Through the Keyhole
/Mikhail Chekhov's Anton Chekhov: A Brother's Memoir has at last been published in English in its entirety, and its flaws and omissions make it almost as revealing as one of Anton's own stories.
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Mikhail Chekhov's Anton Chekhov: A Brother's Memoir has at last been published in English in its entirety, and its flaws and omissions make it almost as revealing as one of Anton's own stories.
Read MoreThe nation's book critics naturally congregated when Don DeLillo's slim new book appeared. In the latest Open Letters Peer Review, John Rodwan supplies a scorecard for the players.
Read MoreIn mythology, Alcestis is the model wife, willing to give up her own life for her husband's. In Katharine Beutner's lyrical retelling, the truth is more complex.
Read MoreHe was a soldier, a lover, an exile, and a wanderer - he was Ugo Foscolo,and thanks to a new translation, readers will learn he was one thing more: a powerful poet.
Read MoreLike an overheated love letter, André Aciman's florid novel novel of obsession, Eight White Nights, is very easy to mock--but is it perhaps just as candid and emotionally powerful? Sam Sacks tests it against the truth of experience.
Read MoreThe latest novels by Francisco X. Stork and Benjamin Alire Saenz remind us that there's much, much more to teen fiction than vampire fads.
Read MoreJustin Taylor's Everything Here Is The Best Thing Ever raises the age-old question about 'hot' new collections: can they possibly live up to their own billing? Janet Potter turns in a verdict.
Read MoreTwo new novels by Adam Haslett and Jonathan Dee attempt to show us the way we live now by exposing the quality of the characters who handle (or, as the case may be, mishandle) our money.
Read More"opium" Georgias, "hotwired" Georgias, and "mercury" Georgias, are cataloged and blasted in Andrew Zawacki's new collection Petals of Zero / Petals of One. But who or what or where is Georgia's eponym?
Read MoreLong before he wrote some of the most powerful poems in English, John Milton, as a brainy teenager, wrote verse in Latin. Celebrated translator David Slavitt tells us a little about them.
Read MoreWhen Patricia Highsmith was bored at parties, she would cover the dinner table with her pet snails. As Joan Schenkar shows in her new biography The Talented Miss Highsmith, this may have been the sweetest part of her personality.
Read MoreKarl Parker's moves are more than merely clever: I-less one minute, present & friendly the next, he darts behind masks and speaks IN BOLD, as our contributing editor discovers in her review.
Read MoreMary Caponegro continues her chronicle of troubled intimacies in the story collection All Fall Down
Read MoreJohn Madera reviews Michael Leong's e.s.p. and recounts the scramble of names, idioms, puns, and wild associations he finds in the poems
Read MoreBoilerplate traveled the world at the turn of the twentieth century in attempt to dissuade humans from their many wars. Finally, his biography (can such things be?) is revealed, and Lianne Habinek reveals its astonishing contents
Read MoreLauren Kate's new young adult book Fallen is getting the full Twilight treatment, YouTube trailer and all. Kristin Brower Walker looks into what the book is about beyond all that promotional blitz
Read MoreBluetsMaggie NelsonWave Books, 2009Maggie Nelson’s Bluets starts with its worst sentence: “Suppose I were to begin by saying that I had fallen in love with a color.” I am suspicious of this sentence; I find it contrived. Everything else about the book I love.Bluets, which is a prose-poetry hybrid (or, arguably, an essay), is written as a series of numbered “propositions,” like a treatise, and draws heavily from a list of sources cited in the back, including Wittgenstein and Goethe. (Nelson’s work may appeal to fans of Jenny Boully.) The book has three main subjects or themes: the philosophy of color; the analysis of a past romantic relationship; and the ostensible love affair (an emotional affair? unrequited?) with the color blue.The third is often foregrounded, but it’s the least interesting of the three, or perhaps I should say the most annoying. But one can get around that by rejecting that first line as disingenuous and taking the “love” object for what it really is—an object of obsession. Or, more properly, displaced obsession, since the speaker increasingly seems to be focusing on blue as a way of avoiding the more difficult subjects of depression and loss. (I say “speaker” in deference to the common wisdom that the “narrator” of a poem is not identical to its author, but the speaker in this book does make frequent reference to the act of authoring it.)The path toward this recognition—that the speaker-author is afraid that if she writes about her real subject, the words will supersede her actual experience, the way a childhood photo “replaces the memory it aimed to preserve”—is both fascinating and beautiful. It’s an inquiry into the very nature of color—a purely subjective experience that nonetheless falls under the purview of science—as well as a catalogue of the cultural uses of blue, in books, in pornography, in music. Nelson can write a lovely lyric line (“a sleeve of ash falling off a lit cigarette”; “an ecstatic accident produced by void and fire”) but doesn’t stake her claim in metaphors and images. Bluets is built from ideas and questions: Why has so little been made of the “female gaze”? How long is one permitted to be “blue” before they must admit their life is simply ruined? (The consensus among her friends is seven years.)These ideas and references serve as a string of jumping-off points for self-reflection and realization:
177. Perhaps it is becoming clearer why I felt no romance when you told me that you carried my last letter with you, everywhere you went, for months on end, unopened. This may have served some purpose for you, but whatever it was, surely it bore little resemblance to mine. I never aimed to give you a talisman, an empty vessel to flood with whatever longing, dread, or sorrow happened to be the day’s mood. I wrote it because I had something to say to you.
I never feel satisfied with poetry that is wholly cerebral or wholly emotional, so I love that Maggie Nelson’s writing gives me a philosophy fix along with a hit of the Romantic sublime.____Elisa Gabbert is the poetry editor of Absent and the author of The French Exit (Birds LLC) and Thanks for Sending the Engine (Kitchen Press, 2007). Her latest chapbook co-written with Kathleen Rooney isDon’t ever stay the same; keep changing (Spooky Girlfriend Press). Recent poems can be found inColorado Review, The Laurel Review, Puerto del Sol, and Salt Hill.
Philip Roth’s The Humbling is shrouded in the wintry landscape of his late style. Robin Mookerjee enters the cold.
Read More2009 was a strong year for the teen fiction genre, with inventive entries of every style. Kristin Walker selects three winners in a year-end roundup.
Read MoreDan Baum and Dave Eggers have made very different books on New Orleans and the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina; Thomas Larson separates sense from sensationalism.
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