November 13, 2006KR BlogUncategorized

Short Takes

Sorry for the lateness–one of those mornings.

The dirty truth about David Foster Wallace.

Jodi Picoult writing… Wonder Woman? (Thanks, Ted!)

On a slightly-related note: sci-fi Jack Williamson is dead. (via Books, Inq) Galleycat points out that when he sold his first story, it wasn’t even called science fiction yet.

The money made by criminals who sell the stories of their crimes to newspapers or have them turned into books or films will be confiscated through the courts under new proposals in Britain.

“Some readers have been rubbed the wrong way by the antic quality of his fiction”–this one included. The Millions likes What is the What, though.

Persuasive and fascinatingly illustrated, The Gift profits immensely from the modesty and unpretentiousness of Hyde’s writing and the fascinated good nature with which he expounds his propositions.

Aaron Copland also became a beloved public figure, and is one of only a handful of major twentieth-century composers who managed to write music that could be used for national occasions (“Fanfare for the Common Man”, “Appalachian Spring”, “Rodeo”) and that therefore became known to millions of people, who also remained a composer’s composer.

The allegorical message is obvious and has been since the great mob movies of the 1930s: there are gangsters everywhere, and there are more than we think, since many of them are called businessmen, politicians, lawyers, clerics and union leaders. But then the apparent political or moral point vanishes as soon as it appears, and everyone still wants to be a gangster.

If journalism is the rough draft of history, then the first historian is often the lowly beat reporter who happens to be on the scene of a momentous occasion.