Archives for April 2010

A few literary timbits, er, tidbits. My mind is in the bakery.
• Cheeni Rao, a hugely talented young writer, published his first book last year. The book, In Hanuman’s Hands, is a painfully honest, gorgeously written memoir of addiction and recovery, but not like any you’ve ever read. Rao’s spiraling and redemption are intertwined with family mythology about his Hindu ancestors and tales from the Indian epic poem The Ramayana. The book was well received and marked Rao as a writer to watch.
Earlier this year, Rao contributed to the undergraduate alumni magazine I edit at the University of Chicago (his alma mater). His essay, “Stern Lessons,” is about going back to college after the events of In Hanuman’s Hands, finding his path as a writer, and losing a lot more. It’s a wonderful piece of writing, honest and incisive. Read “Stern Lessons” here.
• Here’s an idea I can get behind: for National Poetry Month, why not memorize a poem? I wrote previously about the rewards of learning poems by heart here. I’ll let you know mine as soon as I choose it.
• What are your reading skeletons–as distinguished from your guilty pleasures? I devoured everything written by Lee Child during the second half of last year though, honestly, I’m not sure how ashamed I am or should be. Unlike, say, some of the television I watch, I feel as though I can justify reading any book that keeps my attention. What about you, esteemed co-bloggers?

Flanders and Swann sing “A Song of Patriotic Prejudice,” from At the Drop of Another Hat:

(This is the latest in a weekly series of arts-related videos that appear in this space each Wednesday.)

“Politics, when it is an art and a service, not an exploitation, is about acting for an ideal through realities.”
Charles de Gaulle, press conference, June 30, 1955

“They showed utter contempt of the law but expected the system to be fair, which to them meant lenient.”
Elmore Leonard, Maximum Bob

I have nothing to say today. I may not have anything to say for the rest of the week. Instead of pretending otherwise, I’ll leave things to Our Girl, CAAF, and the authors of the daily almanac entries.
See you somewhat later.

“Humility is not a virtue propitious to the artist. It is often pride, emulation, avarice, malice–all the odious qualities–which drive a man to complete, elaborate, refine, destroy, renew, his work until he has made something that gratifies his pride and envy and greed. And in doing so he enriches the world more than the generous and good, though he may lose his own soul in the process. That is the paradox of artistic achievement.”
Evelyn Waugh, “Chesterton”