In this week’s New Yorker, James Wood critiques Paul Auster, while his sometime-subject Don DeLillo offers refreshingly offbeat short fiction.
Goodies from The New Yorker
Brooklyn Was Mine
Paula Fox‘s ostensible review of L.J. Davis‘ A Meaningful Life in the current New York Review of Books is really (pace N1BR) a transporting memoir of Brooklyn in the ’70s.
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Outrage
Barry Ritholtz, the godfather of financial blogging (and not your typical Occupy Wall Street protester) calls the U.S. a “corporate monarchy” and wonders “Why have the Europeans figured out they are getting screwed, and we haven’t?“
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Slightly Off
Expats of all stripes have trouble defining the word “home,” which is true even when the expat is someone like James Wood, who left England for America in the ‘90s and set up a life for himself in Massachusetts. In the LRB, he describes the odd pain of emigration, lamenting that his “English reality” has faded into memory. (You could also read Charles Finch on trying to live up to Wood’s standards.)
Next Step: Skynet Becomes Self-Aware
James Harriman-Smith wants to know what humans can learn from a computer’s reading of Shakespeare’s plays. As it turns out, there’s quite a bit.
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The Science of Poetry
Recommended Listening: David Naimon interviews Ursula K. Le Guin about her latest poetry collection, Late in the Day. Pair with Paul Morton’s Millions interview with the author.
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