February 2012
26 posts
“May I,” I asked with diffidence, “take a moment to acquaint myself with, and taste the qualities of, the most sterling and serious, and at the same time of course also the most read and most quickly acknowledged and purchased, reading matter? You would pledge me in high degree to unusual gratitude were you to be so extremely kind as to lay generously before me that book which, as certainly nobody can know precisely as only you yourself, has found the highest place in the estimation of the reading public, as well as that of the dreaded and thence doubtless flatteringly circumvented critics, and which furthermore has made them merry. You cannot conceive how keen I am to learn at once which of all these books or works of the pen piled high and put on show here is the favorite book in question, the sight of which in all probability, as I must most energetically suppose, will make me at once a joyous and enthusiastic purchaser. My longing to see the favorite author of the cultivated world and his admired, thunderously applauded masterpiece, and, as I said, probably also at once buy the same, aches and ripples through my every limb. May I most politely ask you to show me this most successful book, so that this desire, which has seized my entire being, may acknowledge itself gratified, and cease to trouble me?”
A Robert Walser character walks into a bookstore. He does not, after all that, buy the book. (From “The Walk,” which is in his Selected Stories, out out of print from NYRB (pronounced “nerb”).)
There are books I read as a child that I have re-read periodically ever since; there are children’s books that I have only known as an adult, and then there are the books that I read when I was young but for some reason haven’t read since. There’s nothing really strange about this; I am, after…
Our own Kate Milford, thinking about A Wrinkle in Time. If you like this, perhaps you might like reading the first chapter of her new novel, The Broken Lands, up on Goodreads. But really you should start with The Boneshaker.
Remember how I wouldn’t stop asking you to buy Leaving the Atocha Station, even before it came out? How I offered you 10% off your stuff if you bought it? It was great, I insisted. I continue to insist this, now for n+1.
Hi there, Jonathan Franzen. We hope you are having a lovely Tuesday. So you say Edith Wharton was a prude, confined largely to a sexless marriage, hemmed in by plainness and haunted to write about the very beauty and passion that was lacking in her own life?
But have you read her porn?…
Heavens!
As tempting as the latest Tim Ferriss is, we will not carry Amazon books.
Here’s Salz “The Owner of the Joint” McNalz on the Brian Lehrer Show talking about—wait for it—books! She likes Tony Judt, The Orphan Master’s Son, and The Loss Library and Other Unfinished Stories.
“In the Electric Tram” by Robert Walser at the NYRblog, an excerpt from the recently released Berlin Stories, translated by Susan Bernofsky
Find NYRB Classics on Tumblr here.
(Bonus: Bernofsky also translated Walser’s novel The Tanners, published by New Directions.)
Like I said on the twitter, some literary genealogist needs to trace the line from Nicholson Baker back to Walser. They’re both so cheery! (At least in Berlin Stories, which I’m reading now.)
Oh, Anonymous! I wish I could. We have so many—and so many good ones—but no easy list. Do you remember anything about it: whatever piece made you want it, the shape, the size, the cover, anything?
Diane Williams, Vicky Swanky is a Beauty
Alan Lightman, Mr g
Gustav Janouch, Conversations with Kafka
Ben Marcus, The Flame Alphabet
Leigh Stein, The Fallback Plan
Michel Houellebecq, The Map and the Territory
Ivan Vladislavic, The Loss Library and Other Unfinished Stories
Nick Laird, The Impossibly
Adam Johnson, The Orphan Master’s Son
Shalom Auslander, Hope: A Tragedy (here tonight at 7pm!)
George Steiner, The Poetry of Thought
Alexis Smith, Glaciers
H.G. Adler, Panorama
Robert Walser, Berlin Stories
Edward St. Aubyn, The Patrick Melrose Novels
