I would like to nominate Sam Anderson’s riff on Roland Barthes’s Mythologies for the best lede ever. I would also like to order a tee shirt for a faux boy band composed of Lacan, Derrida, Barthes and Foucault.
From the book I'm reading right now: "My mother's output, starred and pseudonymous, appeared regularly in one of those little, irregular periodicals so limited in readership that they might be called incestuous. Subscription was by invitation only, and contributors would go into a rage over a misplaced comma and brood for days if their poems were understood."
Lit-mag Meanjin Quarterly is taking a cue from The Millions and kicking off a new series, The Best Australian Fiction of the 21st Century (so far).