Posts Tagged: Last Book I Loved

The Last Book I Loved: “Please” by Jericho Brown

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Jericho Brown’s Please explores the way love and violence coexist with each other and how the two sometimes intertwine. The collection of poems is categorized by four sections: “Repeat,” “Pause,” “Power,” and finally, “Stop”; the first three sections address self-identification both psychologically and sexually, his relationships with his father, mother, and lovers, and what it […]

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Michael Jauchen: The Last Book I Loved, Miss Lonelyhearts

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I read a lot in the bathtub. This isn’t because I’m particularly drawn to cleanliness, but because I’m drawn to the readerly space that a hot tub of water can create. The stillness of a full bathtub—that sporadic spigot drip, the lazy drawdown of heat, the tiles’ passionless whiteness—spins a hive of deep focus for […]

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The Last Book I Loved: Brief Interviews with Hideous Men

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It’s not easy to explain David Foster Wallace’s Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, especially to a co-worker or a parent, or your wife or your wife’s friend. First you have to tell them about the format. Yes: there are brief interviews. But you don’t hear the questions and you don’t know who is doing the […]

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The Last Book I Loved: Hygiene and the Assassin

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“When the imminent demise of the great writer Prétextat Tach became public knowledge—he was given two months to live—journalists the world over requested private interviews with the eighty-year-old gentleman. …Monsieur Tach viewed his diagnosis [of the rare Elzenveiverplatz Syndrome, cartilage cancer] as a hitherto unhoped for ennoblement: with his hairless, obese physique—that of a eunuch in […]

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Sean Carman: The Last Book I Loved, Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter

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Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter, Mario Vargas Llosa’s 1977 novel, begins with an epigraph–a quote from Salvador Elizondo’s The Graphographer–about the watery line between reality and its representation in language. “I write,” it begins. “I write that I am writing. Mentally I see myself writing that I am writing and I can also see myself […]

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The Last Book I Loved: The Handmaid’s Tale

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My boyfriend sometimes says things like, “Back in high school, I was a theater geek.” What he means is that he attended acting camps during all his summer vacations, and he played juicy supporting roles like Horatio and Don Pedro in his high school’s Shakespeare productions. This niggles me. I think the phrase “theater geek” […]

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The Last Book I Loved: West with the Night

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Her mother was a nurse, shot in World War II in Nepal. She—my mother-in-law—was an Ivy League-educated, motorcycle-driving, garden-planting veterinarian in Vermont… with a pilot’s license. When she passed away after a bout with cancer, two weeks after the birth of my first child, I decided to read her favorite book, Beryl Markham’s West with […]

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The Last Book I Loved: I Love You More Than You Know

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I moved to New York City in July. I was unemployed, rejected from graduate school, and had $6.29 in my bank account. It seemed logical. I’d spent the last year incapable of making the transition from college to the “real world” and convinced myself that the city would help. Instead I had twenty-four free hours a […]

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The Last (Poetry) Book I Loved: Star Dust by Frank Bidart

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Everything from the theme of creation to the understated technique resonates; it is a book of poetry which has inspired both reflection and furious meditations of my own as I spin my own arcs from Bidart’s example. It is excellent art. Reviews of Star Dust obligatorily quote the following line, and rightly so:

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David McConnell: The Last Book I Loved, The Story of Alchemy and the Beginnings of Chemistry

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I’m always hunting for great nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century histories. Something about those rolling, periodic sentences, the lofty diction, the Olympian “great man” narratives gives the books an air of eternal authority I love. Compared to them, recent popular histories feel tentative, as if all we can do now is apply incessant conceptual tweaks to […]

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The Last Book/Poem I Loved: “The Changing Light at Sandover” by James Merrill

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It took me three months to pound my way through James Merrill’s epic poem, his universe, his vision of the afterlife as told through a Ouija board in a conversation between Merrill, his partner DJ, and the characters on the other side of the mirror. It’s exquisitely crafted–I found myself thinking in rhymed iambic pentameter […]

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Bob Sommer: The Last Book I Loved, You or Someone Like You

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The last book I loved was You or Someone Like You by Chandler Burr. A wife and mother living the Beverly Hills good life, Anne leads book groups for directors, screenwriters, producers, and actors. It’s not that she planned to do this, it just happened because she’s so well read, so brilliant, so delightfully British. […]

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