Wendell Berry

Wendell Berry’s the kind of writer I’m familiar with by name but not by work.  His name has popped up in such a wide range of my reading over the last few years, that now I’m thinking I must take a longer look at his work.

From what I know, he’s from Kentucky (feeding my curiosity about Southern writers), writes about agriculture among other things, has published a slew of fiction and poetry, and is a professing Christian.   Here’s an interview.  (What he says about progress and death are of particular interest.  It a culture where it’s difficult to accept death and we have no rituals for mourning, it’s nice to hear a non-fearful perspective.  It made me think of DeLillo’s White Noise and the preoccupation with death in that novel.)

He has such a large body of work that I’m not sure where to begin.  I think I’d like to start with fiction, but would be open to nonfiction or poetry.  Any recommendations?

2666 Update

Reading 2666 has proved much less intimidating or scary than I thought.  It’s actually a fairly easy read, and if I’m measuring by vocabulary (can I do this since I’m reading it in translation?), then there are few words I don’t know (and I’ll admit I don’t have the largest vocab).  I had imagined the book being hard to follow, intellectually challenging, and a very slow read.  But it’s interesting and not slow.  I’m nearing page 300, so we’ll see if I can make it to the end before the library starts charging.

I just read here that someone has discovered what might be Part VI of 2666 and the manuscripts of two additional Bolaño novels.

Wealthy Writers

Some writers do get rich.  Read about this $5 million advance.

Describing a Generation?

This blog post from The New Yorker’s Book Bench considers some qualities of the generation who’s presently in their early- to mid-twenties.  The author responds to this op-ed piece from The Washington Post.

I may be out of touch, but I highly disagree that all 20-25 year olds are vampire-obsessed (Stephanie Meyer) and illiterate.  Ron Charles, author of the latter piece, measures this generation by their rebellion, political engagement, and literacy.  (And is it just me or do vampires seem a strange thing to pick out?)

What do you think?  Are these accurate or even meaningful gauges for evaluating a generation?  Granted I don’t walk around a college campus every day, but I do remember enough to know that not many were vampire-obsessed, several engaged in politics, and quite a few read Barthelme and Silvia Plath (or had read them) and were upset by Hunter S. Thompson’s death.  But maybe that was life as an English major on a campus in Boulder.

And what is so wrong with being moderate or conservative?  I don’t think imbibing in all things ’60s and going to jail, contracting STDs, and reading a set group of writers qualifies as that impressive or smart.  Which is not to say I don’t appreciate some of the progress made during the ’60s, rather I don’t think a generation should be judged for its lack of rebellion.

Lorrie Moore on Donald Barthelme

Check it out.

Then listen to the podcast.

American Religion Identification Survey

There are several articles floating around the internet the last few days reporting on the American Religion Identification Survey, including this one with a link to the actual survey.  In 1990, 86% of Americans identified themselves as Christians.  As of 2008, only 76% claim the faith.  Though there have been some geographic drops, the number of Catholics has remained steady, probably a result of the rising Hispanic population.  The number of evangelical Christians has dropped.  More people are calling themselves “evangelical,” though, and fewer are identifying with specific Protestant denominations.

You can read the rest from the article linked above or take a look at the survey.  What strikes me is not the drop, but the fact that people commenting online are celebrating this change.

The Latest at The Other Journal

Click here to read my most recent blog post at The Other Journal.  While you’re there, check out the other bloggers and the articles and essays.

When Food Fails

Wednesday night I was looking forward to eating lots of vegetables.  After a few weeks of slim pickins’ in our fruit and vegetable store (mostly due to moving and some rotting), we finally stocked up on produce from Sunflower Market.  I had all the ingredients out to make Eggplant Rolls from The Vegetarian Cookbook.  I had made them last year, and I think both Ryan and I were surprised by how good they are.

But when I cut the eggplant, it was rotten inside.  It had been out of the store for a matter of maybe an hour.  Since it was nearing 6:30, I opted to cook the other ingredients and a few others in a skillet.  Maybe not the best sounding meal, but I was tired and I prefer to eat closer to 4:30 than 6:30.

The onion, garlic, peppers, zucchini, yellow squash, tomatoes, mushrooms, and at the last minute white kidney beans and an apple tasted surprisingly good.  Maybe I was starved for vegetables, or maybe it was just good, but I enjoyed it enough to eat the leftovers for lunch the next day, and Ryan had seconds.  Next time I might leave out the apple (an impulse) and add rice, but the tomatoes, mushrooms, and beans are essential.  The combination of flavors worked well, and with just the slightest amount of salt, pepper, and oregano.

I didn’t set out to make a vegetarian meal, per se, though the inspiring recipe was just that, and I’m not strictly eating a vegetarian diet just yet, but it was refreshing to have two heaping platefuls and feel comfortably full, knowing that my body appreciates all the nutrients.  It does help to be married to someone who’s willing to eat almost anything and isn’t surprised to find apples hiding in the midst of vegetables.  Maybe when I add pictures to this blog, I’ll post examples of the colorful foods we try to eat.

Long Books

In a few days I’m going to start reading Roberto Bolaño’s novel 2666.  I’m kind of nervous.  It’s around 900 pages and I only have three weeks since it’s a library book with several holds.  I placed a hold on it last year when the English translation came out, and now it’s here.

I’ve read several long books before, but there’s something about starting one that is daunting.  Underworld, at over 800 pages, is among my favorite books, and it took me several tries to make it past the first 50 pages.  Although I’ve read Crime and Punishment twice, I’ve had two false starts with The Brothers Karamazov.  And sadly, even though I’ve twice made it a couple hundred pages into Infinite Jest, I have yet to finish it. (It’s been on my list a long time, especially after reading his first book of essays and several short stories, and now I’m afraid that his death will color my reading of it.)

My goal is to set up a schedule for 2666, like 45 pages a day.  All of those long books mentioned above that I unsuccessfully tried to read are on my list to read this year, so hopefully the next three weeks will provide just the breakthrough I need.

So any suggestions?  I’m curious to know how many people tackle long books, how many actually finish them.  And why is it we can read numerous books that total far more than a few thousand pages, but balk at the effort required for a single thousand-page book?

Odd and Ends

David Kelly writes about the ambiguity critics (and readers) express toward Flannery O’Connor’s talent and place in the canon in the Paper Cuts blog here.  I appreciate his defense of her in the face of a lot of dismissal.  He equates some of the reluctance to admit to her talent (not his own reluctance) to the fact that “readers have been alerted to her worldview.”

But I think there are many ways to read her fiction, and too many aspects of her stories to reduce them to a statement about her worldview.  She, as I know her from her writing, would be appalled.  To paraphrase O’Connor, one cannot stumble on a story’s meaning and substitute that for the experience of reading, for a short story is the experience.  (And yes, that was a terrible paraphrase.)  How many times have people noticed that writers are obsessed usually with one or two topics?  A masterpiece is no less a masterpiece simply because is deals with the same subject as the author’s previous books.  And how is a person supposed to separate her worldview from her writing?  That would only lead to something false, something rotten and devoid of truth.

I read all sorts of books by people with worldviews that do not mesh with my own.  Yet they challenge me and the writing holds the capacity for beauty.  We share a common bond in the human experience, and good writing, in my opinion, speaks to that experience, inviting readers of all religious and political persuasions to join the conversation, to feel a sort of hope at the simple knowing that we’re not alone, that people all over the world experience similar emotions and conundrums as we do.

So shame on those who resist Flannery for her worldview or reduce her to a Southern Catholic woman writer instead of reading her for all that she’s worth.  She was a writer and a Catholic and a Southerner and a woman and a million other things, but those shouldn’t quantify or qualify her fiction in a way that releases one from the burden of doing the hard work and actually reading her.  We shouldn’t rope nouns into playing adjectival roles and thus carving a smaller and smaller place for her in the canon.  Rather, those nouns should be expansive, broadening the scope of her reach.  Do yourself a favor and read one of her stories today.

Listen here to Brad Gooch on the life of Flannery O’Connor on the Book Review Podcast.