The University of Texas, Austin, is opening its acquired manuscripts of David Foster Wallace’s private papers, books, stories, and essays to the public. Previews of Wallace’s marked-up copies of books by DeLillo, Borges, and Updike are available on its website. (via New York Times)
In the past ten years, we've seen many attempts to construct a taxonomy of the hipster, which is why it’s refreshing to come across a novel account of the term’s origins. At The Atlantic, Karen Swallow Prior makes a convincing case that T.S. Eliot, in The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, invented the “cuffed-trouser urbanite on the hunt for authenticity.”
"Jo Freeman, a feminist writer and activist who worked with Firestone from the beginning, said at the memorial, 'When I think back on Shulie’s contribution to the movement, I think of her as a shooting star. She flashed brightly across the midnight sky, and then she disappeared.'" At The New Yorker, Susan Faludi writes on the legacy of Shulamith Firestone.
It's a bumper crop of new books this week: Hari Kunzru's Gods Without Men, Kathryn Harrison's Enchantements, László Krasznahorkai's Satantango (reviewed here), and Adam Levin's Hot Pink. Also out this week are Alain de Botton's Religion for Athiests and Jonathan Safran Foer and Nathan Englander's New American Haggadah.
In her Shelf Awareness interview, Hilary Mantel admits that Wolf Hall, her recently released Bring Up the Bodies, and the trilogy’s forthcoming conclusion were originally conceived to be one book. That they kept expanding, she says, is “the torment and joy of writing fiction.” Meanwhile, over at The Daily Beast, the English author rounds up her five favorite historical fictions.
Patrick Bateman as internet troll? I could see it. Bret Easton Ellis, author of American Psycho, stopped by Town and Country to muse over how an early-twentieth century Patrick Bateman might behave a bit differently: "I check in with Patrick every now and then—as with this article you're reading—but he has been living his own life for some time now, and I rarely feel as if I have guardianship over him, or any right to tell him where he would or would not be today, decades after his birth."