“Such are the perfections of fiction...Everything it teaches is useless insofar as structuring your life: you can’t prop up anything with fiction. It, in fact, teaches you just that. That in order to attempt to employ its specific wisdom is a sign of madness...There is more profit in an hour’s talk with Billy Graham than in a reading of Joyce. Graham might conceivably make you sick, so that you might move, go somewhere to get well. But Joyce just sends you out into the street, where the world goes on, solid as a bus. If you met Joyce and said 'Help me,' he’d hand you a copy of Finnegans Wake. You could both cry.” – Gilbert Sorrentino, Imaginative Qualities of Actual Things


Thursday, June 3, 2010

Quote of the Day




‘I am constructing here a commonsensical book from which nothing at all can be learned. There are, to be sure, persons who wish to extract from books guiding principles for their lives. For this sort of most estimable individual I am therefore, to my gigantic regret, not writing. Is that a pity? Oh, yes. O you driest, most upright, virtuous and respectable, kindest, quietest of adventurers – slumber sweetly, for the while.’ – Robert Walser, The Robber

(N.B. The image above is a sample of one of Walser's microscripts.)

Monday, May 31, 2010

DC Punk: The Evens - All These Governors



I'm off to Canberra tomorrow as part of the Department of Innovation's Book Industry Study Group. Given that, I thought that posting 'All These Governors' by The Evens (ex-Fugazi) was most appropriate.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Irma Gold Reviews Known Unknowns for Overland


The first review of my book has been posted on the Overland Blog, which you can read here. It's a generally very nice review, which says many nice things about my work.

There are, however, two hysterically funny factual howlers that I just have to note (I know, I know it's passé to respond to a review). Gold very kindly states that ‘“Apex”, which deals with a young boy’s trauma over the death of a friend, is an absolute gem.’; this is very sweet of her to say, but no-one dies in ‘Apex’, so maybe it wasn’t quite as good a story as she thought it was.

The best bit, though, is this: ‘“Sickness unto Death” is a potent story and the only one not set in contemporary times. It takes place during the Black Death outbreak and Stinson gives the narrator an uneducated voice of the time. While I would suggest some of the phrasing and language used is not historically accurate, ultimately it didn’t matter.’ I ultimately agree: in ‘Sickness unto Death’ I refer to many things – automobiles, gasoline, rifles, electricity – that would seem anachronistic if the story were set during the 14th-Century outbreak of the Black Plague. These references might, indeed, lead some readers to conclude that the story is not set in the 14th Century at all . . . 

Friday, May 28, 2010

John Safran vs. Me

Last night I was interviewed about my book, Known Unknowns, by John Safran and Father Bob for their Triple J program Sunday Night Safran. Unsurprisingly (given the name of the program), it will air this Sunday at 9 p.m. They were both really nice, although I did get into a minor argument with Father Bob, and Safran suggested that I will forever be branded a 'pervert' as a result of my book--but you'll just have to listen to find out why.

For those who lack radios, you can stream the show on Sunday here.

(N.B. for my fellow ugly Americans: John Safran is not related to Johnathan Safran Foer.)

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Roberto Bolaño's El Tercer Reich





After his death in 2003, a new and 'complete' novel by Roberto Bolaño was discovered among his papers. Entitled, El Tercer Reich (or The Third Reich), the novel was apparently written between 1988-89 and has already been published in Spanish. It's scheduled for publication in English translation in 2011. Being an obsessive Bolaño fan, I've been trying to read the novel in its original language to brush up on my Spanish. Below is my (admittedly tenuous) attempt at translating the opening paragraph:


'The murmur of the sea enters through the window mixed with the laughter of the last of the night owls, a clash that might be the waiters clearing the tables on the terrace, the occasional sound of a car slowly circling Maritime Avenue, and the unidentifiable, muffled buzzing coming from the other guests in the hotel. Ingeborge sleeps, her face like an angel never disturbed by dreams; on the bedside table there is a glass of milk that has not been drunk and now ought to be warm, and, along with a pillow half-covered by the sheets, is a Florian Linden detective novel that she had briefly read a few pages of before she fell asleep. For me, everything is the opposite: the heat and my weariness have interrupted my sleep. Typically, I sleep well for seven or eight hours daily and only very rarely do I feel tired. In the mornings I awake fresh like lettuce and with an energy that does not decline after eight or ten hours of activity. As far as I can recall, it was always this way; it is part of my nature. No one taught me, I am simply like this and don’t wish to suggest that I might be better or worse than others. On Saturdays or Sundays, Ingeborg herself, for example, doesn’t get up until midday and during the week only a second cup of coffee—and a cigarette—will succeed in rousing her and prodding her toward work. Tonight, though, the heat and my weariness have interrupted my sleep. Also, my desire to write, to record my account of the day, has stopped me from getting into bed and turning out the light.'

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Book Review: Aliens in the Prime of Their Lives





Aliens in the Prime of Their Lives
By Brad Watson
W. W. Norton & Co.

Aliens in the Prime of Their Lives is a short story collection by U.S. writer Brad Watson. Although his stories display the polished, refined prose often associated with the style favoured by U.S. Creative Writing programs (Watson teaches creative writing at the University of Wyoming), his stories – thankfully – are nothing like the formulaic minimalism often produced by such institutions.
Consider the first story in the collection, entitled ‘Vacuum’: a woman, recently separated from her husband, puts down her vacuum cleaner and announces to her three boys that ‘ONE OF THESE DAYS I AM GOING TO WALK OUT OF THIS HOUSE AND NEVER COME BACK.’ The boys, suitably frightened, begin dreaming up ways to ensure their mother will stay. Most minimalist stories would stop here, but, for Watson, this is only the beginning. We quickly encounter an eccentric, retired Doctor with an alcoholic wife, the return of the boys’ father and a BB gun shootout. Here, the seemingly minimalist framework is referenced only to be contravened by a far more interesting – and open – narrative structure.
All of Watson stories work this way – just when you think you have them figured out, they veer off in unexpected directions. The story ‘Terrible Argument’, which is about a passionate and violent marriage, unexpectedly receives its dénouement through the perspective of their family dog (N.B. In today’s broadcast I incorrectly defined dénouement as the climax of a story. As one fastidious caller pointed out, a dénouement is, of course, actually the moment just after a story’s climax, as is the case here). In ‘Are you Mister Lonelee?’ we spend half the story sympathising with a character whose wife recently died, before we find out that she is alive and has simply left him.
Watson’s writing, of course, is not sui generis; many of his stories are set in the southern U.S. and recall many of the 20th Century’s great southern authors (Carson McCullers, William Faulkner, and Flannery O’Connor are all obviously influences, here), but for all the polish and precision of his prose, they succeed precisely because they don’t resolve into perfect little gems like so much ‘academic’ (or would it be better to call it ‘institutionalised’?) creative writing. Watson’s stories open onto larger issues, and wilfully refuse facile narrative closure. ‘Fallen Nellie’ opens with the description of a murdered woman’s body; while we learn the sad history of her life, one minor detail is excluded: how she was murdered and who is responsible.
This collection, however, is not for the faint of heart. Watson’s is an uncompromisingly bleak vision, and the characters in his stories are, almost without exception, completely miserable (even worse, most of his narrators have come to realise that they have no-one but themselves to blame for their misery). Aliens in the Prime of Their Lives is filled with traumatic events (often described in detail), but these events are related without any trace of sentimentality. They are simultaneously painful and absolutely engrossing.
Simply put, this is the best collection of short stories that I’ve read all year, and anyone with even a passing interest in the form should seek it out. This phenomenal collection masterfully weaves together a stark beauty, a macabre sense of humour and the delicate evocation of human suffering. Watson’s stories aren’t likely to end happily, but they do run through the full gamut of human emotions, which is what great art is supposed to do, after all.

 This review initially aired on Triple R's Breakfasters.
 

Monday, May 24, 2010

DC Punk: Fugazi - Waiting Room




Fugazi is, without a doubt, the seminal DC postpunk band. Formed by ex-members of Minor Threat and the Rites of Spring, not only was Fugazi the most influential DC act from the late 80s through to the early oughties, but also their own label, Dischord, released virtually every other major DC act over that same span. Anyway, here's a clip from 1988 featuring them playing their classic anthem, 'Waiting Room.' Hey guys, put some shirts on!

My blog seems to cut off some youtube clips at the edge (due, no doubt, to my feeble html skills), so you can also jump to the original here.