Rise And Shine, Somerset

Once upon a time there was a literary magazine editor. He was a short, pudgy man who wore cloudy glasses and had greasy hair. All day long he ate egg sandwiches, and his socks stunk through his shoes. At night he’d stay in his apartment, up late, watching through a window the cars passing on the street. When it came time for him to edit, he’d strip past his underwear and remove his glasses, spin furiously in his swivel chair and then go at it — blind, naked and dizzy — until all the tales that needed were told. This is what they said: Break out your pick axe, it’s time to unearth Maugham’s grave. Tufts University has a juicy bit of late breaking news: Boston’s a literary town! Prague is up on Israeli authors, just ask Oz. The first chapter in Prison Pitt is titled “Fucked.” Read more in The Faster Times. Who here has said they’ve read Proust and actually not read him? Atone for your sins inside the Cork-Lined Room. Blah blah blah more great writers win blah blah more writing awards. And then there’s this: Maurice Sendak, champion of adolescent agitprop, tells parents to go to Hell! Well well. Sounds like someone needs an egg sandwich. — Kevin Murphy

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"Do Not Bend To The Forces Trying To Change Us."

Death and taxes, yes, but even more so, one thing life most certainly brings is change. We are creatures of movement — from house to house, job to job, state to state, friend to friend. Our lives are punctuated by where we go, when we go there, and how it all plays out. Hence, today, as we move from the work week into the weekend, we’ve collected for you a sampling of articles that chronicle life’s eternal rhythm. Churchill brought much change to England. Read about his impact on Great Britain between the two World Wars. Poets routinely shift subjects, meter. Jerome Rothenberg is no different. Check out his undulating verse in Rain Taxi. Juan Goytisolo was a Spanish writer. But his influence traveled the world. The Independent has more. Google is changing the world’s text from the printed word to the digitized one. The Economist weighs in. The noted Korean translator, Insoo Lee moves out of obscurity and into the limelight. Finally, Cormac McCarthy knows a thing or two about transition. His novel The Road describes the ultimate change: a planet depleted of life. Watch the movie trailer below. Happy weekend, and remember your walking shoes. — Kevin Murphy

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The Day The Great Faulkner Arrived

When we celebrate a person’s birthday, it’s more the person than the day that we’re celebrating. September 25th, after all, is an arbitrary date. But when you attach to it William Faulkner’s name, the day becomes significant. And so it is that today we tip our hats to Mr. Faulkner, certainly one of history’s most formidable authors. In other news, banned books have about them the air of scandal, even if they’re not terribly scandalous. What is scandalous these days, anyway? The Daily Titan takes a closer look. What happens when a bunch of writers get together? They judge their peers, that’s what. See who makes the cut as writers determine the rank of their fellow scribes. Mr. Poet goes to Hollywood in the New York Review of Ideas, Anselm Berrigan has a new book of verse published by City Lights, and Nabokov’s cribbed edits are found on the pages of The Metamorphoses. Finally, on this day of honor, The Millions, perhaps getting a little ahead of themselves, makes a list of this millennium’s finest pieces of literature — thus far. It’s a splendid day for literature, this September 25th. Just remember why. — Kevin Murphy

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Irish Irony In Books About Books

Just because it’s Friday doesn’t mean the literary world is sleeping. Truth be told, more news tends to emerge toward the end of the week, when reclusive writers part their curtains and join the public fray. Today, despite the solemn anniversary of 9/11, is a checkerboard of literature happenings. The Irish are an ironic herd. Maybe that explains their affinity with books about books. What gives? Lorrie Moore is the darling of book critics but The Stranger says she’s written an ornate, useless novel. The eloquent crank John Banville is interviewed by a British bibliophile, B.R. Meyers finds hope and disappointment in the latest translation of Hwang Sok-yong’s fiction, and Harper’s recounts the harrowing and absurd conversation between radio DJs and contestants drinking lethal amounts of water. Finally, all the lit-kids love transhumanism, right? And Dickens’s England goes digital. It’s Friday, people. Join the fray. — Kevin Murphy

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Here's Looking At You, Hugo

The best and worst thing about writing is the hope. Writers hope for success passionately, blindly, like little kids on Christmas. Hope is never dormant, and it’s always right around the corner. But sprinting to that corner is dangerous. Often, failure trips us up. But writers are dreamers, and we’re determined. We have a stomach for suffering. We hope beyond hope. Just like those lucky scribes that recently were awarded fellowships by the NEA. Congrats! Now let’s move on and avoid any bitterness. Writers can find hopeful/less counsel from other writers. A new biography of Brazilian author Clarice Lispector is reviewed by the Economist. Interviews are equally informative, and sprinkled with words of optimism. Jump over to Book Forum for a talk with A.S. Byatt. Some people set their sights low, like Failure Magazine. It’s appropriate, then, that they review books about America’s fall from grace. Iceland has a national literacy rate of 99.9%. If that’s not hopeful we don’t know what is. Finally, a Swiss writer you’ve never read has died. While this is not good news, Hugo Loetscher lived a long, full life, which is the most any of us can hope for. – Kevin Murphy

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