New York’s NPR affiliate, WNYC, has posted downloadable audio of last weekend’s 75th Birthday celebration for Philip Roth. Featured speakers include Jonathan Lethem, Charles D’Ambrosio, and Hermione Lee. Alvin Pepler, unfortunately, had a prior engagement…
With the launch of Apple's iPad, some of the literary web is focusing on the impending doom and loss that the e-book revolution will bring. Though some of the major publishing houses have welcomed the iPad with open arms, others are less eager to sign on. Yet beyond the publishing houses, there's a whole group -- the consumers of books -- that is very much concerned with the way in which e-readers will change how we read. It's the readers of books, after all, that will be affected most by a switch from print to digital. Lost will be the days of curling up with a yellowed and musty book adopted from your local library. Farewell to those nights when you, on an impulse, run to your local bookstore and return with more than you ever intended to purchase and sit up reading until the wee-hours. Adios to those cookbooks with grandmama's annotations, sprinkled with splotches of her world famous pasta sauce. While these moments have the potential to be lost to modernity, they will be replaced by new experiences with the written word -- albeit, perhaps less fragrant And yet still, there are those who are now, as in Mokoto Rich's article in the New York Times, lamenting another loss, the culture of reading. You know the scenario, but here's my anecdote. I'm sitting on the shuttle to my gym. The girl sitting across from me is about my age, she's dressed similarly to me, wearing glasses, and she has a yoga mat strapped to her bag. In other words -- she could or could not be my future best friend. In her lap is The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and I think to myself, "I wonder if that book is any good." Maybe I go home and read reviews of the book. Maybe I take a leap of faith and purchase it right away. But regardless, I'm now seeing the book as something of interest to me because I see myself in its readers. These types of encounters happen all of the time in the culture of reading, and yet as e-books are clearly the way of the future, the likelihood of the scenario happening will certainly decrease. Years (maybe even months) from now, the others on the shuttle will be immersed in their e-readers -- much in the same way that many of them are currently focused on their iPhones or Blackberries. And I, looking at each of them, won't have the slightest idea of what they are reading or looking at. The yoga mat will be there, and the clothes will still be similar, but the only cue I will gather is that I too should be looking down at a device. But of course, we don't just get our book recommendations from random people on public transportation. Amazon has virtually changed the way we can browse and buy books, and online communities such as Goodreads have sprouted up to connect forlorn readers to other like-minded folks on the internet. If you are a supporter of the independent bookstore movement, you know that a good bookstore is like a great wine store -- its shelves are curated by experts (or maybe just people with a lot of time to read) you trust. And there will always be the world of web reviews. "Yes," you say, "all of this is true. But what about when I am on a bus?" With some certainty I'll say that we can look to the iPhone to get an idea of the possibility for the iPad. Though there are far too many applications available for the iPhone than one could ever keep track of, one category has been getting lots of attention -- location-based social networking apps. Gowalla, Foursquare and Whrrl are the big three, but I'm sure there are others out there. What these apps all provide is the ability to know where your friends are and let others know where you are by "checking in" to restaurants, bars, bookstores, etc. The apps also identify your location and then tell you "What's Trending" near you. Right now, for instance, the coffee shop up the street from my office is trending (10 people have checked in). So what does all of this have to do with the iPad and the culture of reading? Currently, when I search 'Literature' or 'Books' or 'Reading' in the App Store, I come up with pages and pages of apps. Many of them help you read e-books or listen to audio books. Some of them are actual compilations of certain types of literature (Classics, Shakespeare, etc.). And there are others, such as Electric Literature or Small Chair that operate like magazines, feeding subscribers weekly or monthly exclusive bits. From my cursory view, only one of the apps, the Goodreads app, actually has a community element baked into it. There is potential here and I'm not a product person so I can only imagine a sliver of the myriad, though I will try. What if there were a way to know what people near me were reading? What if I could find out what other books they've read to know better if they're a compatible recommender of books? What if I couldn't judge a book by a yoga mat? Would I find better matches, or perhaps more accurate ones? Because though the girl across from me might look like my type of friend, I may actually hate The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and let's be honest, what 20-something girl in San Francisco doesn't practice yoga. Certainly not all of them share my literary tastes. Perhaps, even, my taste in literature is more compatible with the quinquagenarian sitting at the back of the shuttle. While it sounds like a huge invasion of privacy to know that someone near me named Ed is reading the Twilight Saga, if Ed wants me to know, then I could potentially learn from Ed by knowing that not just is he reading New Moon, but he's also a huge fan of Poe and just finished a collection of short stories by Joyce Carol Oates that I didn't even know existed. By not judging Ed for the fact that he is a fifty-five-year-old male wearing tube socks, I transcend the shackles of whom I imagine I can identify with -- as a reader and beyond. I can identify with anyone, and that's really the point of technology: to open up the world. We are social creatures by nature and we like to observe the people around us -- public transportation sometimes gives us no other choice. But just because technology will change the way we read does not mean that a new culture of reading won't be born of it. Indeed, our constant has always been change. Though seemingly scary now, I'm confident that whatever amount of visual transparency we lose from going digital we will gain in learning a bit more about ourselves and the world outside of our walls of judgment. [Image credit:Bruce Clay]
Michael Lewis turns in yet another tremendous piece in the current issue of Vanity Fair. This one is about the catastrophic financial collapse in Iceland:Walking into the P.M.'s minute headquarters, I expect to be stopped and searched, or at least asked for photo identification. Instead I find a single policeman sitting behind a reception desk, feet up on the table, reading a newspaper. He glances up, bored. "I'm here to see the prime minister," I say for the first time in my life. He's unimpressed. Anyone here can see the prime minister. Half a dozen people will tell me that one of the reasons Icelanders thought they would be taken seriously as global financiers is that all Icelanders feel important. One reason they all feel important is that they all can go see the prime minister anytime they like. For those following along at home, we've also noted Lewis' two takes on the Wall Street collapse and his more recent piece on the NBA.
In the LRB this month, professor and novelist Clancy Martin offers a brutally candid account of his own attempts to get sober. The piece is affecting, horrifying, and enlightening:As a child I visited my older sister in a psychiatric hospital, but I hadn't been inside one for 30 years. Then, on 1 January this year, at about 11 o'clock in the evening, my wife found me, feet kicking, dangling from an improvised rope - a twisted yellow sheet - about a metre off the ground in our bedroom closet. Our two-year-old daughter was in the bed, sleeping, just a few feet away. Somehow the proximity of a child to the parent's suicide, as with Sylvia Plath's little children in that lonely London flat, increases the suicide's shame. I was at the end of a binge. I was also at the end of three years of secret drinking, of hiding bottles and sneaking away to bars while my wife thought I was living as I had promised her, as a sober man.Martin's narrative of his own battle also considers the dominant theories of alcoholism (the possession theory; the tragic theory) and treatments for it, including a new treatment - some hail it as a magic bullet - the drug baclofen. Martin's description of his conflicted feelings about Alcoholics Anonymous are particularly interesting, but it is the unsparing account of his own drinking that haunts me.See also: Garth's recent review of Martin's novel, How To Sell. michael kors outlet| toms outlet | cheap ray ban sunglasses | coach outlet | ray ban wayfarer | coach factory outlet
This week's New Yorker is already on newsstands, but before last week's issue is a distant memory, I wanted to praise it for being one of the best issues I've read in a while. Calvin Trillin's piece on an episode of vigilante justice in Canada was engaging and well reported and David Owen's profile of the Arup structural engineering firm was an interesting departure from the magazine's usual coverage of cultural luminaries in the architecture field (neither article is available online.)The issue was anchored by Seymour Hersh's most important article since he helped break the Abu Ghraib story in 2004. In this follow up, Hersh delivers compelling evidence that responsibility for Abu Ghraib goes well beyond the handful of soldiers who were said to have acted on their own.But what really capped off the issue for me was Helen Simpson's refreshing story "Homework," which had a startlingly different tone from the typical New Yorker short story. Instead of brooding and cereberal, the story is almost joyful from start to finish, augmented by a wry undercurrent of second meaning. Whereas many contemporary stories are played in a minor key, thriving on disfunction, "Homework" is built on a healthy relationship between mother and son as she helps him complete an assignment to describe a "life-changing event." Rolling her eyes at the silly assignment, the first person narrator mother dictates a made up life to her son, one that includes divorced parents and in particular a globe trotting, carefree mother. There are a few subtexts below the surface as she crafts the story for her son: her own difficult childhood, her desire for a more exciting, less domestic life. But the story is also about imagination and being a kid. I thoroughly enjoyed it.I hadn't read Simpson's work before, but I'll keep an eye out for it now. She's penned several short story collections over the years, including In the Driver's Seat, which came out last month.
1. Collaborating with another writer is something I've done only once. It was for a Washington Post Magazine cover article about the stock car racing legend Richard Petty, who was making his first run for political office in the fall of 1978. At the time I was working as a newspaper reporter in Greensboro, N.C., and after work I would drive the 22 miles to Petty's home with one of the paper's editorial writers, and we would spend the late afternoons talking with Petty as he drove his customized van along the back roads of Randolph County. Petty was always dressed in his trademark cowboy hat, cowboy boots and wraparound shades as he knocked on doors, flashed his famous thousand-watt smile and urged people to help elect him to the board of county commissioners. Naturally, Petty lapped the field. When it came time to write the article, my collaborator gave me his notes and disappeared. This delighted me. I was free to sit alone in my room using his notes and my own to write a draft of the article as I thought it should be written. My collaborator then made suggestions, some of which I heeded, most of which I ignored. The article appeared under both of our bylines, with mine before his, an arrangement that struck me as more than a little unfair. We also split the $750 paycheck down the middle, which struck me as enormously unfair. Afterwards I felt like the character Nelson Head in the Flannery O'Connor short story, "The Artificial Nigger," a young yokel who survives a harrowing visit to the big city of Atlanta and vows never to return. To paraphrase Nelson, my feelings about collaborating with another writer were I'm glad I did it once, but I'll never do it again. 2. My vow has remained intact for more than 30 years, but I recently learned about a group called NeuWrite that has forced me to reconsider my abiding disdain for the art of collaborative writing. The group began to take shape back in 2007 because a Columbia University neuroscience grad student named Carl Schoonover had arrived at a blunt realization. "Lots of interesting neuroscience research gets reported badly," he says. "And most scientists can't write for shit, myself included, because they don't teach you how to write in science grad school. The trick was to find writers." So after discussing the idea with his colleagues, Schoonover persuaded Stuart Firestein, the chairman of Columbia's biology deparment, to introduce him to Ben Marcus, who heads the university's Master of Fine Arts program in non-fiction writing. Marcus offered the names of half a dozen of his students who might be interested in collaborating with neuroscience grad students, and Schoonover took each of them to The Hungarian Pastry Shop near campus to pitch his idea. In early 2008, the group came together for the first time at an informal salon in the home of Firestein and his wife Diana Reiss, a psychology professor at Hunter College. "I think you need to develop trust for it work," Schoonover says. "We scientists are accustomed to collaboration. It's built into the scientific process. But the writers were very reticent, especially at first." As the members became more familiar and comfortable with each other, scientists started pairing up with writers and working together. Eventually the salon atmosphere of the meetings gave way to a classic MFA workshop format – members would bring in a piece of their own writing for the group to discuss; established science writers would be invited to speak; the group would read and discuss examples of high quality science writing. Schoonover wound up pairing with Abigail Rabinowitz, 32, who has since gotten her MFA and gone to India on a Fulbright grant to study surrogate motherhood in Mumbai. Rabinowitz had wanted to be a scientist when she was growing up, and the announcement that NeuWrite was forming in early 2008 caught her eye. "I wanted to find my way back to science through writing," she says, "and I thought this would be a great way to look at writing from a different perspective and possibly find new stories." Schoonover and Rabinowitz's first collaboration was on an article for Science magazine about a show at the American Museum of Natural History called "Brain: The Inside Story". "First, we heard the museum's directors speak about how they'd planned the show," Rabinowitz recalls. "Then Carl and I walked through the show together and shared impressions. If I wasn't sure about something, he explained it to me. Our impressions were very similar, even though we were coming from different backgrounds. We both felt the show wasn't organized visually as well as it could have been." Next came the hard part. "So we sat down together with a computer," Rabinowitz continues. "We both had a lot of notes, and we outlined the piece together. I had a vision for the introduction when you walk into a kind of spaghetti forest that represents the brain. Carl also thought it was a good way into the piece. Then we moved through the show, and that became the article's structure. I typed while we were both speaking – not trying to hone language, just trying to get basic ideas in order. Then I wrote the first draft until the halfway point and e-mailed the draft to Carl, who then edited what I'd written – not structure, but word choice and one factual error and some added information. Then he wrote the second half. He sent it back to me and I edited what he'd written. We both killed the other's darlings." More and more refined drafts went back and forth a half dozen times. Changes were tracked on each draft, and the collaborators spoke frequently by phone. The finished product possesses two things you don't always find in science writing: accurate, easily comprehensible information related in a style that's brisk and clear. The pair's next collaboration was an article for the New York Times about the emerging field of optogenetics, which uses flashes of light to control electrical activity in specially engineered neurons. The technique is beginning to yield insight into such human disorders as Parkinson's disease and anxiety. Rabinowitz now feels that collaboration, though painful, is worth the trouble. "Ultimately I think it produced better writing than I could have done myself," she says. "Carl knows what he's talking about. If he liked something I wrote, I got the joy of recognition. But it can be frustrating too. I wouldn't want to write this way with most people I know, because it's hard and there has to be a good reason to do it. If you're writing with somebody else, you need to communicate very well." For Greg Wayne, a grad student in theoretical neuroscience and a member of NeuWrite, this hasn't been his first exposure to collaborative writing. Wayne and his brother, a novelist, had worked together on humor sketches, a form that's "incredibly amenable" to collaboration, he says. "With humor, there's a joke every line, and that can be edited immediately. Is this funny? Does that work? But if you have long, discursive writing, sitting at the same keyboard is much more difficult. I think novel writing would be just about impossible." Wayne collaborated with the writer Alex Pasternack on an article for Science magazine about a panel on artificial intelligence at the World Science Festival – replete with robot demonstrations, including Watson, the "Jeopardy!" champion. The experience left Wayne convinced that there are times when two minds can produce better science writing than one. "For the article we divided up responsibility based on what we know best," Wayne says. "Alex, as a writer, was going to look at social issues, how the public views artificial intelligence, how people think about a Stanley Kubrick sci-fi movie. As a scientist I would focus on the nuts and bolts of how the robots work. In the end, neither one of us alone would have been capable of writing what we wrote together." 3. Tim Requarth studied Spanish literature as an undergrad and wrote a book about his father's dementia before entering Columbia's neuroscience program. Requarth, who recently wrote a review here at The Millions of the neuroscientist David Eagleman's best-seller, Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain, teamed up with Schoonover to help run NeuWrite. "I was a logical person to step in because I've had a foot in both words – science and writing," says Requarth, who has collaborated on articles for Science and Scientific American with Meehan Crist, who has just finished writing a book called Everything After, about traumatic brain injury. "One thing we've all discovered is that it works better if one person writes the first draft. Meehan and I discuss the ideas and arrive at a sketch, details to include, how to start. Then I sit down and write. Then Meehan does a first-pass edit, and we pass it back and forth until we're both happy with it. When someone reads your rough draft, it's like letting them see you half-dressed. It's about arriving at a level of intellectual comfort – or having faith in the process. In a successful collaboration, both people feel like they did less than half the work." Requarth is now working to start a second NeuWrite group that will branch beyond the neuroscience field and beyond the Columbia campus. He's recruiting students from other science disciplines at NYU and CUNY, as well as journalists. Another group is beginning to form in Boston. Schoonover is optimistic that the group's tenets will spread. "We're trying to make the argument to science editors that the best way to guarantee accuracy and avoid hype is by having a scientist involved in every step of the crafting of articles," he says. "Once we show that this collaboration between writers and scientists works with NeuWrite, we'd love to see it become routine. We're sowing the seeds for expansion." (Image: Christmas DNA from pagedooley's photostream)
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