Realistic Records, the record label that Derek and I run out of the crawl space beneath his apartment, has a new cd out! It’s the cd version (featuring 3 new songs) of the Recoys record that we put out last summer. So, if you are into the Walkmen and are digging their new album, Bows & Arrows, check out the Recoys, Ham and Pete of the Walkmen’s old band.
I'm pleased to report that Freebird Books & Goods, the terminal stop on our "Walking Tour of New York's Independent Booksellers," has reopened its doors. With its packed wooden shelves, comfortable chairs, creaky floors, selection of fine teas, and breathtaking view of Manhattan, Freebird has been my favorite used bookstore since I first moved in around the corner three years ago. I'm not alone in my enthusiasm; guest-blogging at The Elegant Variation earlier this year, Joshua Ferris, author of Then We Came to the End, wrote of "a palpable feeling that you're in a place where books, no matter how old, are alive and well."Premature nostalgia afflicted me and many of my neighbors when we heard that owners Rachel London and Samantha Citrin were moving on to other endeavors. But it turns out that Freebird is in good hands. New owner Peter Miller is a bibliophile and all-around nice guy. He's dedicated to building on the traditions of the store, while introducing new amenities to draw in new customers.One such innovation is the Freebird blog, where Mr. Miller's been posting images of (and commentary on) the wonderful oddities he's come across in his journey through the stacks. Lively events and a renewed liquor license (coming soon, I'm told), should further burnish the store's reputation. As Mr. Ferris put it, "It's the kind of place that reminds you why you read." So if you're in New York this holiday season, hop the F train to Bergen and make your way down to the waterfront...and be reminded!
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My book-loving friends keep writing me great emails that I feel compelled to share with all of you. Here's one from my friend John about the great books he's been reading:Currently reading Libra by Don Delillo. I've heard from a few people that it's a modern classic, and though I don't know if I necessarily agree with that, it is very good. Fictional retelling of the assassination of JFK. I think it might be overshadowed by Oliver Stone's JFK, but I would say it's an even more plausible a version of what happened. Just finished reading Dispatches by Michael Herr. Don't know if you've read it, but you probably should. He was a freelance journalist in Vietnam (which is what the book is about) and was also the screenwriter for Apocalypse Now and Full Metal Jacket. Probably the most readable book about the Vietnam War; haven't read that much though. I also saw The Sheltering Sky on your queue. Amazing book. That really got me into reading again. Very stark, but somehow it struck a chord. Something about wanting to be an ex-pat, but also seeing the hubris that we Americans have, especially in relation to foreign cultures. Some things never change. Probably my fave author of right now is T.C. Boyle. Love his stuff. His last novel, Drop City, is a great read. The thing about him is that his stories are highly readable. Great stories, great characters.A couple of quick comments: I've been wanting to read Dispatches for a very long time, and I think most of you know how I feel about T.C. Boyle. Also, everyone should check out John's new band The Vanity Fair, they were sent here to rock. I also got a great email from longtime Millions contributor Brian that I'd like to share with all of you:Not a lot of time, but just wanted to drop an e-mail, let you know I read Orwell's Homage to Catalonia. Fantastic. He went to Spain to write about the Spanish Civil War but felt so strongly he joined the fight. He was in the trenches, fought, got shot in the throat, recovered, took part in street battles in Barcelona, was pursued by the police for being a member of the Marxist group P.O.U.M., fled to England and wrote the book. This passage is from just before he fled: "I seemed to catch a momentary glimpse, a sort of far-off rumour of the Spain that dwells in everyone's imagination. White sierras, goatherds, dungeons of the Inquisition, Moorish palaces, black winding trains of mules, grey olive trees and groves of lemons, girls in black mantillas, the wines of Malaga and Alicante, cathedrals, cardinals, bull-fights, gypsies, serenades -- in short, Spain. Of all Europe it was the country that had had most hold upon my imagination."Great stuff guys. Thanks! If anyone else out there wants to contribute, just drop me an email. Remember, my Millions is your Millions. I have tons of stuff to write about, including the two books I finished last week, but I'm off to New York tomorrow for a few days, maybe a week, so it may have to wait until I get back.
In Elmira, NY, six high school students banded together to break the Guinness Book of Records marathon reading record. Says the AP:They whizzed through more than 20 beloved children's books, including the six-volume Harry Potter series, seven Goosebumps thrillers and Katherine Paterson's Bridge to Terabithia. They wrapped up their epic, 128-hour performance on the school auditorium stage with Oh, the Places You'll Go, a Dr. Seuss classic.Meanwhile, in Albany, other long-distance readers, among them William Kennedy and Andy Rooney, joined forces for a 24-hour reading of Moby Dick, as part of "Why Melville Matters Now" weekend at the Albany Academies school.
With recent postings devoted to the second Litblog Co-op pick, Steve Stern's Angel of Forgetfulness, the LBC Blog is living up to its promise. This weekend, Stern's editor Paul Slovak posted his comments about the book and also delved into details about some of the other writers he works with including T.C. Boyle and William T. Vollmann. Also making a guest appearance was Stern himself, who responded to the dialogue about his book that Derik and Dan had going last week.
In September, I posted that Michael Chabon's next book, The Yiddish Policemen's Union, his first full-length adult novel since The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, was to be released on April 11, 2006. Alas, the book has been delayed. Chabon's done with the manuscript, but there were scheduling problems with his publisher, HarperCollins. Chabon announced the delay on his Web site:HarperCollins had been sort of rushing the thing along, over a steady but polite murmur from the author that perhaps they were moving too quickly. The manuscript was complete. It was not impossible to make the April 11 pub date. But we didn't even have a finished jacket. Many people who were selling and marketing the book hadn't had the opportunity to read it. Everything just felt too rushed and when that sense of undue haste finally caught on at the publishing house, I was able to persuade them to see reason, and wait.The new date is now "Winter 2007."
I'm apparently not the first person to wonder, in connection with last week's PEN World Voices Festival, What makes a good panel discussion? It may seem a parochial concern - the kind of thing best hashed out at... well, a panel discussion - but it has real-world implications. Discussions of books by people who write them can be exhilarating to witness, but there's also the potential for gnaw-your-own-leg-off tedium.Wednesday's celebration of 40 years of Anagrama, the illustrious, Barcelona-based independent publisher, highlighted some of these possibilities and pitfalls. The panelists themselves, including Anagrama founder Jorge Herralde and four of his authors, had personality to spare. According to Herralde, these authors occupied the "in-between spaces" of culture and language - always a good thing for conversation. And yet translation problems kept the evening from sustaining any real momentum.Francisco Goldman led off, attempting to capture the role of Anagrama in Hispanophone literary life. He likened it to "Knopf, FSG, Grove, and New Directions" rolled into one. With a novelist's eye for detail, he described the dustjackets of Anagrama's various series - "bright, marigold yellow" for translations; "mint green" for Spanish-language originals; gray for "grown-up books" like philosophy. Anagrama, he pointed out, was founded at the tail end of the Franco era, when publishing serious literature was itself an act of editorial daring. And yet even in a more genteel 21st Century Spain, the house keeps renewing itself, most recently by bringing to international attention the extraordinary "flowering of Latin American fiction" in the last decade.Goldman promised to tell us later about Anagrama's great parties and "How I got to get drunk with the heavy metal rock band Slayer." But, as the translator fumbled with Herralde's introduction of the next speaker, A.M. Homes, it seemed increasingly unlikely we would have time to hear from Goldman about Slayer, or about anything else. By the time the translator (an American, it seemed) described Homes's work as "misericordian" and (I swear) "vorocious," half of the audience was laughing in embarrassment, and the other half, including the elderly woman next to me, were yelling out the correct translations. Given the floor (finally) Homes spoke movingly about what it meant to a "horribly American" writer like herself to be published abroad. "It means my work has relevance," she said. Being translated was "an honor. . . and a gift." The panel had righted itself again.Next up was Siri Hustvedt, looking prosperous in a designer cardigan as her husband, Paul Auster watched from the front row. Herralde's introduction made it clear that Hustvedt is huge in Spain, with something like 20,000 copies of Sorrows of an American in print. For previous books, she shared a Spanish publisher with Don DeLillo, he said. (I figured that out, and I don't speak Spanish.) The translator's version? "She shared a car with Don DeLillo." At this point Hustvedt herself interjected - "No, no, no, no." Fortunately, after Hustvedt's fanciful disquisition on neurology and the imagination a new translator had arrived. The first young woman may merely have been pinch-hitting for the second, who I'm guessing got lost or had train problems. And so the two Spanish-speaking novelists on stage were the beneficiaries of fluid translation.The first to speak was Daniel Sada, who, according to Herralde, was on Roberto Bolaño's short-list of favorite writers, which fluctuated according to who he was friends with at any given time. The other candidates? Rodrigo Fresán, Alan Pauls, Rodrigo Rey Rosa, Javier Marías, and the man seated to Sada's right, Enrique Vila-Matas. Sada spoke about the 19th-Century tradition that shaped him, and its two great problems: managing character and managing time. He quoted Zola: "a novel with less than 25 characters is not worth reading." Sada's ambition as a young man was to write a 19th-Century novel that would also be a piece of poetry. "I understand now that this is an idiotic idea," he said. Still, his fiction is apparently difficult to translate because of his careful attention to the rhythms of his sentences. (All of this made me hungry to read his novel, Almost Never, which will be published in English next year by Graywolf.)The final panelist was Vila-Matas, whom I can only describe as looking like an Iberian Christopher Hitchens. Open-collared and looking pleasantly sauced at 7 p.m., he delivered a fluid series of anecdotes and aphorisms, most of them offering a rascally picture of his dealings with Herralde. My favorite had to do with bumping into Herralde in a discotheque while "in a euphoric state" and lying about having completed a novel. In the end, though, Vila-Matas turned earnest. "Without the trust [of Herralde and Anagrama] it's not clear I would still be a writer."The best part of any panel discussion is the discussion, but because so much time had been burned up by prepared remarks and language difficulties, there was hardly any time for these panelists to mix it up. (Note to future programmers: the next best thing to a good translation is not a bad translation, but no translation at all.) Still, this remarkable gathering of writers offered an effective introduction to Anagrama's work, and offered a testament to the power of independent presses and iconoclastic publishers.[Ed.'s note: Vila-Matas does look like an Iberian Hitch, but does not write like one. We apologize for any confusion.]
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