Following a recent essay on the value of ambivalence, our own Mark O’Connell explores the nature of confidence in this week’s New York Times Magazine. Perhaps not surprisingly, he writes that this year’s Web Summit convinced him that tech moguls are congenitally more confident than writers.
Should We Even Publish This?
Return to Sender
"A woman I did not know called me to help her with something I have always loved to do: write. Certainly it was fate, my involvement destined to be a seed for a fairy tale ending, I thought. I was wrong," Scott Saalman writes about the moral challenges of agreeing to help someone with their writing at The Morning News.
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Beholden Like Us
It may comfort you to know that Susan Orlean claims to have “a sad dependence” on her iPhone. The New Yorker staff writer, who published an article (paywall) on the Twitter account Horse_ebooks this week, tells Bobby Finger that she had to buy a new battery case because she ran through the charge on her phone by the middle of the day.
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Primary Colors for the Age of Obama
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.
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Our Correspondent
As a poet, historian, critic, translator and editor of The New Republic, Malcolm Cowley was a genuine literary polymath, which is why it’s not surprising that he wrote eloquent letters. In one, for example, he described Larry McMurtry, who Cowley taught when McMurtry was a Stegner Fellow at Stanford, as a “wild young man from Texas, expert in pornography.” In the Times, Dwight Garner reviews The Long Voyage, a new collection of Cowley’s letters.
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Garrets Etc.
Most writers, unless they’re lucky enough to have an ideal place in which to work, make do with the best space available. For Colum McCann’s father, the shed in his backyard, which “always smelled damp inside, as if the rain rose up out of the carpet,” sufficed for the fiction he wrote after coming home from work. At Page-Turner, the National Book Award winner and Year in Reading alum remembers his father’s retreat.
The Cosmonaut
Conrad Aiken's tombstone reads: "Cosmos Mariner — Destination Unknown." Which raises the question: what exactly does this epitaph say about the poet's work? In the LA Times, an argument that Aiken deserves a reappraisal.
Tuesday New Release Day: Harkaway, Nescio, Lehrer, Kerouac, Galassi
New this week are Nick Harkaway's Angelmaker (reviewed here), Nescio's Amsterdam Stories (reviewed here), Jonah Lehrer's Imagine: How Creativity Works, Jack Kerouac's "lost novel" The Sea is My Brother, and a new collection of poetry from Jonathan Galassi, Left-Handed.
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From Mr. O’Connell’s article:
“I saw a keen absurdity in these barons of techno-capital, with their passionately held clichés and their cheerful belief in their personal capacity to change the world,”
That’s the best phrase I’ve read for ages! Perhaps a compromise is in order, a bit less self doubt for Mr. O’Connell and his wry, on-the-spot observations, and a bit more for the tech moguls, given their habit of foisting bug-ridden, not-ready-for-market software programs on the unsuspecting public!
Moe Murph
Dreading Next Microsoft Office Suite Upgrade