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Edited by author 12-29-2005 08:33 AM
Nafisi plans to outdo Oprah

At least intellectually. Uhm, no mean feat.

Nafisi, who teaches at Johns Hopkins University's School of International Studies in Washington, D.C., is planning an international online book club. She hopes it will be "a place for genuine debate."

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Are you on Richard and Judy's list for 06?

Of course you aren't. Other than Barnes, I don't know any of these books. But that likely says more about my reading habits of late than it does about the list.


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Yeah, I was amazed at the play this got in the Globe. Lamest idea, like, ever. But I guess you gotta cut Iranian women some slack.

If she builds it, they will come...

See, the idea is kind of radical, see? See, we use the power of the "technology" to build a "website" on the "internet", or a "weblog" (alternately, "blog"), if you will, and we "discuss" books on it. People will flock from near and far and the discussion will change the world! It's an idea that's time has come. I mean, a few years back, but, you know, I'm in Iran and we just got Chuck Berry's first album last week. (I kid, but really: good on ya!)


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Edited by author 11-14-2005 11:46 AM
Oprah has the Midas touch

Even divorce turns to gold in her hands.

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Special K: perhaps you have trouble with tense- have a conversation with/HAD a conversation with. Oh dear oh dear oh my oh my.... tsk tsk

Sorry Special K, I just don’t think I understand. Unless I do and you are just correcting a syntactical error in which case I’m scared…

"Conversation with" - talk with or have a conversation with

One Desert Island + Oprah + Faulkner + Elvis...

I had this very same 'did they or didn't they' conversation with my mom recently and she reminded me of the events of August 1986: I joined the Keene Library Reading Club in its final week, missed the first 7 weeks, and fraudulently claimed to have read 10 books in exchange for a ribbon a bookmark and some sort of badge. It’s always either that story or the time I loved the kitten too much with hugs and sent it to it’s cuddly grave; so much disappointment and shame. I’m not saying 300 Oprah Book Clubbers are at all like the 7 yr old me… never mind, I think that’s exactly what I’m saying.

Edited by author 09-23-2005 10:24 AM
Oprah-di Oprah-da, life goes on

Did 300 people read Faulkner or did they just buy the set and display it on their hastily-made book shelf, right under the velvet Elvis? (Velvis?) Anyway, Oprah's promoting graphic novels, now, ' cuz they have pictures and so can be 'read' by 60% more Americans. Is that kind, Kathryn? Go to your room. Right now. Here's Oprah on her decision:

"I wanted to open the door and broaden the field," Ms. Winfrey said in an interview. "That allows me the opportunity to do what I like to do most, which is sit and talk to authors about their work. It's kind of hard to do that when they're dead."

Gosh, she's so pragmatic.

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Oprah promotes reading, champions discussion, and yes, sales books. I do not know all the fuss is about. If you do not like her choices, simply do not read them. Or you could form a NOT-Oprah book club (sponsered by the Iowa Writers Workshop) for the higher-brow audience that Mr. Franzen so embraces. Good luck.

I sympathize with the backlogged victims of Richard Howard's generosity. He's had a selection of my stuff, and sent me two kind letters asking me to be patient, since 1997.

So, by her own admission, the new poetry editor at the Paris Review "never successfully managed to read" Faulkner on her own. You know, The Sound and The Fury is a bit tough, but Light In August is straight-forward prose. Is this someone you really want to be hiring as your culture editor?

She does what no other person could ever do

No, not oscillate wildly in weight and personal health, we can all do that. Oprah makes Faulkner fun!

It looked like one of the oddest pairings around, and yet Oprah-meets-Faulkner turned out, in a curious way, to be an inspired match. It's easy to forget just how radical a writer Faulkner still is, because he's been so thoroughly absorbed into the canon: a process by which, as one critic once put it, "the idiosyncratic is distorted into the normative." Faulkner is anything but normative. Figuring out what is going on in a book like The Sound and the Fury is so hard—and demands such a leap of faith—that every reader struggles in similar ways. Its demanding textual challenges have a strangely democratizing effect. No matter how many lit-crit terms you can throw around, Faulkner's jagged, wildly original style is hard—and can jar confident readers as well as less confident ones. And I confess: At this point in my life, harried by e-mails, exhausted by obligations, tempted by TiVo, I needed some kind of nudging to get me to sit down and engage as deeply as the book was asking me to.

This from the new poetry editor at the Paris Review. (Second link from Brenda)


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The first rule about book club
Is you can't opt out of book club.

I tried to cancel the book club membership. It was only then that I realized there wasn't clear information on how to do that. And when I say there wasn't any information, I mean there wasn't a Web address, telephone number or street address on any of the plan's materials to write to the company and cancel.
Finally, when the next book arrived, I never opened the package. Instead, I wrote on the front of it that the company was to never send me another book and that I would refuse to pay for or accept future deliveries.
Well, books still came, and so did the bills.

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Lordy. I read that as R. Crumb at first. Now I want an R. Crumb illustration of that book group and that sentiment.

...And if they study hard and apply themselves...

They could become a famous reading group like these blokes. (Robert McCrum at his warmest and fuzziest.)

Reading groups - apparently, there are no fewer than 50,000 of them in the UK alone - know that books make us free and books that bring readers together in argument and conversation make us free in a way that renews our humanity and celebrates the strange magic of English prose, a medium of almost limitless potential and surprise.


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Edited by author 06-20-2005 01:17 PM
Book babes

Well, that's what Good Housekeeping calls them. They look like librarians to me but, forsooth, I know a few guys who go for librarians. I guess Handsome Book Ladies isn't as catchy. Dammit, I wanna be a book babe. How does one apply?

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I agree with your illogic. It's the difference between wearing a Tshirt with a logo and being branded like a head of cattle.

G

If the "O" label on the books was a peel-off sticker I'd be more comfortable with it. The fact that it's actually part of the cover art makes me uneasy. There it is - not very logical, but that's me.

Amen.

I may be a rarity, but my life has too often resembled daytime t.v. and too seldom resembled poetry for me to feel too smug...

Well, but that fits my point to some degree. You could blot the entire cover with O, use a large font above the title reading "Martha Stewart Presents:", use front cover blurbs from the idiots who brought you Jackass etc. etc. None of them will usurp what we know Tolstoy, Steinbeck, Faulkner, to be. These books have had 50 or 100+ years to establish a place in literary history. You don't think of daytime tv when you see the O on these books because hell, man, that's Anna Karenina. A newer book doesn't have that foundation. The GG etc. stamp serves as a platform; the O a mansion's arched gate or $1300 Louis Vutton box.

And we're not really talking about you. You, apparently, read widely and judgmentally. You make your book buying decisions based on word of mouth, reviews by people whose opinions you respect. You know which publishers, small or large, have established an aesthetic you can trust when buying a book by an author you've never read before. But you're a rarity. You'll find my book if you want it; no stamp will make you read it if you don't.

As for bad poetry and daytime tv, they're kind of the same for me. I take the same perverse pleasure in feeling superior. But I'm a petty man.

When I've seen it on Steinbeck and Tolstoy, it hasn't made me think of daytime TV. When I see the Griffin sticker on books I think are downright bad, I don't really care how they're classified. Bad poetry isn't better than good daytime television. There, I said it! What's that I smell? Burning pitch?

Edited by author 06-07-2005 11:58 PM
"Best book" is a contestable thing, Zack, but my point is that even if you disapprove of the prize winners, the imprints of the GG, Giller, Griffin, IMPAC etc. all classify the books as "literature" with all of the snobbery that may or may not entail. Depending on your attitude toward snobbery, they'll attract or repel. The big O makes you think, aesthetically, thematically, of daytime television. So - whether they accurately represent the book's achievement isn't really the issue I was addressing - the perception of the buying public and the so-labelled author is.

Sure they are, Chris. Do you really think that the Giller or the GG (or the Griffin or the Dublin Impac or the Booker or ...) goes to the best book of the year? Very bloody rarely. They often go to books that aren't very good at all. As empty a sign as any big fat 0.

britwrit, without doing anything other than answering your question, I'd say that perception differs. If, say, Oliver Stone adapts your book, you know people will quickly distinguish between the authentic thing (your book) and the Hollywood version. New media, new 'version'. The big 'O' doesn't create a new version. Instead, it invokes preconceived notions of 'Opraholism' that readers will bring to the book.

I think you can make the distinction between the Giller or GG stamps and the big O on similar grounds. These aren't empty signs.

Still, what's the difference between slapping a big "O" on your novel and selling it to Hollywood? Is Oprah asking for rewrites? Is she handing the manuscript off to a bunch of braindead producers and a parade of multiple screenwriters? How's her money so much more compromising than, say, Scott Rudin?

In the end, I think Oprah is the much softer, much easier target. No, it's easier to look down at her viewers but you sure don't want to anger Paramount...

I believe it's Sanctuary, G.

Oprah's back! Meedly meedly meedly nnneeeeowwowowow! (That's the sound of publishers doing excellent air guitar solos while kneeling on their desks - with whammy bar at end)

And she's picking more saccharine mental pablum for the... wait. Faulkner? As I Lay Dying? The Sound and the Fury? Light in August? (Or, shamelessly, the Willie Loves Opie Boxed Set - for the reader who doesn't care how their bookshelf looks.) There should be an emoticon for the sound a cartoon dog's cheeks make as he shakes his head in a triple take of disbelief. This should be interesting. Refresh my memory, it's been years since I read them... which one has the corn cob rape in it again? (Whew! And here I thought we were a month late with our Oprah discussion... relevancy is half timing, half luck on timing.)


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I was hoping for Sanctuary. Now that would have puffed a few beehives up.

G

Holy crap! Have you seen this?

(from the Amazon.com front page)

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Oprah's Book Club® Is Back!
Oprah has announced her next big pick, A Summer of Faulkner. Oprah's love of the classics continues with this three-book collection of William Faulkner's early works, including As I Lay Dying, The Sound and the Fury, Light in August, and a special reader's guide.

***

You can imagine the looks on the faces of the couch-pertaters as they crack As I Lay Dying. Yowza!

"High priests and trainspotters"

McCrum looks the "fanaticism" of the English literary society.


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Could someone please give me some information about the Afro Puff Girls Book Club? I just read an article about them in the Final Call Newspaper!! I, too, have established a book club and would like to get some ideas from the coordinators. Thanks.

Edited by author 04-26-2005 10:21 AM
Move over, Oprah

The Afro Puff Girls Book Club is way cool.

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Examining the Oprah backlist

Here's an interesting piece in which someone reads all 43 Oprah-blessed titles and does some analysis on why there's such disdain for the bookclub.

Rooney notes the vast majority of the titles won favorable reviews when they were released. Of the 43 fiction titles, 31 received reviews in the New York Times Book Review - all but six positive. It was only after Oprah chose them that they came under attack.

And hand it to Rooney for not being willing to take the books' quality on faith. She read all 43, except for five she pronounces "unreadable." Five more she found "plain awful" but compelling enough to complete. The rest were good, she writes, even great.

So why did the books come under so much criticism? The question goes to the core of our perceptions about culture and art. Oprah, Rooney posits, found herself caught in an ongoing unease in America between highbrow and lowbrow culture generally summed up as: If a huge number of people appreciate something, can it really be art?

As much as I use Oprah as a rubber chicken around here, I've coincidentally read several of the titles on her list and loved every one I've read.


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The likes of Aimee Bender are doing fine. I met her, she gave a craft talk to my MFA program. She has a kickass job at a well regarded California university's MFA program. She publishes short stories left and right, she's got a well-regarded novel out there, she gets paid to go around and talk about writing. Does she really want her books being read by the sycophants who watch Oprah? I hope not.
And on Susan McRae's notion that "most men don't read," well, this is true, but most people don't read, men and women, and I would wager that the breakdown of LITERARY readers is about 50/50. Yeah there are a lot of guys who read Grisham and such, but there are just as many women who read those awful "chick lit" books like The Devil Wears Prada and the Sex in the City rip-offs and Werner and Bushnell and all those other hacks with their teal and hot pink book jackets providing "beach reading" to a bunch of upper class lily white schoolteachers and aimless college grads driving around in the convertibles that their daddys bought them as graduation presents.
You are right that there are too many programs offering MFAs these days, though.
And, yes, of course I would take a free car, but I'd much rather have the cash equivalent. I can't afford the insurance on a high end brand new car, but I would do the logical, practical thing and sell the new car and pocket about half the cash, then use the other half to buy a reliable used car or less expensive new car.
As for the "vulgarity quotient" of my post, it's there to show the extent of my disdain and disappointment in the pitiful actions of the so-called "women" who signed that petition to Oprah.

Sincrely,
Sean Hooks

Yep. If you know anything about the book industry, you know it is in free-fall at the moment. No publishers ='s no one to pay the kick-ass likes of Aimee Bender et al to write their fine books. I suppose we could all reassure ourselves with the fiction that many a fine novel would be written without the financial and editorial support of a major publisher. And that is probably what many of us will do. (Maybe *one* fine book can be written that way, but after 10 exhausting years and 0 return on your time and effort . . . it's off to the management program at Arby's we go.) The fact of the matter is, these people are desperate to keep writing, and that ability depends on their ability to publish. Oprah, whatever you may think of her, had people reading fiction again. Not just fiction, by gob. Literature. It made a real difference. A huge difference. It gave a lot of people the much-needed faith to go on.

And, hell. . .who's gonna turn down a free car? You? You?! I don't think so.

wow -- they sure hand out those MFAs like paper cups these days, don't they?

As far as the estrogen to testoterone ratio is concerned, that's easy. Most men don't read. And if they do read something, it is either non-fiction, or something that is written by a man (ie John Grisham, Clive something or other).

More women read than men. Women are more open to reading titles if they are suggested. Both Oprah and the female authors know who their audience is: women. It has very little to do with men, believe it or not. (that might be hard to take for some people)

Why is knowing who your audience is trading in your self-respect? Personally I think that is smart and good business.

After all, Jane Smiley (after five husbands and owning a ranch with several horses) ought to know how to make a buck from writing.

Bookninja was more amused than appalled.

Dude, the meds. The doctor prescribed them for a reason.

Seriously, I'm with you on some counts and think you're way nutty on others. You had me until you got all worked up and your language tanked into the obscene. And by that I mean after line one.

I think someone should point out that Bookninja was more bemused than appalled.

http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory?id=691803
Article also linked from bookninja.com homepage

Hey, Bookninja, good to see somebody else is appalled and offended here. Selling self-respect is absolutely f-ing right.

150 plus of today's writers (some of them pretty good ones) line up to smooch the wrinkled pucker of America's most hideous oligarch.

Yes, that's right, insecure contemporary authors are begging Miss Oprah to stamp, for our approval, more contemporary titles. Apparently they enjoy having their books read by undereducated, witless, bitch-slapped, plastic surgery enhanced housewives.

Here's my take on these authors' unfortunate decision. And some of them I used to actually respect (ie: Jennifer Egan, AM Homes, etc.). Guess it just goes to show that you really do have to separate the art from the artist. (Though it'll be hard to disocciate the greatness of Look at Me or The End of Alice from the perpetrators of this whiny, insipid and utterly pathetic act)

Today is one of the sadder days I've had in recent memory. As an avid reader and aspiring author, nothing could be more heartbreaking than to read the names of some of my previously favorite writers on this list of signatures begging at the altar of one of the most heinous human beings in America, the detestable Oprah Winfrey. Oprah is the personalification of everything that is wrong with American society. She is a new age cultist and a paragon of anti-feminism. The following is an excerpt from a paper I wrote at my current graduate program at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, where I attaining my MFA:

Oprah.
The fucking Oprah Book Club. Ah, the buying power of lonely housewives who are too repressed to buy a fucking vibrator to pass their vacuous afternoons in their glass-shrouded Cheever-esque suburban abysses. It was bad enough when she was recommending Wally Lamb and Anita Shreve and Maeve Binchy. Many took her lightly at first. Many felt that Jonathan Franzen was just a cocky young writer being an asshole, in reference to when Franzen (correctly) demanded that Oprah's name be removed from all editions of The Corrections. But now the true and insidious evil that is Oprah rises to the forefront. Now she's "recommending" The Good Earth and Anna Karenina and One Hundred Years of Solitude. What's next? Oprah presents Ulysses, The Bell Jar, The Catcher in the Rye, the fucking bible? Oprah isn't recommending these books, she's co-opting them, plain and simple, her signature letter "O" taking up half the cover. It's not Gabriel Garcia Marquez's anyone, it's Oprah's, her name on the front of the book all but obscuring his. So apparently, not all the imperialistic oligarchs parasitically feeding off the working masses are corporate white males or members of the conservative party. Here's my message to the queen supreme of the decline of American civilization - Hey Oprah: you didn't write it, you didn't edit it, you didn't publish it. All you did was read it, like a million other people, so get your fat black ass off the fucking cover you domineering, culture-appropriating cunt.

Perhaps never before have I felt the degree of disappointment I am experiencing today, reading the list of signees of this sad petition and finding a plethora of talented yet obviously deluded writers who are so insecure about the declining popularity of their craft that they need to kneel at the feet of a contemporary demigod.

R.I.P. Elizabeth Young, where are you when you are so obviously needed?

Sincerely,
Sean Hooks

The reason there are more women than men on the list is because "word of mouth" is a women writers' collective.

Novelists trade self-respect for sales

A list of 150 novelists have signed an open letter begging HRH Oprah to return to the world of book pimping. Oprah, straightening the purple feather in her white, wide-brimmed fedora, tapped her rhinestone-studded cane thoughtfully and said she'd "considamer the requestamatation." She then kicked the pleading novelists from her flared pantleg and told them to get "they's bitch-assed faces back on the street" before she really gets angry.

Authors complain that with publishers and bookstores consolidating, there are fewer avenues for new authors to break through. Winfrey's book club, they argue, was one of the few developments to bring people back to bookstores in a decade that has seen a steady decline in sales of literary fiction.

I feel sorry for the novelists. They're so desperate and grubby. People, once you give up on sales and money-making, it's really easy to say fuck it to anything but your art. Ask your poet friends. (Um, anybody want to venture some analysis on the estrogen to testosterone ratio in this list?)


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Lit blogger coop

Some good press for this lit bloggers co-op, a neat idea spearheaded by Mark Sarvas of The Elegant Variation. For the record, Bookninja was originally a member (in fact, as a nominating member, I picked one of the titles currently under consideration), but I decided to bail after a bit. Part of the reason was ideological, part to do with time and effort. But regardless, I think it could be a good thing and should be supported. The books are bound to be interesting.


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And while we're on picks

TMN's Tournament of Books has ended with Cloud Atlas beating out The Plot Against America.



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Every book club meeting I've ever been to has been a write-off.

You could apply for charitable status and write your meetings off...

We had a poetry book club when I worked at Schwartz Bookshop in Milwaukee. The members called it the Poetry Support Group.

The book club: not going anywhere

Exactly, says I. But apparently they are here to stay.

According to Professor Mark Currie, of Anglia Polytechnic University, book clubs, with their articulations of enthusiasms, are partly about "trait connotation". He said: "It's like wearing a particular shirt: passion for certain books indicates lots of things about your moral character that might be favourable."

The discourse at reading groups does not often have much in common with the language of scholarship. Prof Currie and a fellow English literature don were once barred from a book club lest they ruin the fun with talk of structuralism and the like.

Anyone know of a poetry book club? I mean, other than poets. Do tell. (From PFW)



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BC as in book club.

I'm pretty sure Guy lives in Sask, not BC.

BBCBC?

Vanderhaeghe makes the BBC book club short list.



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Like a virgin

Bookclubs get the beat down at CBC. (From Q&Q)



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Yeah, that lightweight Oprah. Second book she ever did was Song of Solomon. Too bad she dragged it down from the rarified heights of BOMC.

Clubbing

And not the baby seal type, is in a state of decline. Warehouse prices, internet sales and the proliferation of big box chain stores in every corner of Jesusland has chopped away at the membership of the Book-of-the-Month club. The answer? Dumb it down, baby.

And where literary lions like Wilfred Sheed, Mordechai Richler and J. Anthony Lukas once set the country's reading agenda, choosing the club's monthly main selection over lunch and brandy in Midtown Manhattan and discovering writers like J. D. Salinger, that role has been largely usurped by Oprah Winfrey and the book recommendations of morning news programs, leaving general book clubs as little more than relics of a bygone era.

Intellectuals: the first to go.



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MMMmm, chicken wings and books... but it'd have to be either Guinness or Bailey's (double, on the rocks) for me.

Awww!

Bookclub turns twenty, makes paper in Sacramento, where real news doesn't happen and reading is exceptional.

Part of their success comes from the understanding that modern communities often are sought out or created. Two founding members of this local group, Melanie and Steve Mopsick, took a how-to class on starting a book club at the Learning Exchange as a way to meet people when they moved from Washington, D.C., to Sacramento in the early 1980s.

Just kidding. But, still, I'm jealous. I'd love to sit around a table and talk books with the right group of people. Said table should be populated with large glasses of Creemore and plentiful baskets of chicken wings.



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Tough Love for the bookclub set

What do you do when someone hogs the floor at your bookclub meeting? Eh, hotshot? What do you do? Turn the bitch out, yo. (From Bookslut)



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Taking the Risk Out of Choosing Books... Whew! I'm an Idiot and I Have to Say: About Time!!

Apparently it's too much effort to stop drooling long enough to choose a book that will make you drool like the slack-jawed simpleton you are. That's why Britain has Richard and Judy (whom I can only suppose are the snootily accented equivalent of American morning vid-pablum mousekateers Regis and Whomeverthefuckthatgigglingmoronis).

Perhaps the most surprising choice is PS, I Love You by Cecelia Ahern, the 22-year-old daughter of the Irish prime minister. A love story "from beyond the grave", it won a huge advance but was roundly panned by the critics for its one-dimensional characters and cliche-driven dialogue.

The Richard and Judy bookclub has not exactly been a byword for literary fiction. But Amanda Ross, executive producer of the show and driving force behind the bookclub slot, admits that the Summer Read list has specifically targeted the "lighter" read.

"There is a difference between this list and our Best Read books - Summer Read puts entertainment first. Hard-earned holiday time is precious so we've taken the risk out of choosing the right books to take away," Ross said.

Um, British people: hello? Aren't you supposed to be culturally superior?



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Book Club for a Good Cause
Mary Trentadue, who owns North Vancouver's 32 Books, has started a book club for Downtown Eastside sex workers. They're looking for book donations, so help out if you can.

Missing Sarah was handed out to 100 women this month from a van that roams prostitute strolls in Vancouver and is staffed by outreach workers who are former prostitutes. Some of the recipients have already gathered to craft book covers for their copies, and next Tuesday about 30 are expected to attend the club's first formal meeting at a local social-service agency. They'll be treated to a catered lunch, readings by Maggie de Vries and a discussion led by Trentadue about the next book they'd like to read.

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Two Books, One Brisbane...

One big headache. Just what we need, this reading-coformity-better-than-no-reading-at-all idea to get out of hand.



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Oh, Bookninja, do I have a Duran Duran comrade for you! Email me, I think you'll be surprised...Hint: this person is a fellow M&Ser.

Personally, I'm too young to have been into them :)

too busy with!?
Weird Al!
Gawd.

Edited by author 10-09-2003 10:47 AM
I never listened to Duran Duran. I was too busy with Weird Al.

Listened-to, dressed-like, fought-over, ostrasized-because-of, grew-out-of, became-embarrassed-of, denied-listening-to, grew-nostalgic-for, sang-aloud-unashamedly-at-karaoke, giggled-senseless-to-memories-of-with-wife, now-refer-to-at-every-opportunity.

Simon LeBon, who the heck is that, I asked. An answer came from the bathroom. Not a metaphor, Claude, an answer literally came from the bathroom.
I Googled and sure enough. I did take a minute to rub my eyes in disbelief. Someone actually listened to those guys and bothered to remember their names! Oh my.

Now You Can Read Along with the World's Hippies!

Forget bathing! Now is the time to read!




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I freakin can't believe you didn't have anything to say about this. For crappity crapsake.

A Howl and Whine, I'm After You... Sweet Merciful Crap!

Simon LeBon has a book club. Yes, take a minute to rub your eyes in disbelief ... again ... it's still true.




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