So much for my intrepidness. I still haven’t finished several of the books listed on January’s reading log. The Secret History of Lord Musashi (1935) by Tanizaki, for instance, nor Umberto Eco’s Mouse or Rat?, nor Baron von Munchausen. This month’s books were a breeze to read however. I really enjoyed Thomas Dolby’s memoir. Towards the end of the book he makes a claim that his Beatnik software synth, which ran on phones like Nokia’s, was the most widely heard synthesizer in history. I enjoyed the memoir very much.
Somewhat relatedly, last Sunday, I set up another blog where I’ll be posting occasionally on issues related to sound, music, and hearing: hyperaudiosensitive. Over the past year or two as I have been learning to play piano and also a bit about circuit-bending, I’ve been tempted to post thoughts on music and sound here but have mostly refrained. My reasoning is that most people who visit here do so because they are interested in books and literature, not music, sound, or audition considered as subjects in themselves.
Now, it seems a little ill-advised to begin a second blog when 1) there has always been frequent and strong overlap between my readings and my explorations of sound/music; and 2) my updates here are rather infrequent. (There’s a good chance now I’ll have not one but two rarely updated blogs!) Yet I couldn’t help but draw that imaginary line…
The Speed of Sound: Breaking the Barriers Between Music and Technology (2016) – Thomas Dolby
Music by the Numbers: From Pythagoras to Schoenberg (2018) – Eli Maor
I finally got back into the swing of things this month. For many months past I have been a disaffected and frustrated reader. I’m doing much better now, though still veeery scattered and far from where I want to be. A few of the books below I am still reading, one I skimmed, one I will not finish.
Baron Munchausen’s Narrative of his Marvellous Travels and Campaigns in Russia (1785) – Rudolf Erich Raspé (trans. ?)
The Secret History of Lord of Musashi (1935) – (trans. Anthony Chambers)
Chronicle of a Death Foretold (1981) – Gabriel Garcia Marquez (trans. Gregory Rabassa, 1982)
Mouse or Rat? Translation as Negotiation (2003) – Umberto Eco
Days and Nights in W12 (2011) – Charles Boyle/Jack Robinson
John Lyly and Early Modern Authorship (2014) – Andy Kesson
Kubrick Red (2014) – Simon Roy (trans. Jacob Homel, 2018)
Chameleo: A Strange but True of Invisible Spies, Heroin Addiction, and Homeland Security (2015) – Robert Guffey
Paperbacks from Hell: The Twisted History of ’70s and ’80s Horror Fiction (2017) – Grady Hendrix
Applied Ballardianism: Memoir from a Parallel Universe (2018) – Simon Sellars
– Literature –
McTeague (1899) – Frank Norris
Beneath the Underdog (1971) – Charles Mingus
Travesty (1976), Whistlejacket (1988) – John Hawkes
U & I (1991), The Anthologist (2009), Travelling Sprinkler (2013) – Nicholson Baker
Robinson (2016) – Jack Robinson
Belfie Hell (2018) – Shane Jesse Christmass
Les artistes (2017) – Clément de Gaulejac
– Music and Sound –
Circuit-Bending: Build Your Own Alien Instruments (2005) – Reed Ghazala
Let’s Talk About Love: A Journey to the End of Taste (2007) – Carl Wilson (in the Continuum 33 ⅓ series)
Handmade Electronic Music: The Art of Hardware Hacking, 2nd edition (2009) – Nicolas Collins
The Science of Musical Sound (1983) – John R. Pierce
Incidentally, all the books on the list are (I think) written by men. I know I’m forgetting some books. My Teacher Fried My Brains. Last night my ten-year-old devoured A Christmas Story. I must be doing something right. In the category of “literature” above it looks like I’ve been reading mostly American authors. As you can see I got interested in circuit-bending and I bent many things. More about that later perhaps, I have toyed with the idea of starting a different blog to document some of my adventures in circuit-bending. I am supposed to be writing a review of Belfie Hell but my notes have vexed me. What a troublesome, annoying book. I think Belfie Hell is, like its main typeface, calculated to read “like shit.” The scenic repetitions of the book’s first 100 pages are maddening. The scenic repetitions of the book’s second 100 pages are maddening. The scenic repetitions of the book’s third 100 pages are maddening. Invariably it is Shia LeBoeuef taking some drug or other, passed out on the floor or at the window in extremis while the “pig cops” run back and forth in the street, or “the underage guy James Franco fucked” does some inane task. Mia Goth appears in every almost scene as a sort of amoral demigod, a tabloid queen. Mia Goth does some pretty fucked up shit in Belfie Hell — just off the top of my head I think she kills some people, maybe a decapitation, also is a trafficker of LSD. If I hadn’t promised to review Belfie Hell I do not think I would have read to the end, it is so challenging. I will have a little more to say about Belfie Hell after this.
Truth Is More Sacred: Exchanges on Modern Literature (1961) – Edward Dahlberg & Herbert Read
Reasons of the Heart: Maxims (1965) – Edward Dahlberg
The Edward Dahlberg Reader (1967)
The Confessions of Edward Dahlberg (1971)
The Wages of Expectation: The Biography of Edward Dahlberg (1979) – Charles Defanti
The Seventh Dragon: The Riddle of Equal Temperament (2nd ed, 2005) – Anita T. Sullivan
Electronic and Experimental Music: Technology, Music, and Culture (2008) – Thom Holmes
Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World (2016) – Cal Newport
too scattered to keep my vague resolutions to blog, but also I choose silence. Silence is a choice.
* * *
How to Sing (1880something) – Lilli Lehmann (trans. ?)
Truth Is More Sacred: Critical Exchanges on Modern Literature – Edward Dahlberg and Herbert Read
The Olive of Minerva or the Comedy of a Cuckold (1976) – Edward Dahlberg
The Confessions of Edward Dahlberg (1971)
Find You in the Dark (2018) – Nathan Ripley/Naben Ruthnum
thinking about Harry Mathews & Edward Dahlberg
what else? lots
By a long shot, Analog Days and Mad Skills were the most engrossing for me. I really enjoyed Gamelife as well. I continue to be more scattered than I would wish. I’m reading The Solitary Twin right now; over the years I have read most of Harry Mathews’s books with great pleasure. I’m obsessed with sound. And about five years after my first crash course in it, I’m enjoying thinking/reading about the history of (music, sound) technology and media studies. I play the piano, the synthesizer, a latecomer to them after having been a drummer/percussionist previously. I’m thinking also about Ed’s recent post at Biblioklept on how he wishes to be more prolific, less rigorous, and more casual in posting on his blog. Me too. I don’t think I would want to post here daily, as he vows to do, but this month I might try to write here a little more often in a less focused or prepared way. Might not always be about books. : )
* * *
some stories of Patricia Highsmith in Nothing That Meets the Eye
Analog Days: The Invention and Impact of the Moog Synthesizer (2002) – Trevor Pinch and Frank Trocco
An Ideal for Living (2006) – Eugene Thacker
Technological Slavery: The Collected Writings of Theodore “The Unabomber” Kaczynski (2010)
Ghosts of My Life: Writings on Depression, Hauntology, and Lost Futures (2013) – Mark Fisher
Gamelife: A Memoir (2015) – Michael J. Clune
The Unyielding (2017) – Gary J. Shipley
Le Plongeur (2017) – Stéphane Larue (in progress)
Calling a Wolf a Wolf (2017) – Kaveh Akbar
Mad Skills: MIDI and Music Technology in the Twentieth Century (2018) – Ryan Alexander Diduck
The Solitary Twin (2018) – Harry Mathews
February already. The New Year’s no longer so new. The two books in bold here blew me away. I’m preparing an interview with Yeager on Amygdalatropolis. All of these books are nonpareil and fantastic.
Beneath the Underdog (1971) – Charles Mingus
The Fifth Child (1988) – Doris Lessing
The Rest is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century (2007) – Alex Ross (begun)
Deliverance: Writings on Postal Relations (2014) – Marc Fischer
The New Analog: Listening and Reconnecting in a Digital World (2017) – Damon Krukowski
Amygdalatropolis (2017) – B.R. Yeager
Just a few titles coming out in 2018 that I’m looking forward to. Feel free to chime in in the comments or on Twitter if you want to contribute or bring my attention to another title. I trust that these are not the books that will be showing up on other people’s “most anticipated” lists. If they were, well, it wouldn’t even be worth my time to type this up, now would it?
The Sacred Conspiracy: Internal Correspondence of Acéphale and Lectures to the College of Sociology – Georges Bataille (January 2018, Atlas Press)
Georges Bataille long ago ceased to interest me, but I trust a few readers of this blog might have more than a modicum of curiosity about this book.
Clean Meat: How Growing Meat Without Animals Will Revolutionize Dinner and the World (January 2018) – Paul Shapiro (Gallery Books)
Lab-grown meat, animal-free meat, should be a topic of much interest to us nowadays. Who can tell what the future holds.
The Solitary Twin – Harry Mathews (March 27, 2018, New Directions)
Harry Mathews died just a year ago. I’ve read the bulk of his work with much pleasure. This is his last novel, described as “helical” in structure. Here’s the publisher’s description: John and Paul were also visitors to the town. They were twins, as identical as can be. They wore the same clothes, chino trousers and open-neck sweaters, in John’s case adorned with a faded maroon neckerchief. Both were addicted to the shellfish harvested year-round from the rocks and sands of the coast: little clams, winkles, cockles, crabs, and above all sea urchins–their dessert, as both said. They drank only McEwan’s India pale ale and smoked the same thin black Brazilian cigars… So begins the great writer Harry Mathews’s final novel, The Solitary Twin, a rollicking yet incredibly moving story of two young men who come to a picturesque beach town. Seen prismatically through the viewpoints of the town’s residents, they offer a variety of worldviews. Yet are they really twins or a single person?
Find You in the Dark – Nathan Ripley (March 2018, Simon & Schuster)
I went to grad school roughly around the same time Naben Ruthnum was there, and that’s how his work eventually became known to me. I always find his short fiction amazingly elliptical. For his first novel he’s using a nom de plume. Here’s the publisher’s description: “In this chilling debut thriller, in the vein of Dexter and The Talented Mr. Ripley, a family man obsessed with digging up the undiscovered remains of serial killer victims catches the attention of a murderer prowling the streets of Seattle. For years, he has been illegally buying police files on serial killers and studying them in depth, using them as guides to find missing bodies. He doesn’t take any souvenirs, just photos that he stores in an old laptop, and then he turns in the results to the police anonymously. Martin sees his work as a public service, a righting of wrongs that cops have continuously failed to do. Detective Sandra Whittal sees it differently. On a meteoric rise in police ranks due to her case-closing efficiency, Whittal is suspicious of the mysterious caller—the Finder, she names him—leading the police to the bodies. Even if the Finder isn’t the one leaving bodies behind, who’s to say that he won’t start soon?”
Questioning Minds: Volumes I and II: The Letters of Guy Davenport and Hugh Kenner (edited by Edward Burns, July 2018, Counterpoint)
These two volumes are going to list at $125 USD. Not very encouraging to me, despite my immense enthusiasm for both Kenner & Davenport. Oh well. Here’s the publisher’s description: Hugh Kenner (1923-2003) and Guy Davenport (1927-2005) first met in September 1953 when each gave a paper on Ezra Pound at Columbia University. They met again in the fall of 1957, and their correspondence begins with Kenner’s letter of March 7, 1958. In the next forty-four years, they exchanged over one thousand letters. Their correspondence about shared enthusiasm is a quarry for those interested in unique perspectives on Pound, Eliot, Joyce, Beckett, Basil Bunting, Charles Tomlinson, R. Buckminster Fuller, Stan Brakhage, Jonathan Williams, and the American modernists, William Carlos Williams, Marianne Moore, and Louis Zukofsky. The correspondence ends with Kenner’s letter of August 9, 2002 lamenting how they had drifted apart.
With his mentor, Marshall McLuhan, Kenner visited Pound at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital in Washington, in June 1948. Later he visited Pound in Venice and Rapallo. Davenport also was a visitor to St. Elizabeths, and, like Kenner, visited Pound in Italy. These letters record their fascination with Pound’s intellectual journey and explore how he translated the “brutality of fact” into The Cantos.
The extensive notes and cross-referencing of archival sources in Questioning Minds are a major contribution to the study of literary modernism. The letters contained within explore how new works were conceived and developed by both writers. They record faithfully, and with candor, the urgency that each brought to his intellectual and creative pursuits. Here is singular opportunity to follow the development of their unique fictions and essays.
Women and Men – Joseph McElroy (March 20 2018, dZanc)
McElroy’s futuristic, pun-filled masterpiece (1200 pages?!) will at last see a third edition. Contact dZanc in advance for a preorder if you want in; it’s going to be a limited pressing they say. Beautiful cover by McElroy’s spouse, artist Barbara Ellmann.
The Children’s Crusade – Marcel Schwob (March 2018, trans. Kit Schluter, Wakefield Press)
Thanks to translators Chris Clarke and Kit Schluter, Schwob’s work is seeing all new editions. I’ve more interest in this one and Imaginary Lives than Schwob’s other books for some reason. Can’t wait.
Three weeks back I tried to type up an end-of-the-year post as usual, summarizing my year in reading. No sooner had I written the essential of it, or at least drawn up the list of 7 or so titles, than I thought, what’s the use. I didn’t read very many extraordinary books this year. I will only mention three: Pope Joan (1866) by Emmanuel Royidis (trans. Lawrence Durrell), Amygdalatropolis (2017) by B.R. Yeager, and Angel in the Forest (1945) by Marguerite Young. I’ve written a little about all of them in various places. I trust curious readers can inform themselves whether or not those titles might suit their taste.
In 2017, not very much activity here at bibliomanic, as far as I can tell. I published 40 posts, 11 of which were monthly reading logs, 6 of which were just photos, while the rest were just tiny squibs, little jottings — nothing much of substance, then. A post with some basic information on Réjean Ducharme. And apart from translations and the introductions I’ve written introducing them, nothing much published elsewhere.
Here is the translation work, some with introductions:
- Véronique Côté and Steve Gagnon. “Dishes.” I Never Talk About It. Quebec Fiction, fall 2017.
- Pierre Senges. Paris Seen from the Centre. Podcast being produced by the Centre Pompidou, 2017-2018.
- Pierre Senges. Monster Rhapsody. Play for radio. Radio France, brochure. Spring 2017.
- Pierre Senges. Excerpts from Etudes de silhouettes. Hotel #3. Aug 2017.
- Pierre Senges. The Author Viewed from Below. Music & Literature #8. Fall 2017.
- Pierre Senges. Undertaking and Renunciation. Prodigal Lit Mag. May 2017.
- Pierre Senges. On the Electrophorus and the Tohu-Bohu. Gorse Journal #7. Jan 2017.
Apart from this translation work, in early 2018, I have a recently completed 10,000-word article on the life and work of Paul Metcalf being published in the annual Scribners American Writers supplement series. I’m very happy about that, though plagued in mind by the usual misgivings as to language, quality, coherence, and so on. I think it’s a very strong piece of writing but I can’t tell. It’s done at least. I’m not yet sure how widely available or easy to access it will be to interested parties, but that’s really none of my business.
I intended to review one book this year, Debths by Susan Howe, but I decided I don’t actually want to review it for a handful of reasons. Vexed maybe. And I remained this year a Twitter junky, despite my very ample misgivings. Could be part of my problem, though it also keeps me in touch with a few dozen like-minded aesthetes scattered across the globe, which I think is wondrous.
In terms of visitors, bibliomanic remained more or less the place it’s always been. Some of the top posts were as follows: the squib Jefferson’s Swivel Chair from years ago got 287 unique pageviews, Joseph McElroy’s bookshelf got 174 views, and Adopting Paul Metcalf got about 100 views. On the Major Refutation got 124 views, and A Pierre Senges miscellany got 94 views.
I’m grateful for the friendships and acquaintances I’ve made here and on Twitter. The world would be a lonelier place without you. May the New Year hold more of the same. Best wishes to you and yours, and hope to see you here more in 2018.
Domestic Manners of the Americans (1832) – Frances Trollope (Librivox free audiobook)
This is the great complement to de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America, likewise a panoramic account of life in America as observed by a foreigner. Only the foreigner in this instance is an upper-class English lady, fully prejudiced against the back country life she observes.
The Plains (1982) – Gerald Murnane
Couldn’t dig it, though I tried. Inland left me with a similar feeling of frustration, but that book had more fascinating imagery and the hint of drama.
Seven Controlled Vocabularies and Obituary 2004. The Joy of Cooking (2010) – Tan Lin
Until now I honestly thought Tan Lin and Tao Lin were the same author. I stand corrected.
Metamericana (2015) – Seth Abramson
Little bit disappointed by this.
Whereas (2017) – Long Soldier
I appreciate this. By now it’s been lauded in many of the more mainstream venues for criticism (NYT) and in award nominations, etc. Sure enough, that’s how it came onto my radar. As I saw someone tweet just now, “it’s amazing what an enormous PR budget can do for a book of poetry.” Many books of poetry of similar quality are doomed to obscurity, due to lack of publicity.
a few tales by Ambrose Bierce (circa 1880) & a few pieces by Max Beerbohm (circa 1910)
Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection () – Julie Kristeva (trans. )
Girty (1977) – Richard Taylor
The Alcoholic Republic: An American Tradition (1979) – W.J. Rorabaugh
Unoriginal Genius: Poetry by Other Means in the New Century (2010) – Marjorie Perloff (begun)
Uncreative Writing (2010??) – Kenneth Goldsmith
The Guy Davenport Reader (2013) (begun)
Tears We Cannot Stop: A Sermon to White America (2017) – Michael Eric Dydon
Pope Joan (1866) – Emmanuel Royilis (trans. Lawrence Durrell, 1954)
Cardinal Pölätüo (1961) – Stefan Themerson
Paul Metcalf again
Something Said: Essays (2001) – Gilbert Sorrentino
Neurotribes: Autism and the Future of Neurodiversity (2015) – Steve Silberman
Dated Emcees (2016) – Chinaka Hodge
It’s a paradoxical kind of longing, but I miss the days when I was able to plow through fat novels with nary a second thought about whether something else might sooner merit my attention. (I know, a very modern problem.) These days I read very few novels, let alone big fat ones. Pardon this lament; it’s not that I don’t have a score of tomes on my shelves that I want to get to.
With this in mind, since I am always making such calculations, I thought I’d jot down a list of my so-called TBR pile. I know my reading is so undisciplined that I’m not likely to read more than perhaps max three or four of these before the year is up. But we shall see.
Likewise, I would be curious what you have been meaning to get to but haven’t been able to, whether from distraction, lack of discipline, or want of time. Comments are open. And if you want to advocate for or against any of the books in the below list, I am all ears, and very susceptible to influence. I remain a most fickle reader.
Hadrian the Seventh (1900) – Fr. Rolfe (Baron Corvo)
Parents & Children (1941) – Ivy Compton-Burnett (not all that thick, I might get to this before the year is up!)
Independent People (1946) – Halldor Laxness (trans. J.A. Thompson)
A Meditation (1969) – Juan Benet (trans. Gregory Rabassa)
The Death of the Detective (1974) – Mark Smith
Lookout Cartridge (1974) – Joseph McElroy (I’ve read this once before circa 2010, but I’ve got to get back!)
The Great Fire of London (1989) – Jacques Roubaud (trans. Dominic di Bernardi)
Mason & Dixon (1997) – Thomas Pynchon
Annals of the Former World (1998) – John McPhee (not a novel, albeit, but hefty nonetheless)
A great month in reading, even if fairly scattershot. Here’s the rundown.
McGuffey’s Eclectic Progressive Speller (original edition, 1838; a glorious mock facsimile of the original presentation, published by Mott Media, 1980)
What a find! It was waiting for me at the Value Village on Cyrville Road, also with an edition of the Eclectic Second Reader. I had not an inkling that McGuffey was an Oxford, Ohio resident and professor at Miami University, at the time of his commission by a Cincinnati publisher. How Gertrude Stein would have loved this; she was probably raised on it out there in, what, Idaho?
Is There A Text in This Class?: The Authority of Interpretive Communities (1980) – Stanley Fish
I skimmed this one. I find Fish’s argument (being, as I understand it, 1) that literary texts can have no meaning apart from the assumptions which readers bring to them, 2) texts acquire their literary meanings only through the consensus-making process of a more or less authoritative interpretive community — i.e., scholars, academia, etc.) refreshing and important. To others it will be old hat, this being a so-called classic of literary criticism, much anthologized and much cited. But I had never read this before. It reminds me quite a lot of the work of Walter Benn Michaels, which I have read, if only a little.
Little Casino (2002) – Gilbert Sorrentino
Most memorable read of the month, and my first Sorrentino. Funny and poignant, though never laugh-out-loud funny — there is a somewhat cruel, cynical intelligence behind every paragraph. Recommended by Joseph Michaels. More Sorrentino books in my future.
Hearing and Writing Music: Professional Training for Today’s Musician (2002) – Ron Gorow
Improving my understanding of sound. The electromagnetic spectrum (including X-rays, gamma rays, visible light, radio waves, etc.) spans some eighty-one octaves?! (Same as the number of keys on a standard piano keyboard?–get outta here!)
Cahokia (2009) – Timothy R. Pauketat
Goddammit, why can’t I read any of these books about prehistoric America in a linear fashion, cover to fucking cover.
How to Listen to Jazz (2015) – Ted Goia
The title is embarrassing — so much for my old pretensions. Neveretheless, it serves as an excellent primer on the roots days and much else I didn’t already know.
Epistrophies: Jazz & the Literary Imagination (2017) – Brent Hayes Edwards
I read a review of this, and would not have known of it otherwise. Some of it I am finding very interesting, especially about Louis Armstrong. Elsewhere, I feel I’m wasting my time. I might finish it, though. (On a related note, if you haven’t ever read the historical novel Coming through Slaughter, about the jazz pioneer Buddy Bolden, it is highly recommended; it figures prominently in the introductory chapter here. I have been meaning to reread it for quite some time.)
Hopefully September will be just as strong — I’ve got an article on Paul Metcalf to finish & I might have time to sneak a few loose things in.
first chapter (or introduction?) of Love and Death in the American Novel (1960) – Leslie Fiedler
Steps (1968) – Jerry Koszinski
“Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy and the Structure of Paradox” by Rosalie Cole and “Sir Thomas Browne: The Relation of Urn Burial and The Garden of Cyrus” by Frank L. Huntley in Seventeenth Century Prose (1971)
These were both incredibly illuminating as to the Anatomy and Browne.
From the Steeples to Mountains: Charles Ives (1974) – David Woolridge.
This book touched me more than just about anything I’ve read in a long while. I got it out of curiosity about Ives, somewhat casually, but found it totally engrossing, all but about 30 pp. towards the end that seemed a bit excess. But this was magnificent, written in the vein of Olson & even sometimes Paul Metcalf, what with the play of multiple indents, juxtaposition, & collage. I am exploring Ives’s music now with greater interest than I was able to do before. Ditto for the Perlis oral history, below, which contains many touching descriptions of Ives in his sedentary old age.
Charles Ives: An Oral History (1974) – Vivian Perlis
3 stories by Breece D’J Pancake
Four New Messages (2012) – Joshua Cohen
Apart from the book on Walter Raleigh’s lost colony of Roanoke, this month was pretty poor for my reading. I think I advanced about ten pages further into Marguerite Young’s marvelous Angel in the Forest, a book that shocks me with its brilliance and leaves me reeling with every page, every sentence even. And I am not exaggerating.
I tell myself one day I will read one of the many novels on my shelves. It’s a different type of experience, surely, than reading criticism, history, or poetry, as has been my wont of late. But it seems I read fewer and fewer novels: Looking back at my reading logs, I count five novels I read so far this year: two early novels by Harry Mathews, one by Ishmael Reed, The Alteration by Kingsley Amis, and Fatale by Manchette. (I’m not counting Angel in the Forest, which retards me so, I fear I’ll never finish it.) Of these, the only one that really strikes me as outstanding is The Sinking of the Odradek Stadium by Mathews.
I am kicking myself to get back on track and only read things that give me pleasure. I don’t know why it has to be this way. What a convoluted path my reading has taken.
Style, Rhetoric, & Rhythm: Essays (1966) – Morris Croll (begun; reading this in part for its angle on Euphuism and the so-called Baroque style of the 17th century)
Apalache (1976) – Paul Metcalf (re-reading; this is outstanding, and a favorite book of mine, as I’ve said before)
Printing Poetry: A Workbook in Typographic Reification (1980) – Clifford Burke
A Kingdom Strange: The Lost Colony of Roanoke Island (2010) – James Horn
Making Haste from Babylon: The Mayflower Pilgrims and Their World: A New History (2011) – Nick Bunker (begun; probably will not finish)
some books on Ohio history
Angel in the Forest: An Epic of Two Utopias – A Chronicle of the Experiments by Father George Rapp & by Robert Owen in Nineteenth Century America (1945) – Marguerite Young
The Middle Passage: A Triptych of Commodities (1976), U.S. Dept. of the Interior (1980) – Paul Metcalf (reread)
Common Landscape of America, 1580-1845 (1982) – John R. Stilgoe
Achab (séquelles) (2015) – Pierre Senges
Winslow Homer at the Addison (1990) – Paul Metcalf
The Dust of Suns (c.1930/1990s) – Raymond Roussel (trans. Harry Mathews)
The Philosophers’ Madonna (1931/2008) – Carlo Emilio Gadda (trans. Antony Melville)
Exercises in Style (1947/2012) – Raymond Queneau (trans. Barbara Wright & Chris Clarke)
Trial Impressions (1977), The New Tourism (2008?) – Harry Mathews
The Attraction of Things (?) – Roger LeWinter (trans. Rachel Carreau)
The Nonconformist’s Memorial (1993) – Susan Howe
The Case of the Persevering Maltese (various) – Harry Mathews
The Emerald Light in the Air (2014) – Donald Antrim
I read only three of these stories, and was sufficiently terrified to leave off there. “Another Manhattan” in particular left me feeling I couldn’t go on. I read Antrim’s first novel about seven years ago and found it nothing to write home about, but this is hardly the same author. I think I would enjoy, and will seek out, Antrim’s The Hundred Brothers.
What Is Landscape? (2015) – John R. Stilgoe
plans sauvages (2016) – Hélène Fréderick
Debths (2017) – Susan Howe
The Transport… (2017) – John Trefry
My Back Pages (2017) – Steven Moore (Skipping around in this. Is Moore America’s best (living) critic? I would hazard to say so.)
The Merry Wives of Windsor (c. 1600) – William Shakespeare
The Conversions (1960) – Harry Mathews
The Sinking of the Odradek Stadium (1971) – Harry Mathews
It occurs to me that Mathews’s default sense of the phrase and of diction (when he’s not up to disturbing linguistic conventions) is essentially Victorian in nature. This of course aligns with his love of Ruskin, Robert Louis Stevenson, and The Aspern Papers. I found this to be a masterpiece, every bit as good as Cigarettes and The Journalist.
The Players (1985) – Paul Metcalf
An odd play for the stage that Metcalf wrote sometime in the 1980s; not entirely sure what to make of its whimsical construction. Apparently the play was performed in Pittsfield, MA in the summer of 1986.
17 Ways of Looking at Wang Wei (1987/2016) – Eliot Weinberger
A Mouthful of Air: Language and Languages, Especially English (1992) – Anthony Burgess (some chapters, not the whole compendium! a lot to work through here)
Working the Stone: The Natural, Social, and Industrial History of the Village of Farnams, Town of Cheshire, County of Berkshire, Commonwealth of Massachusetts (2003) – Paul Metcalf and Lucia Saradoff
The Quarry (2015) – Susan Howe
I’ve had little patience for Howe’s work & style lately; partly it’s discovering certain repetitions, the same material reworked when I was seeking something new. She has a new title forthcoming from New Directions this year, Debths, which I shall attempt to review.
Attrib. and other stories (2017) – Eley Williams (hopskotchin around in this)
Gorse Journal #7 (2017)
Glad to have a Pierre Senges translation of mine published in this – buy it!
The Revenger’s Tragedy (c. 1580s) (not for nothing is it considered one of the grandest of Elizabethan revenge tragedies)
English Prose Style (1950?) – Herbert Read (ridiculously pedantic in places but useful in others; many of the example excerpts are so long they kill my appetite to read them; is my attention, my patience winnowing?)
Chromos (1940s/1990) – Felix Alpau (begun on a lark; ain’t gonna persevere, not till the time’s right. As I read I keep thinking who translated this? It’s that kind of a book. Reminds me of Zeno’s Conscience, which I could never truly penetrate.)
Rhetoric, Romance, and Technology (1971) – Walter J. Ong (Ong was one of English lit. & lang.’s foremost scholars in the late 20th century, doggedly forging his own niche. Confounding to think of the implications of such a phrase as “Jesuit scholarship.” I read about the first half of it, got what I needed, & cut out. Interesting argument that the ideology of Romanticism, with its emphasis on individual expression & feelings, could only arise once everything was sufficiently written down in dictionaries, directories, encyclopedias, etc.)
Flight to Canada (1976) – Ishmael Reed (I read it because Paul Metcalf takes an epigraph from this book for his Both. Previously I’ve read Mumbo Jumbo. I found this one entertaining, verging on laughter in a few places, but not quite what I was looking for. I plan to read Reckless Eyeballing sometime soon. As Biblioklept knows, Reed is a neglected treasure.)
Atlas () – Glen Baxter
Patagoni – Both – Firebird – I-57 (1988) – Paul Metcalf (By the end of this I will be the world’s foremost expert on Paul Metcalf.)
Headlands: The Marin Coast at the Golden Gate (1990) – Paul Metcalf, et al. (not strictly speaking a “Metcalf book,” but a commissioned collaboration. I regret not going to Oakland last fall & seeing the area when I had the chance.)
Garbage (1993) – A.R. Ammons (Finally — a work suited to my despair of the present. I’ll be (re?)reading Glare very soon I think & 1 or 2 of the major works included in Ammons’s Collected Poems 1951-1971 or whatever the dates are.)
The Night of the Gun (2008) – David Carr
The Flea of Sodom (1950) – Edward Dahlberg (can’t recall the last time I was so disoriented; a mix of tiresome & exhilarating)
Will West (1956) – Paul Metcalf (reread)
“Sardonicus” (1961) – Ray Russell (I wasn’t scared much)
Genoa (1965) – Paul Metcalf (rereading in progress)
Edward Dahlberg: a Tribute; Essays, Reminiscences, Correspondence, Tributes (1970) – ed. Jonathan Williams (this was great)
The Alteration (1976) – Kingsley Amis (+++)
Fatale (1977) – Jean-Patrick Manchette (trans. Donald Nicholson-Smith, 2011) (not quite memorable enough)
The Leafless American and Other Writings (1986) – Edward Dahlberg (I liked several essays inordinately)
An Incomplete History of the Art of the Funerary Violin (2007) – Rohan Kriwaczek (abandoned with spite)
The Translator’s Invisibility: A History of Translation, 2nd ed. (2008) – Lawrence Venuti (great section on Paul Blackburn)
Time Travel (2016) – James Gleick (stuck!)
The Jew of Malta (c. 1592) – Christopher Marlowe
Pericles (c. 1608) – William Shakespeare
The Stars My Destination (1956) – Alfred Bester (in progress)
Random Acts of Senseless Violence (1993) – Jack Womack
I do read a little contemporary literature, but for a year-end list the more interesting thing in my opinion is always to focus on what’s obscure, the chance discovery, the forgotten tome. So here goes…
Terrors of the Night or a Discourse of Apparitions (1594) – Thomas Nashe
You will not find another author so madcap entertaining as Thomas Nashe. No, it’s not easy to read. When I read Nashe it feels I’m looking through a glass darkly to a time when the conventions of written English were in radical flux, coming into formation. I tried to read Pierce Penniless but my attention felt worn out after about 15 pages. It (and The Unfortunate Traveler and Lenten Stuff) await my attention another moon. From Terrors of the Night:
“As touching the terrors of the night, they are as many as our sins. The night is the devil’s black book, wherein he recordeth all our transgressions. Even as when a condemned man is put into a dark dungeon, secluded from all comfort of light or company, he doth nothing but despairfully call to mind his graceless former life, and the brutish outrages and misdemeanours that have thrown him into that desolate horror, so when night in her rusty dungeon hath imprisoned our eyesight, and that we are shut separately in our chambers from resort, the devil keepeth his audit in our sin-guilty consciences; no sense but surrenders to our memory a true bill of parcels of his detestable impieties. The table of our heart is turned to an index of iniquities, and all our thoughts are nothing but texts to condemn us.” (full text)
Because I Was Flesh (1961) – Edward Dahlberg
Rainer Hanshe recommended Dahlberg to me as being up my alley, and that was after I’d read Paul Metcalf’s high praise of Dahlberg’s Because I Was Flesh in From Quarry Road. So I knew it was time. Well, an American who lived and breathed in the twentieth-century went and wrote a whole book about himself and his mother in soundly Elizabethan language. Sounds risky, but the mad codger flew high. Some will spurn it for its reconditeness, others will smear it for what they perceive as its misogyny, but I revel in its relentlessly rhetorical turns and its abstruse diction. But a small taste:
“Only a man cankered by his own zeal would crimp Scripture in order to call a lady barber a disorderly Magdala. When the time came she would be a steadfast wife and provide a husband who cherished her with a jolly, bawdy bed and fat gammons. She would look just as legal and righteous as any other female householder. Love restores the blind, the palsied and the virgin, and even if a lady barber smeared her bridal sheet with Heinz ketchup, no bridegroom should be so foolish as to examine it. A man who scrutinizes everything that he does–or someone else does to him–will die swearing or live to run mad in the streets with no cover for his nude soul but a syllogism. Besides, a woman is a marvelous chameleon creature, for she can cheat, lie and copulate, and still be the tenderest pullet.” (p. 25 in the New Directions edition)
Frame Structures: Early Poems 1974-1979 (1996) – Susan Howe
“On Monday, massacre, burning, and pillage
On Tuesday, gifts, and visits among friends”
(from Chanting at the Crystal Sea, strophe 20; link to blog post on Howe)
Orality and Literacy (1982) – Walter J. Ong
Tiny but crucial, Orality and Literacy maps out some of the differences between speech and writing, between what Ong calls “primary oral cultures” and societies governed by writing. This is very stimulating for anyone curious about the history of literature, the cognitive dynamics of language, and much much more. A nice reminder of what we are almost wired to forget:
“It is demoralizing to remind oneself that there is no dictionary in the mind, that lexicographical apparatus is a very late accretion to language as language, that all languages have no help from writing at all, and that outside of relatively high-technology cultures most users of languages have always got along pretty well without any visual transformations whatsoever of vocal sound.”
Hidden Cities: The Discovery and Loss of Ancient North American Civilization (1994) – Roger G. Kennedy
I became interested in the extinct mound-building civilizations of the eastern United States (many mounds of which may still be visited today) this year. I had visited several mounds throughout my adoloscence but what is there really to be seen or to know beneath the imposingness of a monumental heap of dirt? I’m plagued and perplexed by my partial knowledge still, and no matter how much I read about the mounds they remain impenetrable to me. Kudos to the archaeologists and paleontologists whose efforts have increased our understanding of these early inhabitants of North America, and to such historians as Roger Kennedy who in this book aims for a synthetic understanding of what those civilizations must have been like. It might it help to mitigate a little bit of that amnesia from which Americans always seem to be suffering.
Wonderful Life: The Burgess Shale and the Nature of History (1989) – Stephen Jay Gould
I found this book at the library’s annual used sale quite on a lark; I headed for the science and nature section with a yen to redress my ignorance in matters of geology. Well, I’m still little more than an ignoramus when it comes to the deep time of the earth, but my eyes were opened to the mind-boggling difference of such alien arthropod life forms as Anomalocaris, Marrella and Opabinia. Gould’s book is a tour de force, illuminating not just the radical contingency of history, but the ways institutions and ideologies shape the way scientists look at history. This was the first book I had read of Gould’s, and it is Cambrian natural history written with the clip and ease of an airport thriller, what a rare thing.
Etudes de silhouettes (2010) – Pierre Senges
A good swath of this book (about 6,000 words) will be published in my translation next spring in the newish London-based journal Hotel. The book consists of short texts (ranging from half a page to 5 pages or so) composed from Kafka’s unfinished beginnings found in his notebooks. That probably sounds odd and not too inviting, but what makes this book so extraordinary is the humor, the undreamt of flights of fancy which Senges schemes up time and time again. I hope I can find a publisher who wants to publish the full book in English. I will keep trying. For now, there is The Major Refutation.
Pierce Penniless His Supplication to the Devil (1590s) – Thomas Nashe (stuck)
“The Avenger” (1838) – Thomas De Quincey
Erik Satie (1930) – Pierre-Daniel Templier (trans. E.L. French & D.S French, 1969)
The Man in the High Castle (1962) – Philip K. Dick
The Three Stigmata of Palmer Erdritch (1964) – Philip K. Dick
Nothing Like the Sun (1964) – Anthony Burgess
Peace (1975) – Gene Wolfe
The Mechanic Muse (1987) – Hugh Kenner
by the same author (2014) – jack robinson
“The Fight,” “The Indian Jugglers” (c. 1820) – William Hazlitt
“The Last Days of Immanuel Kant” (1827) – Thomas De Quincey
“Modern Manufacture and Design” – John Ruskin
Because I Was Flesh (1961) – Edward Dahlberg
Orality and Literacy (1982) – Walter J. Ong
Nineteen Seventy Four (1998) – David Peace (abandoned)
I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead: The Dirty Life & Times of Warren Zevon (2007) – Crystal Zevon et al. (skimmed)
The Novel: An Alternative History, vol. 1 (2010) – Steven Moore (in good progress)
Dreamland: The True Tale of America’s Opiate Epidemic (2015) – Sam Quinones (stalled)
Medieval Monsters (2015) – Damien Kempf & Maria L. Gilbert
Finding it hard to sustain any kind of regular reading routine these days. Same old story: family responsibilities, work, too many books I want to read, distracting me, many books commenced, dipped into, many threads scrambled and lost. But what thee lovest well remains.
Tamburlaine (part 1) (1590) – Christopher Marlowe (struggling to read)
The Secret of the Old Clock (1930) – Carolyn Keene (a Nancy Drew book, reading with my daughter)
The Novel: An Alternative History, Vol. 1 (2010) – Steven Moore (started)
White-Out: The Secret Life of Heroin, A Memoir (2013) – Michael Clune
Here Are the Young Men (2014), This Is the Ritual (2016) – Rob Doyle
Billy Budd, Sailor (1888/1924) – Hermann Melville
Classic American Graffiti (1934) – Allan Read
Because I Was Flesh (1961) – Edward Dahlberg (in very slow progress)
The Night Battles: Witchcraft and Agrarian Cults in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries (1966) – Carlo Ginzburg (trans. John & Anne Tedeschi, 1983)
Chanting at the Crystal Sea (in Frame Structures) – Susan Howe (reread)
On the Ceiling (1997) – Eric Chevillard (trans. Jordan Stump, 2000)
Les théories de Suzie (2015) – Eric Chevillard (a children’s book, with illustrations by Jean-François Martin)
Vestiges_02: Ennui (2016)
Cendres des hommes et des bulletins (2016) – Sergio Aquindo and Pierre Senges
Volpone (1605) – Ben Jonson
Review of Contemporary Fiction, Paul Metcalf/Hubert Selby Jr Issue (1981 or 82) (in progress)
Where Do You Put the Horse? (1986) – Paul Metcalf
Enter Isabel: The Herman Melville Correspondence of Clare Spark and Paul Metcalf (1991)
Teach Yourself: Geology (2003) – David Rothery (in progress)
Etudes de silhouettes (2010) – Pierre Senges
Spontaneous Particulars: The Telepathy of Archives (2014) – Susan Howe
The Sixth Extinction (2014) – Elizabeth Kolbert
Cendres des hommes et des bulletins (2016) – Pierre Senges & Sergio Aquindo (in progress)
A pretty nonpareil month in books — many excellent things. If there is an underlying pattern here at all, it’s the Ohio book (the Indian accounts, the Wright Brothers, the Ordovician fossils) I am working on, & also exploring Paul Metcalf’s influences & peers (Metcalf’s work being an inspiration for the Ohio book). The Jesperson is a fair outlier, but every bit as edifying as George Saintsbury. But I don’t know if I will finish it, skipping around as per my wont.
Growth and Structure of the English Language (1905) – Otto Jespersen (in progress)
“Projective Verse” (1950) – Charles Olson
Paterson (1960) – William Carlos Williams
Captured by Indians: 15 Firsthand Accounts (1961) – ed. Frederick Drimmer (in progress)
White Trash Cooking (1986) – Ernest Matthew Mickler
Sagetrieb 5.3, Featuring Paul Metcalf (1986)
Singularities (1990) – Susan Howe
Frame Structures: Early Poems 1974-1979 (1996) – Susan Howe
An Ear in Bartram’s Tree: Selected Poems 1957-1967 (1972), Jubilant Thicket: New and Selected Poems (2005) – Jonathan Williams (in progress)
Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, and Creativity (2006) – David Lynch
A Sea Without Fish: Life in the Ordovician Sea of the Cincinnati Region (2009) – David L. Meyer and Richard Arnold Davis
The Wright Brothers (2015) – David McCullough
Hamlet ou les suites de piété filiale (1887) – Jules Laforgue
Afloat on the Ohio (1897) – Reuben Thwaites
Call Me Ishmael (1947) – Charles Olson
The Maximus Poems I – III (1960) – Charles Olson
Paterson I – II (1946) – William Carlos Williams
Fire Sermon (1971) – Wright Morris
The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary (1999) – Simon Winchester
Graffitis (2012) – Charlotte Guignard
Lillabulero 12 (1973) – Paul Metcalf Special Issue
Begun/in progress :
The Tragic History of the Sea / História trágico-marítima (c. 1735) – edited & compiled by Bernardo Gomes de Brito (ed. & trans. C.R. Boxer, 1959, 1968)
The Median Flow: Poems 1943-1973 () – Theodore Enslin
Colonel Zoo (1997) – Olivier Cadiot (trans. Cole Swensen, 2006)
The Lost Colonies of Ancient America (2014) – Frank Joseph