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Irish March

Irish March has come around again, and I thought I'd read something contemporary this year, but my public library had no books from the recently acclaimed Anna Burns, Eimear McBride or Sally Rooney. Fortunately, as I was scanning the shelves for Rooney, I stumbled across Ethel Rohan's The Weight of Him, which crossed my radar a while back (it was published in 2017) but I had since forgotten. Ireland-born writer, Irish setting, good critical response. Works for me. I think she's even a Facebook friend (or something) of mine, but we've never corresponded. The book is 336 pages so it should take me a few weeks to read, but I'm not sure what I'll read for the remainder of the month. Maybe scrounge up something cheap at Open Books.

February 28, 2019 in Books | Permalink | Comments (4)

“...that gift of not discovering...”

In Artie: A Story of the Streets and of the Town, George Ade writes this memorable character sketch:

Bancroft Walters is the second son of LaGrange Walters, who manufactures a superior kind of roofing and has grown moderately rich at it.

Bancroft plays the banjo, appears at amateur entertainments, goes to great many parties, and probably belongs to that indefinite class known as "society young men." He has a desk in his father's office, but it cannot be said truly that he is held down to office hours or that his salary represents the value of his actual service. He attended an eastern college for two years, and then came home for some reason, which perhaps only his fond and trusting mother could satisfactorily explain.

She knows it was the fault of the college.

Bancroft is inclined to be dapper, talkative and wonderfully full of self-assurance. Then he has that gift of not discovering that most people regard him as a very ordinary sort of person.

Bancroft is a childhood friend of the book's protagonist Artie Blanchard, but has "taken on airs" as his (inherited) social standing has grown elevated, far above that of the office clerk Artie. But Artie (and Ade) quickly cut Bancroft down to size, in devastating manner.

February 27, 2019 in Books | Permalink | Comments (0)

“... a group not to be matched elsewhere in the country...”

William Dean Howells, from Literature and Life (1902):

Could one say too much of the literary centre at Chicago? I fancy, yes; or too much, at least, for the taste of the notable people who constitute it. In Mr. Henry B. Fuller we have reason to hope, from what he has already done, an American novelist of such greatness that he may well leave being the great American novelist to any one who likes taking that role. Mr. Hamlin Garland is another writer of genuine and original gift who centres at Chicago; and Mrs. Mary Catherwood has made her name well known in romantic fiction. Miss Edith Wyatt is a talent, newly known, of the finest quality in minor fiction; Mr. Robert Herrick, Mr. Will Payne in their novels, and Mr. George Ade and Mr. Peter Dump in their satires form with those named a group not to be matched elsewhere in the country. It would be hard to match among our critical journals the ‘Dial’ of Chicago; and with a fair amount of publishing in a sort of books often as good within as they are uncommonly pretty without, Chicago has a claim to rank with our first literary centres.

February 14, 2019 in Books, Chicago Observations | Permalink | Comments (4)

“...like a blue phantom...”

Pelé on Gordon Banks and “the greatest save ever”:

“As a footballer you know straightaway how well you have hit the ball. I had hit that header exactly as as I had hoped, put it exactly where I wanted it to go, and I was ready to celebrate. But then Banks appeared in my sight like a blue phantom and somehow pushed my header up and over. Even now when I watch it I can’t believe it, I can’t believe how he moved so far, so fast. The save was one of the best I have ever seen. Rest in peace my friend, you were a goalkeeper with magic but also a fine human being.”

February 13, 2019 in Current Affairs, Sports | Permalink | Comments (0)

Runaway nun...

...fakes her death, crafts a body double to act as her corpse, and pursues a life of carnal lust. Go, Joan, go!

“...having turned her back on decency and the good of religion, seduced by indecency, she involved herself irreverently and perverted her path of life arrogantly to the way of carnal lust and away from poverty and obedience, and, having broken her vows and discarded the religious habit, she now wanders at large to the notorious peril to her soul and to the scandal of all of her order.”

Alas, Joan’s fate is lost to history, which is actually fiction’s gain. I think it’s nearly impossible for her story to not end up as a novel, or even a Netflix series. Handmaid’s Tale meets Game of Thrones.

February 13, 2019 in Books, History | Permalink | Comments (0)

Quote

“Porous borders are understood in some quarters to be areas of threat and certain chaos, and whether real or imagined, enforced separation is posited as the solution. It may be that the most defining characteristic of our times is that, again, walls and weapons feature as prominently now as they once did in medieval times.” - Toni Morrison

February 10, 2019 in Books, Current Affairs | Permalink | Comments (0)