I finally read Leslie Jamison’s “The Cult of the Literary Sad Woman,” in which she argues, unexpectedly, that pleasure and happiness are as legitimate as literary subjects as pain and sadness. I hope it is read by every publisher who puts out memoirs.
The Miami Book Fair has begun with its Author Evenings, which I rarely attend, as they often feature celebrities masquerading as writers. (I made an exception one year for Saul Bellow, who at a certain point in his life became the reverse) This year’s lineup includes Samantha Powers, George Will, Debbie Harry, John Waters, and Mo Rocca. I’m vaguely tempted to go tonight to hear Rocca so I can ask him if he felt a twinge of uneasiness a few weeks back when he turned his CBS Sunday Morning report on newspaper obituary writers into an advertisement for his new book.
Another uplifting New York Times Book Review Sunday. On the cover, where every week I hope to find Paul Theroux’s new travel book about Mexico, was an essay, “The Cult of the Literary Sad Woman.” Inside were reviews of three memoirs, one about “a troubled youth,” one about “a dying husband’s troubled legacy” (I see a theme), and one in which “a rape survivor seeks answers to her trauma.” These were followed by a review of a collection of essays by a woman who “sees gradual loss in all around us.” And I wonder: Is the Book Review accurately reflecting the range of books being published - if so, it's an excessively narrow range - or its editors' dyspeptic view of the world?
The email from Barnes & Noble read: “Signed Editions Are Here! … From Favorite Authors including Demi Moore, Ali Wong, & Jonathan Van Ness.” And I thought: Favorite? I didn’t even know they were authors.
One of the most entertaining books I’ve read this year – OK, the most entertaining book I’ve read this year (what happened to humor in America?) – is Ben Aitken’s A Chip Shop in Poznan: My Unlikely Year in Poland. As the title suggests, Aitken is English and a lover of the unobvious. You could say he’s following in the footsteps of all those British writers who lived abroad – Freya Stark, Gerald Brenan, Lawrence Durrell – and immersed themselves in foreign cultures. But he isn’t, really. He’s much more amusing than they were, while still being insightful, and showering unromanticized affection on the people he’s describing. His is an original, honest, irreverent voice, and his book is a fine addition to the short stack of books that try to explain Poland and the Poles to the English-speaking world. It, and the audiobook, were released yesterday here in the U.S., and I kinda wish, to help it along, our president had involved Poland instead of Ukraine in his villainy.
Drove to Books & Books Saturday for the launch of Making Good Time: True Stories of How We Do, and Don’t, Get Around in South Florida (editor Lynne Barrett). Then drove back yesterday to hear Lyn Millner present her excellent history of the Koreshans, The Allure of Immortality.
Returning home I read in the anthology, and was surprised to find no stories about driving to Books & Books.