Southern Bookman

Dear Lord, Is It Pretentious

Sam Sacks in a haughty Wall Street Journal review Thursday dismisses Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's new novel "Americanah." "...Dear Lord, is it pretentious," Sacks says.

The in-house fiction critic for the Journal's Saturday literary section, Sacks likely gives his honest appraisal of "Americanah," calling it preachy and moralizing. Yet I wondered why the WSJ couldn't find an African-American woman, or man, to do the review.

I read an excerpt of Adiche's book in the New Yorker and thought it a strong work of fiction. The full "Americanah" might be as bad as Sacks says, but his condescending tone raises my doubts about his ability to appreciate her work.

E-books Hit the Stacks

Anthony W. Marx, head of the New York Public Library, in a New York Times op-ed article today praises the Big Six (not the Original Six - that's hockey) book publishers for increasing the library's access to e-books. Yet Marx's piece makes clear that the publishers have placed severe restrictions on e-book circulation.

Marx, in another context under fire for plans to renovate the library's Fifth Avenue crown jewel, sees e-books as the future. My take-away is that limits on e-book circulation widen the "digital divide" between those who can buy the newest devices and e-information and those who can't. At least Marx is consistent - his plans to rip up the hallowed Fifth Avenue library reading room and create some kind of Internet cafe gave a collective shudder to the intellectual class horrified that the plan would be taking democracy too far, block that cappuccino!

Meanwhile, the irrepressible Tom Friedman, in his adjacent column, comes up with another of his glib concepts. Nowadays, it's a "401 (k) world," says Mr. Tom, meaning that unlike in the old pension-Social Security world, workers have to fend for themselves and acquire ever more rarified skills to survive in the "hyper-connected" world. Mr. Tom finds "a lot of this scary," although it can be presumed that his 401 ( k) looks pretty good. It's cold out there for a pimp, but Mr. Tom can charge nearly $1,000 a head to attend his seminar on this scary, scary hyper-connected world.

As Marx says, - Anthony, not Karl - more and more people are using the library for Internet access, to check e-mail and increase those skills Friedman discusses. Yet library funding goes down and the profit-hungry publishers place limits on e-books.

After all of this, I felt a bit queasy to find on the business page that cash-heavy Apple, the leading maker of smart phones and tablets for easy e-book enlightenment, is issuing millions in bonds, essentially acquiring more cash by raising debt. Apple reportedly will use some of that money for dividends to shareholders. If only I had bought Apple Stock, my 401 (k) would look much brighter and I could afford to acquire whatever skills Mr. Tom somewhat murkily says I will need for the scary 401 (k) world. I might even be able to attend one of his seminars, or figure out how to download e-books from the library to my Apple-made I-Pad. Marx says many folks don't even know they can download e-books from the library. I tried to download some to my Nook, but all the books I wanted had a long waiting time, as admittedly is the situation with old fashioned paper books. Marx's article makes clear why.

Perhaps we could go back to that other Marx and say "workers of the world unite" but that boat has apparently already sunk in our 401 (k) world. Groucho Marx might give us a bit of insight too; I'm sure his clips can be found on You Tube.

If the Big Six makes you dizzy, there's always the Original Six: all of them are in the NHL playoffs for the first time in ages. The best bet for the Stanley Cup, an ESPN analyst says, are Pittsburgh and Chicago, two cities that make me nostalgic for the old non-hyper-connected world.

Salinger Letters Show Writer's Youth

Nine letters written by J.D. Salinger in the early 1940s to a young woman in Toronto have been purchased by the Morgan Library in New York, The New York Times reported this week.

The letters reveal a breezy, flirty, gossipy young man, not yet darkened by his World War II combat. He mentions the New Yorker buying a short story featuring a young character named Holden Caulfield. The story, "A Small Rebellion Off Madison," was not published until after the war. The Times quotes Salinger as saying the magazine expressed its interest in other stories about the disaffected young boy. For whatever reason, Holden remained in his imagination, at last culminating in the classic "A Catcher in The Rye."

Salinger, who fought extensively in Europe, including D-Day and the Battle of the Bulge, suffered severe mental trauma and eventually made himself a recluse toward the end of his life. "For Esme With Love and Squalor," perhaps his finest achievement, tells of a young soldier's correspondence with a young woman, starting with light-hearted letters before the experience of combat and ending with war-haunted letters outlining the soldier's severe emotional collapse.

"Esme" was based on his letters to another young woman, not his Toronto pen pal, who's still alive and in her 90s. But the newly discovered letters reveal the same exuberant joy of living whose loss is registered in "Esme." The new letters show Salinger's love of slang and colloquial speech. That wit and gift for the vernacular lived on in "The Catcher in the Rye," "Nine Stories," "Franny and Zoey" and " Raise High the Roof Beams Carpenters." Along with his fresh American language, the deepening of his tragic sense because of the war made him one of our great writers, despite his small body of works.

New York magazine Salutes New York Review

New York magazine, born from the New York's devastating newspaper strike of 1962-63, salutes another publication that rose from the strike. The magazine in its current issue features an in-depth "conversation" with Robert Silvers, legendary editor of The New York Review of Books, which began 50 years ago as a direct result of the labor dispute that brought the demise of four New York newspapers, including the distinguished Herald Tribune.

The strike halted the literary reviews and ads upon which the publishing industry depended. Publisher Jason Epstein, seeing an opportunity, launched the review along with intellectuals such as the critic Elizabeth Hardwick, her husband, the poet Robert Lowell, and Silvers himself. Along with filling the commercial needs of publishers, the review sought to raise the standards of book reviews, with an innovative new form of essays on books.

New York magazine, just as innovative in the realm of popular journalism, also came about from the strike. The magazine was the continuation of the Herald Tribune's Sunday supplement, which featured stars such as Tom Wolf and Jimmy Breslin.

Silvers in the interview gives an engaging account of his editorial acumen and the New York Review's history. The conversation appears in the same issue with Frank Rich's astute meditation on the decline of "old media" in the age of the Internet and e-publishing. New York magazine and the New York Review bolster Rich's message that editorial innovation will succeed in an era of turbulent change.

Gay Talese Enters the Bunker, and The New Yorker

Gay Talese, who's rarely if ever published in The New Yorker during his illustruous career, broke into the august magazine a couple of weeks ago with a profile of New York Yankees manager Joe Girardi. In tandem with the piece, The New Yorker web site ran a video of Talese giving a tour of his "bunker," his writing office located in the basement below the New York townhome he shares with his wife, Nan, the noted book publisher.

To enter his retreat, Talese must walk down the stairs of his townhome, traverse a few steps on the sidewalk, then go down a few more stairs to a room that once served as a wine cellar. The video shows Talese making this short jaunt. Once in his hideaway, Talese displayed a glee in his work, and clothing.

The dapper, elegantly graying man, saying his haberdashery derives from his Italian heritage, sported a beige suit, blue striped shirt, yellow tie and staw fedora. His soundproof office, which lacks a phone, is crammed with files of Talese's work for five decades. He gave a demonstration of his reporting methods, how he interviews his subjects without taking notes, then immediately writes down the conversation on pieces of cardboard specifically cut to fit his jacket pockets. Connecting to  his sylish clothes, the cardboard looked like the kind cleaners place into startched shirts. I was somewhat surprised to see Talese working on a desktop computer; I half-expected him to be of the old school that still works on a typewriter, or even writes longhand. That Talese in his 70s remains so vital and attractive is inspiring.

Much of Talese's classic work was done for Esquire magazine. It's good that the New Yorker is now accepting Talese's pieces; editor David Remnick has opened the magazine to a wider variety of writers.

The piece on Girardi displays the controlled qualities of masters like Talese, who uses simple declarative sentences and well-chosen facts such as hitting statistics to build an interesting, understated narrative. His profile reminded me of the work of another master long associated with The New Yorker, John McPhee.

Talese, McPhee and Robert Caro are among a generation of writers who gave heightened literary quality to nonfiction writing. Tom Wolfe is another illustrous member of that generation, who, however, has turned to novel writing late in his career.

With eulogies of print continuing, a new generation of writers such as Katherine Boo and Michael Lewis have continued producing vital nonfiction works, continuing in the path of Talese, McPhee, Caro and others.

The recent death of legendary New York Times publisher Punch Sulzberger made me want to go back to Talese's classic book "The Power and the Glory," about how Sulzberger revitalized the Times. Seeing the video of Talese in his work space increased my desire to revisit that book, along with Talese's other work, such as his Esquire pieces on Joe DiMaggio and Frank Sinatra. Talese is such an epitome of New York style and culture, that it's striking to remember that he is a proud graduate of the University of Alabama.

Findings From a Saturday Book Sale

The Atlanta History Center's book sale last Saturday was disappointing, with just a few interesting books among the usual selections seen at such used-book sales. Will Durant's "History of Philosophy" anyone? I did find a couple of tempting tomes from the Adams brothers, a coffee-table edition of Henry's "Mont St. Michel and Chartres" and Brooks' study of Massachusetts history. I did purchase two books, a biography of Ring Lardner and a copy of Wilfred Sheed's "Essays in Disguise."

Ring Lardner and Wilfred Sheed, two fine American writers who can be seen as minor/major. Lardner wrote "You Know Me Al," the baseball classic, and was part of the early New Yorker set that did so much to set the tone of American culture. Sheed wrote fine novels, criticism and personal essays. His study of "American Songbook" composers is one of the best books I've read.

Both writers were products of the healthy U.S. magazine and publishing culture, now under siege by the Internet and blogs (like this one). But news of publishing's death might be exaggerated, as the tablet market continues to grow. Just today, Barnes and Noble announced two new models of its Nook for a niche not covered by Amazon's Kindle. Also of interest today, the Wall Street Journal's Holman Jenkins had the message "content is king." Jenkins was actually talking about Apple's efforts to show TV shows, claiming that TV would withstand Apple better than the music industry, but his point also applies to the Tablets and reading material. Books and printed magazines might be obsolete, although they continue to chew up many, many trees, but the written word will continue to be disseminated in e-formats. (Although James David Kunstler points out that they deplete resources such as rare earth minerals and might be doomed as well). While the Internet gives a forum to ranters and nutcases, well-reasoned thought and artistic excellence eventually will find an audience in the marketplace. That might require a reorganization of the publishing industry, but good writing will always find a prominent place.  

An Atavistic Publishing Venture

The New York Times' media watchdog David Carr reported this morning that old media turned new media mogul Barry Diller is involved with a new e-book publishing venture with Atavist, a Brooklyn startup that offers an e-book platform for would be publishers, writers and pundits. Atavist's original mission, as related to its name, was to provide a format for publishing old-fashioned lengthy pieces in the new e-world. Looks like the bright young kids have hit the jackpot with the new venture, to be called Brightline.

Brightline will seek to compete with the e-book heavyweight Amazon, which has already signed up some bigtime publishing and writing talent. It's striking that "content" remains the vital ingredient, no matter the format. Stories are a key part of human nature, whether told orally over the campfire, written on scrolls or transcribed by monks with pens, produced by printing presses, or, now, by electronic pulses.

As the e-book world churns, I am happy with my Nook and a bunch of recent discoveries. The former New Yorker worker Janet Groth's memoir "The Receptionist"  is among my recent downloads. Her recollection of her years at the magazine, with memories of famed New Yorker writers like Joseph Mitchell and the doomed poet John Berryman, makes me wonder how she remained on the receptionist's desk for 18 years without writing for the magazine. Her ability to set scenes and convey character was sorely needed during former editor William Shawn's late years.

Also, I have on my Nook library poems of Laura Kasischke, discovered through The Sunday New York Times Magazine's piece on Stephen Burt, the cross-dressing Harvard literary critic. Yes, those terms are correct; read the piece. Kasischke's strong vision and original use of language in her collection "Space, In Chains," stand out.

Of course, I remain a denizen of the old print world. I discovered in the library a copy of Burt's "The Age of Randall Jarrell," which I checked out, as well as poet/critic Louis Simpson's study of Ezra Pound, T.S. Eliot and William Carlos Williams. Simpson, whose poems I once studied when I first started in the poery world, died this week, another fine mind ruined by Alzheimer's. He was one of America's under-appreciated World War II and after poets, with a refined, muted understanding of the desperation beneath American affluence.

As I mourn longtime favorites like Simpson, the fall-like weather makes me glad at the prospect of new literary discoveries, both in the E and old-print worlds.

 

A Crop of New Fall Books

Cooler weather and Sunday newspaper specials about the new arts season sharpen my anticipation about new books arriving for fall. Last week, The New York Times ran a story about a blockbuster season, especially in ficton, with heavyweights such as Ian McEwan, Zadie Smith and Michael Chabon coming out with new novels.

Such reports belie the gloomy news of the last decade or so about declines in  readers of novels. The new books by tested best-sellers indicate that publishers are not taking chances on new writers or not publishing less commercial authrors. Still, plenty of new writers have their first or second books placed before the public.

Also last week, agreement was reached in the price-fixing case involving Apple and book publishers, so e-book prices presumably will drop, just as Amazon comes out with the new Kindle.

The Times story showed that new books for a new season can still generate excitement. People are still reading, no matter the format.

A Crop of New Fall Books

Cooler weather and Sunday newspaper specials about the new arts season sharpen my anticipation about new books arriving for fall. Last week, The New York Times ran a story about a blockbuster season, especially in ficton, with heavyweights such as Ian McEwan, Zadie Smith and Michael Chabon coming out with new novels.

Such reports belie the gloomy news of the last decade or so about declines in  readers of novels. The new books by tested best-sellers indicate that publishers are not taking chances on new writers or not publishing less commercial authrors. Still, plenty of new writers have their first or second books placed before the public.

Also last week, agreement was reached in the price-fixing case involving Apple and book publishers, so e-book prices presumably will drop, just as Amazon comes out with the new Kindle.

The Times story showed that new books for a new season can still generate excitement. People are still reading, no matter the format.

David Talbot's "Season of the Witch" Gives Compelling, Loving Portrait of San Francisco

After a recent trip to San Francisco, I found that part of me, as with the old song about leaving the heart, remained in the beautiful city by the bay. To bathe in my San Francisco vibe, I downloaded on my Nook tablet David Talbot's history of San Francisco from the 1960s through the aftermath of AIDS, "Season of the Witch."

Talbot, the founder of the online news site Salon and a San Francisco transplant from Los Angeles, gives a fascinating account of San Francisco's bigger than life characters and major late 20th century events, from the Summer of Love to the SLA's kidnapping of Patty Hearst, to the People's Temple James Jones tragedy and the killings of Mayor George Moscone and councilman Harvey Milk. The book, packed with details and based on a number of interviews, rivals Jonathan Mahler's similar history of New York, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Bronx Is Burning." Along the way, Talbot presents a gallery of characters, from left-wing lawyers, Neanderthal cops and politicians, to musicians, artists, thugs, murderers,  and political activists. He gives fresh looks at well-known figures such as former Mayor and now U.S. Sen. Dianne Finestein, 49ers coach Bill Walsh, politico Willie Brown, newspaper columnist Herb Caen and others. By the way, he also gives a minor, if interesting, rundown of the history of the famed Tony Bennett song, "I Left My Heart in San Francicso," which I've recently been playing repeatedly on the piano.

The book received a mean-spirited and off-base scolding in The Sunday New York Times Book Review from someone named Ellen Ullman, who blasted Talbot for giving two chapters to the San Francisco 49ers winning the Super Bowl, bringing healing and normality to a city that had endured decades of extreme politics and social upheaval, and, at least in her eyes, slighting the role of lesbians in rebuilding and healing the city. Talbot penned a protest of the review, which the Book Review printed, along with a weak rejoinder from Ullman.  After reading Talbot's book, I think that Ullman was completely wrong. Her piece points up the continuing decline in the book review's standards in choosing reviewers, along with their writing and judgments.

She does point to a strength of the book, Talbot's in-depth interviews. And, the two chapters devoted to the 49ers are the least compelling in the book, not because of a falloff in the quality of writing and research, but because the winning of the Super Bowl pales in comparison to the dramatic events that shook San Francisco in those years.

Anyone who lived through those times and has a strong knowledge of what occurred in the city will find a wealth of new information in "Season of the Witch." The last pages devoted to the AIDs crisis are a poignant testimony to the human spirit. The book made me feel, paraphrasing John F. Kennedy, "eich bin en San Franciscan."

Speaking of the Nook, I was full of happiness at the tablet after using it to download a copy of Los Angeles food critic Jonathan Gold's collection of reviews about ethnic restaurants in that city, a tome I'd looked for fruitlessly for years in bookstores. Alas, just when my Nook feelings had reached a new high, I bought a volume of writings by legendary rock critic Lester Bangs, only to find blank pages when I tried to read it. (A commentary on the lost brain cells of the era?) I called the Nook helpline, and talked for some time to a friendly Asian woman, who, although we couldn't understand every other word, gave me detailed instructions about how to fix the problem. However, her solution didn't work, so she promised to report the situation to a technical team, whom she said would need a week or two to fill the empty spaces with Bangs' vivid prose. I hope that occurs, but I'm skeptical, especially since Nook apparently no longer sends me emails confiming my purchases.

Despite the occasional breakdowns, I'm generally happy with the Nook, after my initial impulse to take it back after receiving it as a Christmas gift. I still love print on dead trees, but the Nook offers many advantages. I find it eases the acquiring and reading of books. Several weeks ago, I downloaded the Sunday Washington Post for 75 cents, and marveled at the facility in reading the newspaper, flipping through the pages with e-ease.