Anonymous strikes again: On January 25th, the entity that brought us 1996’s deliciously scandalous Primary Colors: A Novel of Politics, offers a roman à clef for the Obama age: O: A Presidential Novel. Then it was Joe Klein, but this Anon. is still Anon. Perhaps better than the insider gossip: The media-fueled whodunit the novel’s sure to inspire.
Primary Colors for the Age of Obama
Our Unhappy Marriage Will Be Revived in Paris
“I Have Inherited The Ancestral Home, But It Is Now A Burden Rather Than A Gift, Which Reminds Me Of Another Burden…The Institution Of Marriage” and every other Modernist novel ever written, via Mallory Ortberg of The Toast.
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Across the Screen
“His books are not only obviously produced by an obsessive film buff (as evidenced by one wry recurring trick, the dates in brackets that follow even citations of celluloid ephemera), they often seem to want to be movies, as shown by another signature device, the way his protagonists – from the 1890s European spies and 1950s New Yorkers in the interwoven narratives of his debut, V. in 1963, all the way to Inherent Vice and Bleeding Edge in 2013 – break anti-naturalistically into song like characters in musicals.” An argument that Thomas Pynchon writes fiction tailor-made for the cinema.
“It was a strange choice to decide to pass as a Russian.”
You can read the first twenty pages of Karolina Waclawiak’s How To Get Into the Twin Palms – and if that hasn’t sold you yet, know this: this excerpt has some sexy stuff in it.
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This post seems to (inadvertently) suggest that these novels have the same author, which is almost certainly not the case.