The OF Blog: Don DeLillo
Showing posts with label Don DeLillo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Don DeLillo. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

2012 PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction nominees

Since I'm seemingly bent on reading and possibly reviewing every one of the major spring literary award shortlists in fiction (and a few other fields), here's the 2012 PEN/Faulkner Award shortlist that was announced a week ago, with the winner to be announced March 26:

  • Russell Banks for Lost Memory of Skin
  • Don DeLillo for The Angel Esmeralda: Nine Stories 
  • Anita Desai for The Artist of Disappearance
  • Steven Millhauser for We Others:  New and Selected Stories 
  • Julie Otsuka for The Buddha in the Attic
I've already read three of the finalists here and I should finish the others in the next week or so.  If I get the chance to review them before the winner is announced, I'll either post them on Gogol's Overcoat or here, maybe as a delayed mirror of the post there.

Very solid list from what I've read so far, especially Otsuka's book, which I reviewed very positively when it was a finalist for the 2011 National Book Award in Fiction.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

A quote from Don DeLillo's latest novel, Point Omega

The true life is not reducible to words spoken or written, not by anyone, ever.  The true life takes place when we're alone, thinking, feeling, lost in memory, dreamingly self-aware, the submicroscopic moments.


***


I almost believed him when he said such things.  He said we do this all the time, all of us, we become ourselves beneath the running thoughts and dim images, wondering idly when we'll die.  This is how we live and think whether we know it or not.  These are the unsorted thoughts we have looking out the train window, small dull smears of meditative panic. (p. 17)
Received my copy of DeLillo's Point Omega in the mail a couple of hours ago.  Just now started reading it and so far, it is an engaging read.  Only 119 pages, so it shouldn't take too much longer for me to finish it.  Don't know if/when I'll write a review (after all, I have this wrist bandage I'm supposed to be wearing and it doesn't make typing a fun thing to do), but I thought people here might appreciate this little quote. 

Care to share your reactions to it?  Poor/well-written?  Sentiments jibe with your own?  Ever read any of DeLillo's works before?  Thinking about reading this book?

Saturday, October 04, 2008

Nobel Failure?

This past week has seen a bit of a hullaboo in regards to comments that Horace Engdahl, the permanent secretary for the Swedish Academy (in charge of awarding the Nobel Prizes), has made about the quality of American literature:

"The U.S. is too isolated, too insular," Engdahl decreed. "They don't translate enough and don't really participate in the big dialogue of literature. That ignorance is restraining."
Adam Kirsch, writing for The Slate, has an excellent retort, noting that based on a plethora of anecdotal evidence, it is the Swedes, and perhaps by extension certain others in Europe, that display a rather dismal understanding of American culture and the literary scenes taking place. Kirsch notes that the "insular", "ignorant" qualities that Engdahl decries actually constituted the very qualities that past Nobel committees praised when they awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature to Sinclair Lewis, Pearl S. Buck, John Steinbeck, and William Faulkner. Kirsch then notes how the times have changed since Saul Bellow won the award in 1976, with only Toni Morrison winning the award in the interim.

Kirsch makes an excellent point in questioning how the Nobel committee seems to be eschewing Alfred Nobel's own directives in regards to choosing the literature winners in favor of highlighting those who are more apt to be seen these days denigrating American society and culture (in addition to the ubiqitous bashing of U.S. military affairs) than to be seen producing sterling works today. Why hasn't a Philip Roth, Thomas Pynchon, John Updike, or Don DeLillo been honored, when their works challenge the state of contemporary affairs and which contain rich prose and characterizations? That, unfortunately, is the area of Kirsch's argument that could have been developed further, even though I agree with those choices and would add one other, Cormac McCarthy, to that august list of American contemporary writers.

It is annoying, needless to say, to read yet another dismissive comment about American literature that fails to recognize its very international and daring qualities. Criticize the U.S. for lack of translation, when it usually isn't until a work is made available in the U.S. that most works go "international bestseller?" Critique a country of immigrants and the various "flavors" of thought and literature for being "insular?" I guess either Engdahl was in dire need of having any sort of press or else he loves having his toes tickling his tonsils, because such comments only feed into the perception that despite whatever qualities that the United States produces in the field of literature (and other cultural endeavors), there always will be those who'll be dismissive while being insular and ignorant themselves.
 
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