At Flavorwire Jonathan Sturgeon considers what we’ve learned from Dubliners in the hundred years since it was first published and argues that “when it comes to realism, Dubliners, more than even Chekhov’s short fiction, is the model we routinely fail to live up to.” Sturgeon’s reflections on Joyce‘s free indirect discourse pair well with Jonathan Russell Clark‘s Millions essay on close writing, and his essay isn’t completely without hope: he concludes with a few books that, “on the surface, look nothing like Dubliners, but, in spirit… show that Joyce’s book still lives 100 years on.”
Dubliners, 100 Years Later
Call It Humanistic Indecency”
Recommended Reading: Katy Waldman on Jenny Zhang’s Sour Heart.
Lavisium
Lord Byron is perhaps our most prominent example of an extravagant writer in a bygone age. There’s a reason his antics earned him a popular adjective. However, he’s not the only writer from long ago to live large, as made clear in this New Yorker piece by Elizabeth Kolbert — inspired by the release of two new biographies — that deals with the up-and-down life and reputation of Seneca. Sample quote: “Seneca’s fortune made possible a life style that was lavish by Roman or, for that matter, Hollywood standards.”
O’Connell on Shields
Our own Mark O’Connell has reviewed How Literature Saved My Life by David Shields in this week’s New York Times Book Review. “When you read David Shields, the first thing you learn is that he takes literature very seriously.”
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Amitava Kumar, Collector of Writerly Advice Distilled Into One Line
For years, Amitava Kumar has asked writers to sign copies of their books and add a line of valuable advice, "as a glimpse into that particular writer’s mind."
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What Would Atticus Do?
Harper Lee is suing her literary agent over royalties for To Kill A Mockingbird.
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Language, the Savior
At The Guardian, Jhumpa Lahiri recounts the path that led her to write her latest book in Italian, one of the most anticipated books of 2016. As she puts it, “A week after arriving [in Rome], I open my diary to describe our misadventures and I do something strange, unexpected. I write my diary in Italian. I do it almost automatically, spontaneously. I do it because when I take the pen in my hand I no longer hear English in my brain. During this period when everything confuses me, everything unsettles me, I change the language I write in.”
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