Category Archives: great books

September 21, 2011   Miriam   fiction, fun, great books, guilty pleasures, Miriam, reading, reviews  
21

Virtuous reading

My neighborhood book club is tomorrow night and I’m about 100 pages into this month’s fiction pick, The Tiger’s Wife.  I guess that if I stay up late and cram I can finish it in time to dazzle the ladies with my literary insights.  Problem is, I got to page 100 about two months ago and I have had zero desire to pick the book up again.  Despite the apocalyptically excellent reviews (sorry, couldn’t come up with an adjective BIG enough for the unctuous praise the book received), those first 100 pages left me pretty cold.  Sure, Ms. Obreht is a precociously fine writer, but if you’re familiar with magical realism and Eastern European novels of the last half century, you might find, like I did, that a lot of her schtick is derivative and not particularly emotionally impactful.

Or, you might think it’s a brilliant book and that I’m a boor for being bored by it.  No matter.  The point of my rambling today is that with any other book, I might have reached that 100-page stopping point and, deciding that life’s too short, buried the novel somewhere in the lower shelves of an overstuffed bookcase never to be seen again.  But, I can’t seem to do that.  This is one of those books that I feel obligated to slog through no matter how disappointed in it I already am or how certain that the next 200 pages are not going to change my mind.  What I want to be reading for pleasure is a toothy thriller, or a frothy paranormal, or literary fare that speaks to themes I’m concerned with right now, or historical nonfiction with lots of plot twists and stranger-than-fiction characters, or a totally irredeemable celebrity memoir.  What I feel obligated to do is finish Ms. Obreht’s opus just so that I can say I did.

I’ve always struggled with the notion of virtuous reading.  On the one hand, if it weren’t for virtuous reading, my literary education would be sorely lacking in some key areas (I’m thinking of you, James Fenimore Cooper).  On the other hand, with so many great books beckoning and the certainty that I’ll never get to enjoy but a fraction of the ones on my multi-page list of things to read before I die, it really rankles to devote valuable time to something just because it’s supposed to be good for me.

Where do you fall on this issue?  Do I keep reading and pat myself on the back for my moral fortitude or chuck it and move on to some other page turner?  What would you do?

September 07, 2011   Miriam   authors, canon, college, culture, fun, great books, Miriam, opinion, reading  
4

Syllabi

Yesterday, as I headed north on Broadway toward the 125th street entrance to the West Side Highway in a downpour not seen since, well, last week when gregarious Irene was paying a visit to the entire East Coast, I found myself stopped at a light in front of the main gates of Columbia University, my alma mater.  The street was teeming with rain and fresh faced freshmen looking vaguely shellshocked.  Watching them hurry to cross the street before the light changed and the homicidal cabbie in the next lane hit the gas, their overstuffed backpacks and grim expressions sent me into a reverie about my long ago school days.

One of the reasons I chose Columbia was its mandatory humanities courses—philosophy, literature, music, and art survey courses composed of the “canon” of great works.  As those of you who read this blog regularly know, most of us here at DGLM love a reading list and what better reason to go into thousands of dollars worth of debt than to emerge with a reading list full of masterpieces chosen by…old white guys, reflecting the ideology and intellectual tradition of…old white guys.  Wait!  Even with the occasional nod to a woman or person of color the canon really was rather limited and limiting in its choice of authors. All these years later, it still is.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved many if not most of those canonical choices, but I wonder what I would have changed in that syllabus for my lit hum class.  Instead of the Iliad, perhaps One Thousand and One Nights?  Borges instead of Dreiser?  Zora Neale Hurston instead of F. Scott Fitzgerald?  How about genre literature?  I know I would’ve traded a great mystery novel for the millions of pages on whaling by the esteemed Mr. Melville in a heartbeat.

Obviously, there’s no right list of classics, but if the idea is to shape young minds that will then go out and shape the world, what would your reading list include?

August 26, 2011   Lauren   fun, great books, Lauren, lists  
1

Some levity for your weekend

So, guys, things are getting a touch serious around here.  The city’s apparently closing mass transit tomorrow, and New Yorkers get a little edgy when there’s a routine train delay, so the impending hurricane has people somewhat nervous.  Instead of deliberating what degree of panic I should ratchet up to with that new announcement, I decided those of us in Hurricane Irene’s way or just having a rough day might want something to distract ourselves.  So I went to the best distraction source I know, cracked.com.

If you’re also feeling a bit freaked out or just down in the dumps, use some of that electricity while you’ve still got it and find out why Neo-Nazi’s love Lord of the Rings, that Machiavelli was a troll, how Dick and Jane made us stupider, and if Plato might’ve been trying to tell us where Atlantis was.  By the time you’re done clicking through the treasure trove of humorously rendered dubious facts that is Cracked, probably all your problems will have fixed themselves, right?  Right?

August 03, 2011   Miriam   culture, fiction, fun, great books, lists, Miriam, reading  
10

Shoulda, coulda, woulda

Ask anyone at DGLM (Jane in particular) and they will tell you that I’m an insufferable bookworm.  When a simple reference to Kim Kardashian would make a more relevant point, I will cite Anna Karenina.  If we’re debating the merits of the writing in a manuscript we’re considering for representation, I’m apt to dismiss it by suggesting that the author is no Ivan Klima (or fill in some other relatively obscure Slavic author).  See what I mean?  Annoying.

Of course, I have a lot invested in turning my nerdy childhood, spent eating chips while buried in the pages of doorstoppers, into a source of irritation for my friends and co-workers.  They may have been partying while I was reading The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire but they have no idea how hilarious Gibbon’s footnotes were.

And, of course, like any pretentious book person, I’m terribly insecure about the books I didn’t read.  The gaps in my reading list are, as you can imagine, a constant source of embarrassment—not so much that I’m rushing to download those titles on my Kindle, but, you know….  For instance, even though I struggled mightily and valiantly through Romola, I never did get around to George Eliot’s Middlemarch. I did lose steam after the first volume of Proust’s 675-volume Remembrance of Things Past and I’ve never gone near a work by Herman Hesse.  This Today list of books everyone really should have read, reminds me that, well, there will always be books that I should have read, should read, haven’t read, and…probably won’t.

How about you?  What are the ones that got away for you?

July 21, 2011   Michael   drinking, editor/agent lunches, great books, Michael  
10

Writing and drinking…or writing about drinking

Those of you who know me know I love a good cocktail–mixology (though I hate the word) is a bit of a hobby. I make a killer martini, have perfected my favorite version of an Old Fashioned (Makers 46, The Bitter Truth’s Jerry Thomas’ Own Decanter Bitters, orange peel, bar sugar, and a splash of soda), and even have some Creme de Violette, in case a guest requests an Aviation. That said, I’m a total lightweight who can’t ever have more than two drinks, so I’m always in awe when people speak of three martini lunches. I know the drinks and glasses were smaller years ago, but it’s still impressive!

More to the point, I was really taken with this Daily Beast piece with the 10 Best Writings on Booze.  With excerpts from heavyweights (and heavy drinkers) like F. Scott Fitzgerald, Dorothy Parker, and Edna St. Vincent Millay, it’s worth it just as a reminder of how good these ten writers are. Two of the pieces stood out.  Kingsley Amis’s description of a hangover from Lucky Jim is beyond brilliant. Who knew a hangover could be so poetic (and downright funny) in its pain?  And to sum it up with “He felt bad,”  is nothing less than perfection.  The other excerpt that stood out to me was from Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises, in part because it’s so good, but also because I still clearly remember reading the book sophomore year of high school, sprawled out on my tomato-soup-red carpet (it was there before we moved in!), totally absorbed. It’s one of those magical reading moments that’s forever etched in my brain. Maybe all that foreign drinking inspired my love of travel and cocktails? Considering the content of the book, I doubt it!

Anyone got any great booze-related books or book-related cocktail recipes to share?

July 13, 2011   Miriam   endings, favorites, great books, Miriam  
26

Last words

Everyone knows that a great opening line can “make” a novel.  You might be so beguiled by a beautiful first sentence that you decide to follow the author on whatever path s/he chooses to lead you (even if where it leads you is misery, confusion and despair).  We’ve made a lot of fuss on this blog (as publishing people do) about opening lines…but what about final ones?  How a book ends and the image, emotion, or idea it leaves you with is, to me, in some ways more important than how it ensnares you to begin with.

I remember many years ago being rewarded for my persistence and dedication in reading Faulkner’s maddeningly brilliant The Sound and the Fury by the very last line (of what it turned out was an appendix added to the book years later; I didn’t know this at the time so for me it was the last line): “They endured.”  That phrase has stayed with me for decades now. (Yowsa! Feeling old here.)  Its simplicity is its power and it left me in awe of someone who could have crafted such a fierce and uncompromising book and ended it so exactly right (the actual first last line is pretty great too; check it out).

I have a hard time remembering what I had for breakfast (and it’s the same thing every day), but some of my all time favorites:

“After all, tomorrow is another day.” – Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

“Isn’t it pretty to think so.” – Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

“She called in her soul to come and see.” – Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

“Vladimir: Well, shall we go? Estragon: Yes, let’s go.  [They do not move.]” – Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

And, of course, I surveyed the DGLMers.  Some of them ignored my e-mail (as they do) and some came back with:

Stephanie, Jim, and Lauren: “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

And Lauren: “He loved Big Brother.” – George Orwell, 1984

And Jim: “When they tried to detach the skeleton which he held in his embrace, he fell to dust.” – Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Rachel: “yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.” – James Joyce, Ulysses

Jessica: “She runs.” – Nadine Gordimer, July’s People

What are your favorite last words and why?

July 08, 2011   Rachel   great books, Rachel S., reading, recommendations  
21

In between sobs

I recently finished reading Patti Smith’s Just Kids (wayyy late in the game, I know) and you’d really think I’d have learned by now not to read particularly emotional things in public. It only leads to me pretending I’m not crying in coffeeshops. Or on the subway. Or in the park. Or on a bench.

Not so. Instead I ended up just kind of putting my head real far down into the book. Which looked totally normal, I’m sure.

I never used to be a book-crier. It’s only been in the past several years that I have become acquainted (well acquainted) with this phenomenon. I’ve always been a song-crier and a movie-crier, however, so I suppose this was only inevitable. Every part—no matter how clichéd or expected—that a movie director aims for tears, I’ve got them. In both books and film, it’s not always the saddest things that make me cry, but often it’s the most profound or deeply touching in any manner. In my many readings of Harry Potter, I never cried at deaths, but lose it completely every single time in that horrible epilogue when Harry names his son after both Snape and Dumbledore. It’s a terrible and trite construct on Rowling’s part, but it never fails to trigger the waterworks. Knowing it’s far from the deepest or saddest part of the series really only makes it worse.

I say worse, but I suppose I don’t really mean that. A book that can trigger that kind of emotional response, for whatever reason should be lauded. As much as it’s mildly embarrassing to tear up in front of a roomful of strangers, there’s always a bathroom to hide in. Too often people aren’t affected enough by the humanity in everything—life, literature, music—it doesn’t matter, so when the waves come over me, I always kind of love it. Simply being able to feel things in a world where people have come to pride themselves on their thick skins and jadedness makes me just fine about being a weeper.

In case anyone else shares in this, here are a few books that have made me well up satisfactorily lately: Just Kids by Patti Smith, There is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper and The Secret History by Donna Tartt. Do you have any to add?

June 17, 2011   Lauren   great books, Lauren, memory  
8

Sharing is caring

One of NY’s greatest pleasures is that it’s a pretty literary city. With American publishing centered here, on just about any night you can probably find a great literary event going on. Last night I went to a reading and panel featuring new children’s books, and it was a fun event. But I had an ulterior motive:  one of the authors was signing a book I’ve read, loved, and must share with my sister. Not only is it a book about sisterly love, it’s precisely the sort of book she and I used to share back when we still shared a bedroom. In fact, when I first read it, I was reminded of a short story in a horror anthology we were obsessed with when we were younger. My first thought when I read the last sentence of the novel was that I loved it. My second was that Katey would, too.

Even though we no longer share a bedroom or even a state, Katey and I still share books.  I think I’ve mentioned before that I try to give her my favorite books I’ve read in the past year for her birthday and Christmas. I also never visit her without at least a book or two in tow, no matter how little else I’ve packed.  And when she and her family come visit me in July, there will be a stack of great reads waiting. When she bought a new bookcase recently and posted a blurry photo on Facebook, I tried to spot things I’d given her and tag them. It was like a Word Search for book nerds. And she’ll reciprocate: I think there are already five books lined up for her to bring up for me next month.

I’ve always been a book sharer and love trading off with friends or giving them recommendations, but it’s Katey who I think of with every book I read. All books end up sorted in one of two mental lists:  give to Katey or Katey wouldn’t like. We don’t always love the same things, but where books are concerned, we completely understand each other.

Am I alone in this? Anyone else have a kindred soul whom they just need to share books with? Or do you spread the word to everyone equally?

June 08, 2011   Miriam   about us, agents, art, authors, fun, great books, Miriam  
2

What inspires us

In our line of work we hear a lot about what inspires people to write.  We also hear a lot about when inspiration takes a hike and authors are left with a bad case of writer’s block.  I’m pretty sure we all agree that the state of feeling inspired is a wondrous and energizing thing and that feeling devoid of inspiration is tantamount to sitting in a dark room on a sunny day.  What is interesting to me is that we agents are seldom asked about what inspires us.  Everyone wants to know why we pick the projects we do, sure, but I don’t think anyone has ever accosted me at a conference and asked me what I’m inspired by.

Well, even if you don’t ask, I’ll tell you.  Like our clients, we’re inspired by great writing and storytelling, of course (as well as art, music, and drama that makes you sit up and take notice).  We’re inspired by people who are able to turn personal pain and suffering into art.  By those who can lucidly and entertainingly explain scientific principles and those who write movingly and convincingly about intangibles like faith.  Personally, I can find inspiration in everything I’m curious about—from medicine to cocktails, black holes to macramé, steampunk to quiet literary fiction.  In every category, a smart, thought provoking, well elucidated book inspires me to seek out more about the subject, or read more of that author’s work, or go out and try to find something similar that will become someone else’s inspiration.

We often tell our clients to find models for their work. Whether it’s a bestselling novel or a piece of contemporary art, someone out there has undoubtedly grappled with some creative problems similar to yours with inspiring results.   As agents we take our own advice.  We sign up projects because we just saw a play we loved that dealt with a similar topic or because we’re currently wearing out the new Adele CD and want to read the literary equivalent.  We digest a newspaper piece that gets us thinking and the next thing you know we’re looking for a writer to shape it into a full-length nonfiction narrative.  And so on, ad infinitum.

Lately, I’ve been inspired by Dr. Seuss and Patti Smith.  How about you?  What’s inspiring you these days?

May 31, 2011   John   children's books, fun, great books, John, setting  
5

Literary landmarks for the kids

Welcome back, readers! Hope everyone had a good Memorial Day weekend. The family and I spent a couple of wonderful nights outside of Boston with friends, complete with all-American long weekend activities—barbecue, golf, lawn sports, etc. Even got a night off from the kids for an adult dinner at a real restaurant!

But perhaps the most special part of the trip was a visit downtown to the Boston Public Garden for the boys to check out the setting for Make Way for Ducklings. Surprisingly, there’s really not all that much in the Public Garden specifically dedicated to Robert McCloskey’s classic. There’s a group of statues of Mrs. Mallard and her chicks, but that’s really about it—yes, there are the swan boats, but they advertise no link to the book, nor is there anything to mark the island where the ducks make their home. And the only sign of Officer Michael was on an ice cream truck on Boylston Street.

Still, Henry was in heaven, partly because plenty of live ducks still make the pond their home. But more than that, I think he made the connection that here was the site where the book actually took place, and that the setting of a book can sometimes be a real place, as opposed to make believe. I have to say, I was pretty blown away by that moment of comprehension, and it made me think there must be other picture book locations I should be taking him to.

Next up is a bike ride to the little red lighthouse under the George Washington Bridge, but after that I’m drawing a blank. Any suggestions?

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