Literary Death Match Turns 5

On Thursday I went to my second ever Literary Death Match, a reading series where four writers are pitted against each other in front of three judges whose attention toward great books is at best tenuous. Literary Death Match started here, but I had to go to Baltimore this past fall to discover how fun it was, and saw BIG FISH author Daniel Wallace eke out a win at the Baltimore Museum of Art.

At the anniversary show, Iowa memoirist Andre Perry bested British memoirist Jane Bussmann (whose initial reaction to losing was unprintable, yet hilarious) in the final round featuring cupcake throwing and icing dart guns. Bussmann probably had a slight lead because her one-woman show was about to open here, but in the end no one could have predicted the outcome. Jimmy Donn of "The Daily Show" and Alison Espach also read in earlier rounds, Donn from a parody sex manual called OUR BODIES, OUR JUNK and Espach from her debut THE NEIGHBORS.

I highly recommend you seek out Literary Death Match if it's ever near to you; I go to a fair amount of readings, but most of them aren't so rowdy, and it is a welcome change. (I only look like I'm not having fun in Electric Literature's recap.) My initial attraction toward this edition was judge Hannibal Buress, "covering" literary merit -- "I thought this was supposed to be a nerdy '8 Mile,'" he said on finding out every competitor was reading an excerpt from a longer piece -- but not knowing the panelists is no object. New York's next edition is May 25.

Congratulations to the winners of the National Book Critics Circle Awards, announced last night here in Manhattan:

Fiction: Jennifer Egan, A VISIT FROM THE GOON SQUAD
Nonfiction: Isabel Wilkerson, THE WARMTH OF OTHER SUNS
Biography: Sarah Bakewell, HOW TO LIVE
Poetry: C.D. Wright, ONE WITH OTHERS
Criticism: Clare Cavanagh, LYRIC POETRY AND MODERN POLITICS: RUSSIA, POLAND, AND THE WEST
Autobiography: Darin Strauss, HALF A LIFE

...I've got some reading to do.

Wallaceblogging: Following the money

I wanted to use this week's post to respond to the questions posed over at Common Sense Dancing about THE PALE KING and whether it should have been published. Coincidentally there was also an article in the New York Observer this week titled, crudely, "Dead Author Breeds Big Business: The David Foster Wallace Industry," about the release of THE PALE KING and other DFW-related books.

First, I think there are two questions and a supplemental matter for discussion circling in here. Is THE PALE KING a finished book? No; we know from DFW's publisher and agent that he had not turned in a draft, so by that metric of readiness, no.

What would the author have wanted us to do with the unfinished draft? Here is the trouble. DFW didn't leave a Kafkaesque "Burn everything" note behind, and if he did leave a particular PALE KING indication, we have not heard of it yet. Much of the coverage has asked this question in this way: How does it best honor the author's memory -- publication or no publication? and obviously there is no clear answer there, either.

What I liked about the Observer article was the number of DFW-related books that will be arriving on shelves soon, which it brought to light for me. That should indicate how I feel about this -- that I am generally in the "the more the better" camp. If there had been a publishing-related DNR slapped on the draft of THE PALE KING, that would be a different matter... but there wasn't. And to fall into the same fallacy as the article does, I would speculate that if the author truly didn't want that unfinished piece of work published, he would have ensured it would not happen. I believe DFW's wife Karen Green is the executor of his estate and would have carried out his wishes. Again, I say that without any basis in fact, that is all rampant unhealthy speculation on my part.

I don't think any author is or would be super jazzed about publishing a first draft, but it happens a lot. On the other hand, it shouldn't surprise or dishearten anyone to know that DFW left drafts behind, and that those drafts didn't flow perfectly from the Muse through his fingers and onto the page. I think if there were a Gordon Lish situation, we would know about that by now. (I guess there could still be claimants...) On the other other hand, if the existence of drafts ruins the magic for you, possibly you (a) are not a writer yourself and/or (b) seriously need to build a bridge and get over it.

(The supplemental matter, and this is definitely a subject for a broader discussion, is whether the label of "cash-in" is dependent on the amount of money and/or the crassness with which the products are displayed. I was going to write to prove my opinion -- which is that there is a connection -- "Nobody is selling David Foster Wallace T-shirts," but um, er, oops.)

Brian Christian on "The Daily Show"

To the best of my knowledge, this is the first member of my graduating college class to publish a book... and definitely the first that I knew. Looking forward to picking up his book.

The Daily Show - Brian Christian
Tags: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

The Clientele, "Bookshop Casanova"

Slightly old, but insanely catchy. The management does not recommend however that you actually go into a bookshopstore singing this and expect to have success.

Also appreciated, Alasdair MacLean representing for the incredibly pale people of the world. Throw your hands in the air! Then put some more sunscreen on them!

99. J.P. Donleavy, THE GINGER MAN

Do you like stately, plump Buck Mulligan? Want to spend 250 pages with him?

I grabbed this paperback in a hurry because I was going to Hoboken for St. Patrick's Day (observed on Saturday) and, o vanity, needed a book that would fit in my jacket pocket in case things got out of hand. (They didn't.) I had tried to read it almost four years ago and found it difficult to get into, but this time I sailed through the stream-of-consciousness musings of one Sebastian Dangerfield, American expat in Dublin ostensibly going to school on the G.I. Bill but largely scamming drinks and sleeping with every woman who will have him, to the obvious disapproval of his cold English wife.

From what I've read about THE GINGER MAN I know it was banned or at least restricted for much of its published life. It didn't offend me but the depravity wore me down even in that slim a volume. When Sebastian's fortunes seemed to take their umpteenth turn, I both wanted him to succeed in his latest scheme, and knew that he wouldn't. (Vagueness to avoid spoilers.) There is one really incredible sequence involving an animal costume, though.

J.P. Donleavy is in fact still with us -- this is his first novel, probably one of the only first novels on the Modern Library list, and seems to be at least somewhat autobiographical -- but hopefully he hasn't learned to Google himself.

Ellen VS. ML: 53 read, 47 unread.

Next up: After a long suspension, working on #85 LORD JIM on Dailylit.

Also, Chuck, turn a damn light on

Simon and Schuster's new site Ask the Author collects author videos based (ostensibly) around reader questions. I sincerely hope that the publisher is chipping in for video training before setting them loose. Only seems fair! I mean, you'll notice this isn't a vlog right now. (Via Galleycat.)

Unbookening... goes digital?

Bought 1 book
Got 3 returned
Borrowed 3

Gave away 4
Lent 3
Returned 2 to library

Quandary: How should e-books be accounted for? (Slash, should they be accounted for?) On one hand, I bought two this month, and that technically is piling up more volumes than I can read in a lifetime. On the other hand, I started doing this to keep track of physical books I don't have physical room for, and I am well stocked on my Kindle memory card (so far). What would you do?

Spotted on the subway

Obvious prediction: With the publication of its chef's memoir bookings at Prune will only rise. I've never eaten there so I can't say whether it's worth it, but if I read the book I'm sure I'd be curious.

(And damn, what a cover.)

"There’s the 'Autocue Substitute,' where I scan my current sentence for trouble and change vocabulary and grammar to avoid it, without (ideally) my listener noticing. This doesn’t work when I’m doing a reading (though occasionally I’ll substitute a word in one of my own books on the hoof), but it was excellent training for a future novelist. By the age of 15 I was a zit-spattered thesaurus of synonyms and an expert on lexical registers. At my rural comprehensive, substituting the word 'pointless' with 'futile' would get you beaten up for being a snob because the register’s too high—it’s a teacher’s word—so I’d deploy 'useless.'"

--David Mitchell, from an essay on "The King's Speech."

Definitely not the first SNL actor turned author

The adorable "Marcel the Shell with Shoes On" will be published as a children's book in November.



If you haven't gone children's book shopping lately I highly recommend it -- not just because it seems to be one of the most durable segments of publishing.

David Foster Wallace, "Backbone"

Everyone can play along at Wallaceblogging this week because an excerpt from THE PALE KING is in this week's New Yorker. "Backbone" is even available for free online, so if you want to go read it now, I'll wait.

(drums fingers on my desk) 

Well, excerpts sure are frustrating. Without knowing anything else about THE PALE KING I'm feeling sort of a forest/trees disconnect with this piece. Nevertheless, even in short form we see some of the familiar DFW themes popping, like social isolation, and commitment to an impossible task. "Arcane medical conditions" isn't a theme, but a six-year-old seeing a chiropractor would qualify under some similar header. (The McWhirters, I had to Google. There just isn't much of a market for contortionists these days.)

The further I get away from "Backbone" the more I want to know what follows it, because late in the story we shift from the boy (whose predicament, while real, is also painfully symbolic) to his father and his father's problems. What did you think? Do we speculate that THE PALE KING will return to them, or are they just an anecdote?

Sassy Gay Friend does GREAT EXPECTATIONS

And now, with sponsorship.



"We need a new plan for you, one that doesn't involve wearing one shoe for the rest of your life."

Stuff We Love: Goodreads "New Books by Authors You've Read" Newsletter

If you're not already on Goodreads, either you're missing out on a bundle of social networking fun or you likely don't have a desk job (or both).

I can't remember when they started doing this, but I've been getting a newsletter at the beginning of every month featuring books by authors whose books I've listed before. Okay, so I knew Sarah Vowell had a new book out but not about John Elder Robison's second book, nor Mike Daisey's ROUGH MAGIC. I consider myself pretty well steeped in book news but this just goes to show, some things would still slip through the cracks otherwise. Kudos!

— I'm a simple person — said Davin.— You know that. When you told me that night in Harcourt Street those things about your private life, honest to God, Stevie, I was not able to eat my dinner. I was quite bad. I was awake a long time that night. Why did you tell me those things 1 —

— Thanks — said Stephen.— You mean I am a monster.—

— No — said Davin — but I wish you had not told me.—

A tide began to surge beneath the calm surface of Stephen's friendliness.

— This race and this country and this life produced me — he said.— I shall express myself as I am.—

— Try to be one of us — repeated Davin.— In your heart you are an Irishman but your pride is too powerful.—

— My ancestors threw off their language and took another — Stephen said.— They allowed a handful of foreigners to subject them. Do you fancy I am going to pay in my own life and person debts they made? What for? —

— For our freedom — said Davin.

— No honourable and sincere man — said Stephen — has given up to you his life and his youth and his affections from the days of Tone to those of Parnell but you sold him to the enemy or failed him in need or reviled him and left him for another. And you invite me to be one of you. I'd see you damned first.—

— They died for their ideals, Stevie — said Davin.— Our day will come yet, believe me.—

Stephen, following his own thought, was silent for an instant.

— The soul is born — he said vaguely — first in those moments I told you of. It has a slow and dark birth, more mysterious than the birth of the body. When the soul of a man is born in this country there are nets flung at it to hold it back from flight. You talk to me of nationality, language, religion. I shall try to fly by those nets.—

Davin knocked the ashes from his pipe.

— Too deep for me, Stevie — he said.— But a man's country comes first. Ireland first, Stevie. You can be a poet or mystic after.—

— Do you know what Ireland is? — asked Stephen with cold violence.— Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow.—

--James Joyce, A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN. I used to think Stephen Dedalus was the idiot, now I know that it was me.