Friday Free Associating: Music and NYTimes edition.

Here's a nice little song to enjoy before your weekend (listen at least through all three of them singing together):

 

Wow. Also: The New York Times Notable list is out, and it's totally boring. I have decided that the New York Times Book Review has no relevance to my life at all. Case in point? Julian Barnes's Nothing to Be Frightened Of is on it, and I'm in the process of reading that and being completely underwhelmed. I'm getting really tired of old men atheists and agnostics telling me all about their lack of religious beliefs (Barnes, Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris, Daniel Dennett), particularly since it seems to guarantee them a spot on the Notable lists. Annoying. And, might I ask, where are all the woman atheists? I'd love a book on atheism by a woman, just for a change of pace. Think on this.

Have a great weekend all, and remember to finish up John Bowe's Nobodies and Reg Theriault's How To Tell When You're Tired. The Menage starts first thing next Monday!! I can't wait.

Comments

[Steph Bedford]

Wow is right. I have nothing articulate to say about this performance clip except thanks for posting it - it was truly mood-altering.

[Citizen Reader]

Steph,
You're welcome. I think "mood-altering" describes it perfectly. Have a great weekend!

[Roberta]

So beautiful . . . thanks, cara!

[Citizen Reader]

Roberta, cara, are you talking about the three boys or the song? :) I can't decide if I'm in love with Rufus's hair or just extremely jealous of it. Beautiful!

[Brandon]

Yeah, screw the NYTBR. What a trainwreck of a review section. I actually suffered through their review of Updike's latest novel. God, what a terrible review. I'm convinced the NYTBR is staffed with nothing but sycophantic robots who can't even write.

But hey, they're good for something over there. They remind me about why I despise book reviews in the first place. This isn't misplaced, either; I've always hated book reviews, even as a kid. But the NYTBR? Reading that tripe is like visiting the ninth circle of hell.

End rant.

[Sarah]

The fiction was totally out there. The NF was more relevant. I'm reading the latest Eloisa James, which tells you where I'm at. Hey, it's 18th Century British history, right?

[Citizen Reader]

Brandon, I'm with you: Fuck 'em.

Don't even bring Updike into this conversation. That guy's been resting on his laurels for what, thirty years now?

I don't hate book reviews, I just really hate bad book reviews. And way-too-long reviews of books I'm never going to read. Give me a good review over at Bookstorm any day! :)

Sarah:
Well, their fiction picks are always kind of out there. I didn't think their NF choices were particulary daring, they just all looked dull to me. And if they ARE all as dull as Julian Barnes's "Nothing to Be Frightened Of," then they're truly very dull indeed.

[Brandon]

Well, I think the Updike review is possibly the worst review of the year. I'll see if I can find it for your reading torture.

[Citizen Reader]

Brandon:
What I really want to know is, who's still reading Updike? I worked at a public library for seven years and don't remember anyone checking him out, except for maybe "The Terrorist" a couple of times. Someone must still be reading him, but I have no idea who those people are.

[rick]

I think the thing that gets forgotten about the New York Times is that it is a very New York thing. It is presented as the nation's newspaper, but it is not really representative of the country as a whole. (I hate to venture to say what is more representative - maybe USA Today - which is terrible thought.) Perhaps a lot of first wave New York-based boomers who remember Updike as radical are still reading him. Perhaps he still speaks to them. Reading Updike is a niche that gets over blown in importance because it is conveniently located for the national media. Everything in New York gets more exposure, especially the Yankees and the Mets. (Hear the prejudices of a baseball fan?)

[Brandon]

I own a copy of "Terrorist," but I've never read Updike. I only picked up "Terrorist" because I discovered it in the bargain shelves at Borders, and I had a passing interest in reading it. But now that it's actually in my apartment, it's kind of embarrassing, in the same way I'm embarrassed to display my Roth and Mailer novels. I'll read it next year, if only to get it out of the way. One thing I've noticed is that when people browse your shelves, they automatically assume you must've enjoyed every book you own. I don't know about you, but sometimes I read books or authors simply to say I've read them, to have a little familiarity with them.

Know what's funny? In "Consider the Lobster," David Foster Wallace reviewed an Updike novel (I forget which title it was) and referred to Updike, Roth, and Mailer as the "Great Male Narcissists." The greatest narcissist of the bunch is Roth, if you ask me. How anyone can enjoy his work is beyond me. All of his books are about himself, and you get the impression that he thinks he has a pretty big, fully-functional (at his age!) dick. The fact that Roth is one of the least interesting writers I've ever read certainly doesn't help him. Or his dick, I'm sure.