Joshua Henkin’s new, forceful novel, The World Without You, draws some of its power from this peculiar disconnect between the personal and the national....more
Posts by: Reese Okyong Kwon
In all the understandable uproar about the impending disembowelment of the literary magazine TriQuarterly, I haven’t yet seen a suggestion that readers and writers try to do something about the situation.
And so, after a minute of crack sleuthing, I’ve discovered an address to which one can write to ask Northwestern University to reconsider their decision to get rid of TriQuarterly’s editorial board (after the jump)....more
Sometimes, reading can feel like being on a roller-coaster–one of the classically vertiginous stomach-hurtling superstructures, like Coney Island’s Cyclone, say–but, of course, better.
“High Compression: Information, Intimacy, and the Entropy of Life” by Brian Christian, an essay in the latest issue of AGNI, made me giddy with the thrill of following the writer’s logical freefalls from chaos to probability to predictability to the problem with text autofill technology to why it is that small talk might make you want to kill yourself....more
There’s a sizable new interview with James Wood, polemical literary critic extraordinaire, up on LA Weekly. Colson Whitehead has spoofed him, Walter Kirn has mocked him, and there’s even a blog devoted solely to contradicting him–if you don’t already read him (in the New Yorker, the New Republic, the London Review of Books, and elsewhere), it’s a good place to begin; if you do, well, here it is....more
I’ve been living in the Bay Area for nine months now, but after years in New York City I still feel like an exile here. Strangers’ smiles unnerve me; hikes, sadly, bore; driving terrifies. To ease the sense of displacement, however, there is the godsend that is The Threepenny Review, the quarterly literary magazine published in Berkeley....more
Sometimes I separate the books I intend, one day, to read, into two groups: the Bookcase of Desire, and the Bookcase of Guilt. Desire is made up of anticipated pleasures, the books I haven’t yet read only because time is cruel and limited: Bernard Malamud’s novels, for example, and Jude the Obscure, and Alice Munro’s most recent collection....more
This has been a week of exhuming dead writers. First the hallelujahs for the news of David Foster Wallace’s forthcoming unfinished novel, now a newly unburied video of Cheever and Updike being interviewed by Dick Cavett in 1981. Deliciously, the thirty-minute interview is posted in its entirety....more