Naipaul’s Darkness: Patrick French’s ‘The World Is What It Is’ Naipaul’s Darkness: Patrick French’s ‘The World Is What It Is’
Biographer Patrick French offers a vivid, sometimes enthralling portrait of a deeply enigmatic writer.
Nov 19, 2008 / Books & the Arts / Scott Sherman
Stewartsville: George R. Stewart’s Names on the Land Stewartsville: George R. Stewart’s Names on the Land
What possessed the fierce individualist George R. Stewart to compile a history of place-naming in the United States?
Nov 19, 2008 / Books & the Arts / Christine Smallwood
Alone Among the Ghosts: Roberto Bolano’s ‘2666’ Alone Among the Ghosts: Roberto Bolano’s ‘2666’
Roberto Bolaño's last novel, 2666, is his most profound exploration of art and infamy, craft and crime, the writer and the totalitarian state.
Nov 19, 2008 / Books & the Arts / Marcela Valdes
A Clinton Administration? A Clinton Administration?
No one should be shocked to discover that, in his transition to the presidency, the "inexperienced" former senator from Chicago has turned to the last Democratic administ...
Nov 19, 2008 / TomDispatch
Obama Reaches Out to Former Foes Obama Reaches Out to Former Foes
Team of rivals for the twenty-first century.
Nov 19, 2008 / Column / Calvin Trillin
The Daily Show: Barack Obama as Chicago Pope The Daily Show: Barack Obama as Chicago Pope
Obama would rather have his rivals inside the tent peeing out, while Americans want a government that urinates very far away from the tent.
Nov 19, 2008 / The Daily Show
Puzzle No. 3147 Puzzle No. 3147
ACROSS
1 Possibly senile, but that's one way to store things. (6)
Nov 19, 2008 / Frank W. Lewis
Poorly Grounded Notions Poorly Grounded Notions
And an inability to comprehend the flow of time. We need only think of statements by everybody. I cannot call my- self myself. Up to this point, the dreamer is dreaming, but now his dream begins. Unities of recollection, separate from one another. Thus in this present world, there are different injuries. I never hear them. They come uninvited. Silver tissue. Garlands between them. Any activity may produce music. Aware of their existence as an awareness of losing their sense of ex- istence: vague, general, nameless, like a nothing or the absolute. I am dead. I am not alive, a music of exceeding shrillness. May be pleasantly illustrated in the following way. Light on his head. Felicitous, contains some fabrication. I am forced to shout out, trace failure to the stage when plans are construed. I see a table before me. I am reminded of another table. I place table beside table. Separate worlds. In what sense are we talking?
Nov 19, 2008 / Books & the Arts / Keith Waldrop
The Sea-Fight Tomorrow The Sea-Fight Tomorrow
Afraid to take a chance. They pass haphazardly in all directions. Diving into his car. Or yours. Are there no strangers in town? Entering, leaving, crossing. I cross to the window and wave. Everybody looks alike. Pyramids. It must be somebody who has a house in the country. He said he would. Characteristic kinesthetic and tactile deficits on opposite sides of the body. Something clicked somewhere. It's got to be airtight on the other end. The butterfly-shaped central gray. Who is this man? It was a restful ride. The transition gradual, without sharp demarcation. The house was full of pictures. The night man was gone. Important changes from level to level. I pretend to listen.
Nov 19, 2008 / Books & the Arts / Keith Waldrop