Gertrude Stein once said of Oakland that “There’s no ‘there’ there.” If the latest novel by Michael Chabon, Telegraph Avenue, is any indication, not everyone agrees — the author set the book in the Oakland of 2004. At The New Yorker’s Page-Turner blog, Matt Feeney delves into the book’s racial politics.
Apparently There is a “There” There
Writing for Tumblr
On Friday, Tumblr rolled out its new “highlighted post” feature. The move is a new way to monetize the site’s content, but it’s not the only new initiative taken up by the site. As of last week, two writers have been hired by the Tumblr staff to document, well, Tumblr. (And speaking of all of this, you should totally check out my list of the best literary Tumblrs.)
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Summer Oysters
You’re only supposed to consume oysters in months with the letter “r” in their English (and French) names. This is because oysters in the Northern hemisphere are more likely to spoil during the warmer months of May, June, July, and August. So if you can’t eat ‘em, you might as well hear about ‘em instead, right? Presenting this video of Seamus Heaney reading his poem, “Oysters” (Text here).
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Poet Cops
“The worlds of poetry and law enforcement would seem to share little. But a few poet cops hope to change that perception, one line at a time.”
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The Forgotten Forty
In a sea of Best Book lists, LitHub spoke to 40 booksellers about the most overlooked titles of 2017. On the list? Emil Ferris’s My Favorite Thing Is Monsters, which was featured in Emily St. John Mandel‘s Year in Reading.
Crossed Lines
In the latest issue of the LRB, Jenny Diski comes to the defense of Liz Jones, a Daily Mail columnist and spiritual sibling to the far-too-beautiful-to-live Samantha Brick. Her takeaway after reading a column that got Jones into hot water? Diski “couldn’t see” what the pilloried writer had done wrong.
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Tuesday New Release Day: Johnson, Auslander
New books this week: Adam Johnson’s much talked-about novel The Orphan Master’s Son, Shalom Auslander’s first novel and Hope: A Tragedy.
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Guess it was too much trouble for the New Yorker to get an actual black person to write that piece.