally, ethically, and politically incorrect sectors, Vollmann has experienced, if not lived them for a time, with avid curiosity. One of his more glamorous experiences include narrowly escaping death when, conducting research for his novel “The Rifles” about native Inuit populations and the exploration of the Arctic by Sir John Franklin, he spent two weeks at an abandoned weather station located at the magnetic North Pole.

To research one story about prostitutes, from his book The Rainbow Stories, Vollmann says: “One of the things that I had to do occasionally while I was collecting information…was sit in a corner and pull down my pants and masturbate. I would pretend to do this while I was asking the prostitutes questions. Because otherwise, they were utterly afraid of me and utterly miserable, thinking I was a cop.” (http://www.theparisreview.org/interviews/620/the-art-of-fiction-no-163-william-t-vollmann)

Material for his meticulously-researched books comes from his experiences with crack cocaine, sleeping with prostitutes, and traveling extensively through war zones. His book The Atlas is a non-fiction collection of vignettes about his travels through dangerous territories and An Afghanistan Picture Show, his first book, is all about his time spent in Pakistan and Soviet-occupied Afghanistan in 1982.

His efforts have not gone unnoticed. In 2005, he was awarded the National Book Award for his massive novel, Europe Central, about a love triangle involving Dmitri Shostakvich during the early 20th century.

Why he hasn’t received as much praise for his magnum opus, a 3,352-page seven-volume set on the history of violence, Rising Up and Rising Down: Some Thoughts on Violence, Freedom and Urgent Means (McSweeney’s, 2003), or for the “Seven Dreams” series, composed of seven separate novels all about the settlement of North America (still being written though), is beyond me.

Nonetheless, Vollmann is an author who challenges our preconceptions of the world. He makes us uncomfortable. His books are about humanity, the roots from which we run, and the base desires from which we hide. Chances are, I will never smoke crack cocaine, sleep with a prostitute, overnight at the magnetic North Pole, or even own a gun, but in reading Vollman these experiences become visceral.

Vollmann isn’t for everyone. I would blush explaining some of the chapters of his books to my mother, hell, some of my best friends probably. It could also be the case that his books are pure junk and I’m just someone who’s addicted to snuff-lit. Recently at work, when I take my lunch break, I wrap up one of his books in a newspaper, carry it outside and hope that no one peeks over my shoulder to read the page. That could open a floodgate of questions.  So, to all those people who thought Lolita was a bit racy, that book was like The Cat in the Hat compared to Vollmann.

Literary Cooking

Humorous piece about some famous authors' favorite recipes. Gotta love the Vollmann and Fitzgerald recipes.

http://www.flavorwire.com/312606/how-to-eat-like-your-favorite-authors?all=1

Just the way Faulkner wanted

A new edition of "The Sound and the Fury" will now be published just as William Faulkner desired: with different colors of type. For $345 get your copy today....

http://www.foliosociety.com/book/SAF

The rise of the paperback

Interesting post in The Atlantic about the history of the paperback book - albeit, according to a book written in 1984 - and about how the rise in popularity and numbers of published paperbacks "...made an enormous contribution to our social, cultural, educational, and literary life."

Also, according to this piece (and the book, really), there were only 500 legitimate bookstores in the US in 1931. And while I've been bemoaning the dearth of bookstores in Indianapolis, my complaints seem so fickle with that figure in mind.

Check it out: http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2012/06/a-golden-age-of-books-there-were-only-500-real-bookstores-in-1931/258309/

Barthelme's Syllabus

I've been scouring around for most of these, considering I've only read a small portion of them. Pretty awesome stuff on here.

Any of you out there read any of these books?

http://www.believermag.com/issues/200310/?read=barthelme_syllabus

Anthony Burgess comments on Being an Novelist

I am by trade a novelist. It is, I think, a harmless trade, though it is not everywhere considered a respectable one. Novelists put dirty language into the mouths of their characters, and they show these characters fornicating or going to the toilet. Moreover, it is not a useful trade, as is that of the carpenter or the pastry cook. The novelist passes the time for you between one useful action and another, he helps fill the gaps that appear in the serious fabric of living. He is a mere entertainer, a sort of clown. He mimes, he makes grotesque gestures, he is pathetic or comic and sometimes both, he sends words spinning through the air like colored balls.

- Anthony Burgess, The Clockwork Condition, The New Yorker, June 4, 2012

1Q84 Design Video

Interesting stuff.

Last one about Bolano. I swear....

We all know, or we all should know, that Roberto Bolano was one of the original founders of the Infrarealists Poetry movement. Here is the group's manifesto, translated in to English for the first time. It reads like a beautiful, long prose-poem and was penned by R.B. himself.

http://altarpiece.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-infrarealist-manifesto-english.html

Also, check out this old picture:

Reading Challenge

It's a little late now, but I just found out about this reading challenge. I would suggest Bifurcaria bifurcata (the original poster of this challenge) extend this opportunity to next year, thereby attracting more new readers of Bolano. Just click on the picture below to check out the challenge.

More Bolano to be published

It seems there's always more being dug up every year - six new works by Bolano will be published in 2012.

Third Reich was just released the 22nd of November and a little before that, Tres was released. It's exciting and almost overwhelming for those of us who came to Bolano after reading the all-encompassing 2666 or The Savage Detectives. It would be surprising if anything slated to be released was at the level those two novels were, but Bolano is one of those unique poets-cum-novelists who can say in one word what it would take for most others to say in a paragraph.

• The Secret of Evil - a posthumous prose collection.
  
• Advice from a Morrison Follower to a Joyce Fanatic - an early novel written with Bolaño's friend A. G. Porta. You can't judge a book by its cool title. But it could earn some points.
• Diorama - one of 3 books discovered among Bolaño's papers. Still unpublished in Spanish.
• A Lumpen Novella - El futuro, the film adaptation of this book, is already being shot on location in Rome. It will be perfect if the short novel will come out as a movie tie-in. It had a rather interesting premise. 

• The Troubles of the Real Police Officer - another discovered manuscript. It came out in Spanish early this year. It's very likely it will be released in English in mid- to late 2012. And the wonderful Natasha Wimmer will probably translate again for FSG. 
• The Unknown University - the last of Bolaño's 3 major collections of poetry translated by Laura Healy. New Directions will most likely publish this in 2012.

Preview of new article about homelessness

This is an interview I conducted a week ago with a man at one of the shelters in town. In it, I think one can get a sense of how the homeless are faring in Indianapolis. Keep in mind that this is only one voice and everyone I've talked to is extremely diverse in their situations and reactions. This is meant to be informative and I hope it sheds a but of light on a problem every city faces.

*Pseudonym for purpose of the interview – Mike

Mike’s* a stocky guy with a buzzed head and a cursive script tattoo on his neck that’s faded to illegibility. He’s been in a gang since he was a young teen, has two children, and was in jail for 18 months at age 26. He has large bags under his eyes and a forlorn, despondent look. But, behind that look, there’s a certain unidentifiable pride and fearlessness. Mike speaks out of the left corner of his mouth with a long drawl and answers in short, clipped sentences.

NUVO: How long have you been coming to Horizon House?

Man 2: I’ve been coming since ’09.

NUVO: How long have you been homeless?

Man 2: Off and on for two years.

NUVO: What’s your story?

Man 2: I came out of prison. No family up here. I got a bother and sister, but they live pretty much far from here.

NUVO: Why were you in prison?

Man 2: For battery, possession of dope, and possession of a handgun.

NUVO: What services have you been using at Horizon House?

Man 2: Medical, showers, phones, wash my clothes.

NUVO: Where do you stay?

Man 2: Actually on the streets.

NUVO: On the streets? Do you have a little spot?

Man 2: Under the bridge.

NUVO: So tell me, who are you, who were you, all that.

Man 2: I’m from Brownsville, Texas. I moved up here when I was about 12 years old. Both of my parents are deceased now. I was born in the gang life. Been a gang member since I was about 13. Like I said, I came up here when I was 12. Lived on the Southside all my life. Started getting in trouble and I came up here when I was about 13 – stealing cars, breaking in to houses, robbing people. Been to juvenile, been to boy school, satellites, boot camp. Then age 16, I had my first baby. She’ll be 13 the 27^th (of Nov.).

I mean, I’ve had my own house before. The first house I bought, I was 19 years old. And then, age 21, actually 20, was my first time going to jail up here. That was for a PI. Then around age 22, 23 my other son was born, age 23. I was with my baby’s momma for four years and then 23, 27. Let me see, I went to prison. Came out the age of-I did 18 months.

NUVO: Was that your first time in prison?

Man 2: Mhmm.

NUVO: How old were you?

Man 2:

Let’s see I’m 30 now (long pause). 2011 (trails off). Went to prison in ’07. So, that’d make me 26. Then I came out, had nowhere to go, walking around the city. Then, I finally went down to Delaware Mission where the mission actually was. And I was there for a couple days. Then, I ran to my Mexican brother. Stayed with him four about 3 or 4 months. Then went homeless again. On the streets. Taking care of business. Come here. Do my thing at Horizon House. Wash my clothes. Shower. I actually had a job when I was homeless this past year working at the car wash over here. Lost that job.

NUVO: Why did you lose it?

Man 2: I had a death in the family and I didn’t let them know I was leaving. Then, I went back to Texas. Then, I came back up here. So, unfortunately, I’ve been homeless, like I said, off and on for two years now. I mean, I got places where I hit and go. Stay with a friend here. Stay with a friend there. Most of the time, I’m under a bridge over here. So.

NUVO: Is enough being done in Indianapolis for homeless people? Are there enough places to stay? Is there enough to eat?

Man 2: Food-wise, yes. Places, no.

NUVO: No? Have you ever had trouble finding a place to stay?

Man 2: Sometimes, yeah.

NUVO: What do you do in those cases?

Man 2: I just go back under the bridge where I come from. If I can’t get a shelter or nothing, I’ll just go back down there.

NUVO: As far as places to wash your clothes, free medical clinics, is there enough of that?

Man 2: No, I think there should be more. But, I think they got them here. I mean, they got them all over town, but sometimes they’re just so far away some people can’t even get to them.

NUVO: Have you ever had that problem?

Man 2: No, I come for my medical. If I really need medical, man, I’ll walk to the hospital.

NUVO: What else could be added to the services? What do we need more of in Indianapolis for the homeless population?

Man 2: Honestly, more shelters. I think they should put enough more to where they can like a halfway house for people they can bring off the streets. You know? And help them out. Help them out with their addictions. Drug addictions, sexual addictions, gambling addictions, alcohol addictions.

NUVO: Do you see a lot of homeless that are addicted.

Man 2: (quietly) A lot.

NUVO: And how do you feel about that?

Man 2: I mean, it’s sad to see, but there ain’t nothing I can do. I wish I could, but I can’t.

NUVO: So, what else. You’ve experienced it first-hand.

Man 2: I mean, there should be a lot more clothing, clothing pantries for homeless people. You know, to where they can go in and get a couple outfits here and there when they need them. Like this time of the year, it’s hard to get clothes. Sometimes you miss out to where, you know, they’ll come out and you’re not there, then, you’ll just miss out on the whole thing.

NUVO: What about trying to find a job? Are you trying to find one right now?

Man 2: Oh yeah. So far, it’s looking good. Cause I’m close, if I move to the Southside he’ll give me a job.

Ann Beattie's Seven Truths about Writers

Excerpt from Beattie's new book Mrs. Nixon. I found them humorous.

1. They take souvenirs of Important Evenings for their “mother.” This is like taking leftovers home for the “dog.” Of course, some mothers do get the souvenirs and some dogs do get the scraps. However, it is not likely.

2. If they find a copy of Richard Yates’s Eleven Kinds of Loneliness, they buy it. It is as if they’ve found a baby on the front step. They peek inside, examine the dog-earing, the marginal scribbles. Or perhaps it’s a clean copy, which carries its own kind of sadness. In either case, they embrace it, though they already have multiple copies. Those are irrelevant to the one they would be abandoning if they left the book behind. This is a hostess gift you can give any fiction writer, guaranteed to delight her even though she already has it. Regifting becomes an act of spreading civilization.

3. It makes the writer’s day if he or she can include the opinions of a truly stupid character or text in the story, punctuating those announcements with exclamation points, which are the icing on the cake. This situation is to be found in novels, too, but novelists are less likely to be immensely flattered if you have noticed their needle in the haystack(!). For particularly adept and judicious uses of the exclamation point, see the works of Joy Williams and Deborah Eisenberg.

4. Without these things, many contemporary American short stories would grind to a halt: fluorescent lights; refrigerators; mantels. They are its gods, or false gods. In that it is difficult to know Him, these stand-ins are often misspelled.

5. Poets go to bed earliest, followed by short story writers, then novelists. The habits of playwrights are unknown.

6. Writers are very particular about their writing materials. Even if they work on a computer, they edit with a particular pen (in my case, a pen imprinted “Bob Adelman”); they have legal pads about which they are very particular—size, color—and other things on their desk that they almost never need: scissors; Scotch tape. Few cut up their manuscripts and crawl around the floor anymore, refitting the paragraphs or rearranging chapters, because they can “cut” and “paste” on the computer. As a rule, writers keep either a very clean desktop or a messy one. To some extent, this has to do with whether they’re sentimental.

7. Writers wear atrocious clothes when writing. So terrible that I have been asked, by the UPS man, “Are you all right?” An example: stretched-out pajama bottoms imprinted with cowboys on bucking broncos, paired with my husband’s red thermal undershirt (no guilt; he wouldn’t even wear such a thing in Alaska) and a vest leaking tufts of down, with a broken zipper and a rhinestone pin in the shape of pouting lips. Furry socks with embossed Minnie Mouse faces (the eyes having deteriorated in the wash) that clash with all of the above.

It might be two years old, but it's relevant - "One For the Good Guys" (it's also written by Dave Eggers).

The link above is a book review about Kurt Vonnegut's book of short stories Look at the Birdie.

I've been doing some volunteer work for the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library. I've never personally seen an entire city adopt an author so readily and whole-heatedly. It's extremely satisfying to see constant remembrances of a man, an artist who just seemed to have things right. My favorite line from the article is, "In a 2003 interview, when asked the softball question 'How are you?' he answered: 'I’m mad about being old, and I’m mad about being American. Apart from that, O.K.'”

A giant mural of Vonnegut has gone up on Massachusetts Avenue. It seems damn near twenty feet tall and captures perfectly that sagacious smile right beneath that perfect Midwest mustache of his.

Vonnegut had a lot of good things to say about people and about his home, Indianapolis. Even though his genre of choice, science fiction, was one most people shrug off, I think he pushed the boundaries of literature and, if I can say so, human thought.

So, all of this is to say, today is Kurt Vonnegut's birthday - his 89th. Let's remember him in the way we all might see fit.

I extend a question to you...

This post on Melville House's website really got me to thinking about my reading choices as of late. I read a couple of Pynchon's in a row and then moved on to a Vollmann. My brain was foggy and muddled after all that. I really needed some fresh air. So, I chose Hans Fallada's Little Man, What Now?.
It was exactly what I needed. Simple, concise, and full of relatable characters. So, what's your favorite readable author and/or books? In stormy seas, who do you call upon to clear the skies?

http://mhpbooks.com/41882/in-praise-of-readability/

Terrible 1Q84 review

I'm as excited for the book as anyone else (yes, I'm still waiting on my copy to come in the mail - Amazon messed up), but this review just left a sour taste in my mouth before I'd even tried the main course. There is a comparison to Stieg Larson's characters and a mention of the 900-pager's potential to strain your arm. Well, if you've been hefting around such intellectual lights as "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo," then, yes, this book might cause you to pull a muscle in your brain.

There was a time when I would look to NPR for advice on books, but this has been some time ago. Just read this review and see one of the many reasons why I've quit them.

http://www.npr.org/2011/10/25/141460070/1q84-japans-orwellian-bestseller-comes-to-u-s