June 22, 2014
Nongeographic locations to see before you die: the desert of After Proust.

appendix 15 (a) on adjectives

Adjectives are the handles of Being. Nouns name the world, adjectives let you get hold of the name and keep it from flying all over your mind like a pre-Socratic explanation of the cosmos. Air, for example, in Proust can be (adjectivally) gummy, flaked, squeezed, frayed, pressed or percolated in Book 1; powdery, crumbling, embalmed, distilled, scattered, liquid or volatilized in Book 2; woven or brittle in Book 3; congealed in Book 4; melted, glazed, unctuous, elastic, fermenting, contracted, distended in Book 5; solidified in Book 6; and there seems to be no air at all in Book 7. I can see very little value in this kind of information, but making such lists is some of the best fun you’ll have once you enter the desert of After Proust.

—Anne Carson, The Albertine Workout.

June 20, 2014

For readers who love books the way listeners love vinyl: We’ve just received some beautiful vintage original editions of titles by Black Sparrow Press.

A bit of background: John Martin, avant-garde book collector and patron of Charles Bukowski, founded Black Sparrow in 1966, and for thirty-six years sought out the most astounding work of America’s literary outsiders. Writers whose kinship, in the words of David R. Godine, “is with the red blood of Whitman not the blue blood of Longfellow, with the dirty hands of Dreiser not the kid gloves of Edith Wharton. Writers who, on the whole, have looked west, toward the frontier and its promise of wildness, and away from the east, away from ‘civilization’ and its received ideas of excellence and form.” Incredible stuff, indeed. 

These books are incredibly special. T
hey are the original publisher’s editions, not reprints, trucked direct from John Martin’s former Santa Rosa warehouse. Most of them are hand-sewn, on creamy, heavy, acid-free paper, with distinctive cover and text designs by Barbara Martin. Most of the books, once they are sold out, will not be reprinted. 

Which means it’s now or never. 

June 20, 2014
This Wednesday, June 25th, Boris Fishman takes up temporary residence in our basement. His debut novel, A Replacement Life, is wicked good. Have you ever spun a story for attention? What about for money? What about a Holocaust survival story for reparations money? Because that’s what Fishman’s young Brooklynite protagonist does. I won’t divulge what happens to him, but I’ll confidently claim that this is the most compelling novel about history, memory, and narrative that I’ve read in some time. The New York Times compares the author to Bellow, Roth, and Shteyngart, and asks: “Is there room in American fiction for another brilliant young émigré writer? There had better be, because here he is.” Liesl Schillinger will join Mr. Fishman in conversation at 7pm. More details here. 

This Wednesday, June 25th, Boris Fishman takes up temporary residence in our basement. His debut novel, A Replacement Life, is wicked good. Have you ever spun a story for attention? What about for money? What about a Holocaust survival story for reparations money? Because that’s what Fishman’s young Brooklynite protagonist does. I won’t divulge what happens to him, but I’ll confidently claim that this is the most compelling novel about history, memory, and narrative that I’ve read in some time. 

The New York Times compares the author to Bellow, Roth, and Shteyngart, and asks: “Is there room in American fiction for another brilliant young émigré writer? There had better be, because here he is.” 

Liesl Schillinger will join Mr. Fishman in conversation at 7pm. More details here

2:59pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZDtOFy1JFYzWh
  
Filed under: events 
June 20, 2014
Our Essays Club is digging into Colson Whitehead’s collection, The Colossus of New York. Whitehead revitalizes those details of the city to which your senses have grown dull or your consciousness has learned to tune out. Here he is, for example, on how to tell time underground:

They take turns looking down into the darkness and the platform is a clock: the more people standing dumb, the more time has passed since the last train. The people fall from above into hourglass dunes. Collect like seconds.

The group next meets July 2nd at 7pm, in the Travel Section. More details here. 

Our Essays Club is digging into Colson Whitehead’s collection, The Colossus of New York. Whitehead revitalizes those details of the city to which your senses have grown dull or your consciousness has learned to tune out. Here he is, for example, on how to tell time underground:

They take turns looking down into the darkness and the platform is a clock: the more people standing dumb, the more time has passed since the last train. The people fall from above into hourglass dunes. Collect like seconds.

The group next meets July 2nd at 7pm, in the Travel Section. More details here

2:26pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZDtOFy1JFP99N
  
Filed under: essays newyork events 
June 19, 2014
Is that a penis on your poster, or are you just excited for the event?

Is that a penis on your poster, or are you just excited for the event?

June 17, 2014
Tonight at 7pm. Join us for a reading and celebration of Marina Keegan’s work.

Tonight at 7pm. Join us for a reading and celebration of Marina Keegan’s work.

June 13, 2014
Need a last minute gift? Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered.

Need a last minute gift? Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered.

June 12, 2014

For in between matches.

June 9, 2014
If this photo had a soundtrack, it would be Robyn’s “Don’t Fucking Tell Me What To Do.”

If this photo had a soundtrack, it would be Robyn’s “Don’t Fucking Tell Me What To Do.”

June 9, 2014
"In line for Knausgaard at McNally-Jackson - w4m (SoHo)

Would you (M, shoulder-length white hair, glasses, dark blue linen-y shirt) have coffee with me (F, short blonde hair, glasses, printed blue blouse)? We met on line for Knausgaard’s Q&A at McNally-Jackson. I didn’t get your name. Our various friends arrived. I recognized a woman (black hair with bangs, wandering eye) who came over to talk to you. There was something about you — I really wanted to know more!"

— Mysterious linen-wearing white-haired man who came to our Knausgaard event, are you out there? The blonde, blouse-wearing woman in line with you posted a missed connection. Find her!

Liked posts on Tumblr: More liked posts »