Friday, April 18, 2014

Books: poet C.K. Williams turns to prose in All at Once

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“It is probably not fair to compare C. K. Williams’ prose in All at Once with his award winning verse poetry books, but it does offer poetry averse readers an opportunity to engage with a perceptive and empathic wordsmith whose work they otherwise would not encounter.” —From my NYJB book review.  Read that review first. Additional remarks that appeared in a different and now defunct publication begin with the next paragraph.

Books: In All at Once poet C.K. Williams turns to prose

More than two decades ago a creative writing grad school classmate related how a prospective employer told her she would not get the publishing job for which she had applied, because "poets can't write prose." If prose memoirs by poets such as Mary Karr had not already disproved that canard, All at Once, poet C.K Williams' new book of short prose pieces, surely would.

During the middle decades of Williams' poetic oeuvre he used very long lines, lines so long that perhaps it's not that much of a stretch for him to dispense with line breaks entirely in All at Once and switch to prose (after all, novelistDavid Albahari has shown that paragraph breaks are also dispensable). On the other hand, it might be an interesting creative writing exercise to put line breaks into Williams' prose in All at Once.

There is no consensus on what defines or how to write a prose poem, nor on whether to emphasize the prose or the poetry. In the 19th Century French symbolist poets wrote poetic prose pieces featuring a lyrical voice and poetic imagery. That approach was also favored by the late American writer Carol Novack, the founder of Mad Hatters Review. OTOH, prose poets such as Phyllis Koestenbaummake the prose in her prose poems as prosy as possible. Williams uses both approaches in the varied pieces that comprise All at Once, some of which seem more like essays.

In my New York Journal of Books review of All at Once I write, "It is probably not fair to compare C. K. Williams’ prose inAll at Once with his award winning verse poetry books, but it does offer poetry averse readers an opportunity to engage with a perceptive and empathic wordsmith whose work they otherwise would not encounter." See that review for a fuller discussion of the book.
ImageC.K. Williams

Monday, April 7, 2014

Books: in David Grand's Mount Terminus both protagonist and Los Angeles come of age

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 "David Grand’s third novel, Mount Terminus, is written in luscious, erudite prose so dense his readers have no choice but to read it slowly." 
-- from my review of Mount Terminus by David Grand on New York Journal of Books. Additional remarks that appeared in a different and now defunct publication begin with the next paragraph.

Books: in Mount Terminus both protagonist and Los Angeles come of age

From the time this country annexed what was then northern Mexico in 1848 New Yorkers have been moving to California to start their lives anew. In David Grand's third novel Mount Terminus (published last month by New York based publisher Farrar, Straus and Giroux) a father and son move from New York to the outskirts of Los Angeles, and the boy nicknamed "Bloom" and his new home come of age in the movie business in the first decades of the Twentieth Century.

In my New York Journal of Books Review I describe Mr. Grand's novel as "written in luscious, erudite prose so dense his readers have no choice but to read it slowly." I recommend the book but only to sophisticated readers; as I read the novel I kept a Wikipedia app handy to look up cultural references.

I first became aware of Mount Terminus when I read an excerpt in Tablet Magazine. But as the novel progresses there is less and less Jewish content, perhaps accurately reflecting a process of assimilation. For a fuller discussion of the book read my NYJB review.
ImageDavid Grand

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

David Grossman conveys parental bereavement in Falling Out of Time

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“As moving as are each of these expressions of grief the cumulative effect of Falling Out of Time‘s nearly 200 pages is even more powerful. It certainly conveys bereaved parents’ pain to readers who have not suffered that loss and may help some mourning parents work through their grief, though others may feel it reopens emotional wounds.” -- from my New York Journal of Books review of David Grossman's new multi-genre book. Additional remarks that appeared in a different and now defunct publication begin with the next paragraph.

Israeli books: David Grossman describes losing a child in Falling Out of Time

For most of human history and pre-history childhood mortality was a fact of life, and couples had many children in the hope that at least some of them would live long enough to become adults. As recently as the Nineteenth Century many if not most adults survived the loss of one or more siblings who had succumbed to childhood illnesses, and parents losing children to those illnesses was quite common. The desire to reconnect with lost loved ones made surviving relatives vulnerable to charlatans posing as spiritualists.

Only since the Twentieth Century has medical science advanced to the point where parents could realistically expect all their children to reach adulthood, an expectation that has resulted in parents choosing to have fewer children and which perhaps makes the loss of a child all the more painful. It is that particularly poignant pain that Israeli writer David Grossman (one of whose sons died in combat in Israel's 2006 war against Hezbollah) captures in his new book Falling Out of Time which will be published tomorrow by New York based publisher Knopf.

Part poetry, part prose, and part play, the characters in Falling Out of Time address their dead children and share their grief with one another. In my New York Journal of Books review of the book I write:

“As moving as are each of these expressions of grief the cumulative effect of Falling Out of Time‘s nearly 200 pages is even more powerful. It certainly conveys bereaved parents’ pain to readers who have not suffered that loss and may help some mourning parents work through their grief, though others may feel it reopens emotional wounds.”

For a fuller discussion of the book see my NYJB review.
Image David Grossman

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Jewish books: Ellen Litman's Mannequin Girl describes childhood in 1980s Moscow

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In my New York Journal of Books review I describe Ellen Litman's second novel Mannequin Girl as “a welcome addition to the coming of age genre that will appeal both to adult readers and to precocious teenagers.” Also see my examiner article about this novel set in 1980s Moscow, which begins with the next paragraph.

Jewish books: Ellen Litman's Mannequin Girl describes childhood in 1980s Moscow

To those of us who participated in rallies and other activities in the 1970s and 1980s on behalf of the right of Jews living in the Soviet Union to emigrate the complete lack of Jewish ritual observance in the family life of Kat Knopman and her parents Misha and Anechka in 1980s Moscow as depicted in Ellen Litman’s second novel Mannequin Girl (forthcoming from W.W. Norton in the middle of next month) will come as no surprise. Kat has a physical disability and attends a school for children with her condition, and amid increasing anti-Semitism during the USSR’s final years her Jewishness also becomes a disadvantage.

What is surprising is how normal Kat’s childhood seems despite her disability and the novel’s setting. Some aspects of childhood—friendships, rivalries, and being both the victim and perpetrator of malicious behavior—are more or less the same in most countries.

I related to Kat on a personal level, because like her I am the child of intellectual parents, and during my childhood and young adulthood I too felt the burden of being expected to realize my potential.

In my New York Journal of Books review I describe Mannequin Girl as “a welcome addition to the coming of age genre that will appeal both to adult readers and to precocious teenagers.”ImageEllen Litman

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Books: E.L. Doctorow's novel Andrew's Brain explores a brain scientist's mind

Image In my New York Journal of Books review I describe E.L. Doctorow's new novel as “an enjoyable page turner” that is “both bittersweet and disturbing.” Additional remarks that appeared in a different and now defunct publication begin with the next paragraph.

Books: E.L. Doctorow's novel Andrew's Brain explores a brain scientist's mind

Last Tuesday, April 14, 2014, New York publisher Random House published Andrew’s Brain, the new novel by multiple award winning writer E.L.Doctorow whose writing and publishing career spans half a century. In my New York Journal of Books review I note that Andrew’s Brain has more in common with Doctorow’s short stories than with his novels.

Doctorow’s novels usually feature a large cast of characters with narratives reflecting multiple perspectives. Andrew’s Brain is more like a monologue in which the title character narrates his life story to a therapist. Andrew is a neuroscientist whose life work is studying how the brain creates the mind. In the novel he explores his own mind with his therapist.

The publication of the book is timely. Last spring President Obama announced the Brain Research through Advancing Innovative Neurotechnologies (BRAIN) Initiative, a federally funded project to begin in fiscal year 2014 to map the activity of every neuron in the human brain.

But readers hoping to learn something about neuroscience will be disappointed; the novel shows little evidence that Doctorow has devoted the kind of extensive background research to brain science as he did to the historical settings of his previous novels. Nonetheless Andrew’s Brain succeeds as a work of fiction which I describe in my NYJB review as “an enjoyable page turner” that is “both bittersweet and disturbing.” For a fuller discussion of the book read my NYJB review.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Book review | Leaving the Sea: Stories by Ben Marcus

In my NYJB review of Leaving the Sea by Ben Marcus I recommend the book "to serious readers who will want to reread its stories gaining new insights with each reading.” Additional remarks that appeared in a different and now defunct publication begin with the next paragraph.

Books: novelist Ben Marcus returns to the short story in Leaving the Sea

Future literary scholars may look back to the second decade of the Twenty-first Century as a silver age of the short story. The golden age would be the late Nineteenth through the middle of the Twentieth Century.

After that a writer's book of short stories became more often than not a journeyman’s apprenticeship on her way to becoming a novelist. Until recently writers like John Updike, who continued to publish in several genres over the decades, have been the exception.

Now more fiction writers alternate between the novel and the short story. Junot Diaz, for example, followed his debut novel with a second collection of short stories instead of with another novel. After four decades of novel writing Amos Oz returned to the short story in his last two fiction books. And last year the Nobel Prize in literature was awarded to Alice Munro who only writes short stories.

And now novelist Ben Marcus returns to the short story inLeaving the Sea, a book of short stories published today by New York publisher Knopf. Some of its 15 stories predate his most recent novel The Flame Alphabet and several share its dystopian theme. For a fuller discussion of Leaving the Seasee my New York Journal of Books review in which I recommend it to serious readers.