Do people enjoy writers like Pynchon and Nabokov in part because they’re so odd? A new paper suggests that we tend to like art when we believe its creator is eccentric. The Atlantic reads through a study that’s a bit of a strange one.
“Some psychiatrists say that music has therapeutic powers and can even restore fluidity and mental structure for a moment in some patients – music is the opposite of chaos. It may be that heavy metal, the music his parents blamed in part for this entire catastrophe, is the only thing that gives order to my cousin’s worn-out brain. No one knows, except him.” On trying to seek refuge from schizophrenia in heavy metal.
Try to define the word “poetry” and you’ll quickly find yourself in a maze of contradictions. It refers, most obviously, to printed verse, but it can also refer to especially lyrical prose, among other things. At The Paris Review Daily, Damian Searls uses etymology to get some answers. Related: Kate Angus on loving poetry but not poetry books.
We’ve all heard stories about fans who root through the trash of Hollywood celebrities. But what about those rare birds who root through the trash of famous authors? Herewith, Adrienne LaFrance relates the story of Paul Moran, a Salem, MA resident who picked through John Updike’s garbage. It’s probably a good time to read our review of Adam Begley’s biography of Updike.
It’s not every day that you come across a defense of literary elitism, but The Guardian's Nicholas Lezard is tired of explaining that not everyone is a critic. "What I want when I read a book review is to find out what someone cleverer than me and better read than me thinks about whatever's being reviewed," he writes.