Books
About the Author
Appearances
BlogThomas Mullen
Subscribe!Two Scary Thoughts About Literature and Death
Thursday, February 11, 2010
I was in a bookstore a few days ago and I saw my book on display in between "new" books by Vladimir Nabokov (died, 1977) and Kurt Vonnegut (died, 2007). Flattering, absolutely. But also: hmmm, a novel about two characters who die but come back to life sandwiched between two newly published books by writers who are actually dead.
Which brings up a related observation: I've noticed that The New Yorker, exemplar of fine writing, has rather enjoyed publishing dead novelists of late. Off the top of my head, I can recall short stories by Roberto Bolano (twice), Nabokov, John Updike, David Foster Wallace (twice), and William Styron being published in its pages over the last year. Considering that the magazine publishes roughly 50 works of fiction annually, that means about 14 percent of The New Yorker's "new" fiction has been written by dead people. Now, again, I'm a big New Yorker fan. I'm down with Eustace Tilley. But I'm a tad concerned. Perhaps the rumors are true: literature is dead.
Can't wait to see those new Salinger stories!
link to this | File:
Which brings up a related observation: I've noticed that The New Yorker, exemplar of fine writing, has rather enjoyed publishing dead novelists of late. Off the top of my head, I can recall short stories by Roberto Bolano (twice), Nabokov, John Updike, David Foster Wallace (twice), and William Styron being published in its pages over the last year. Considering that the magazine publishes roughly 50 works of fiction annually, that means about 14 percent of The New Yorker's "new" fiction has been written by dead people. Now, again, I'm a big New Yorker fan. I'm down with Eustace Tilley. But I'm a tad concerned. Perhaps the rumors are true: literature is dead.
Can't wait to see those new Salinger stories!
link to this | File: