More Thursday miscellany

  • Bobby Farouk, who posts great short fiction at his blog daily, describes some recent visits with The Novel. (“You read the obituaries in today’s paper? he said. If you think too much about it, it’s depressing. I mean, everybody dies.”)
  • Alasdair Gray on Glasgow’s Kelingrove and Edvard Munch: “[L]ike adolescent me, [he] was obsessed with loneliness, sex and death — his people look lonely, all his women are victims or vampires. He showed me great art can be made out of common people and things viewed through personal emotion.” (If you, like me, missed the Munch show at the MOMA, here’s a pictorial recap.)
  • My disinterest in Moleskines has slowly mutated into loathing. But for all those who, like a certain dear, misguided Bookninja, love them, here’s a twee participatory project that should drive the company’s sale price even higher. Maybe you’d like a $5,000 pen to go with your notebook? (Via.)
  • Will the Internet kill the apostrophe? (Says George Murray: “its not all bad. Cant we just pass it off as silly poetry from Ottawa or something? Maybe throw in a few paranthetical statements without closing brackets?”)
  • The Stranger‘s Paul Constant attended BEA: “Standing in a sweaty club full to fire-code limits of horny, awkward booksellers on the evening of May 20, beset by a vague, distasteful feeling equivalent to watching donkey porn with my parents, I suddenly feel more lonely than I ever have in my whole life.”
  • And in actual literary news, John C. writes, “The summer issue of Bookforum has excerpts from Thomas Bernhard’s first novel, Frost, which has never been translated into English before. (Excerpts not available online.) Knopf will publish it in October.”


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