:: Buzzwords Archive: October 2012. Click here for the latest posts.

The Missing Links (published 16/10/2012)

The weirding of philosophy. * Ben Woodard‘s Slime Dynamics reviewed. * Nick Land and sci-fi. * Berlin’s abandoned shopping trolleys. * Decoy Paris. * An interview with Christine Schutt. * Beckett reading from Watt and directing Godot. * An interview with Gabriel Josipovici (video). * László Krasznahorkai interviewed. * The beginning of Thomas Bernhard‘s Correction. * On Ingeborg Bachmann. * Conceptual writing. * Writing after conceptual art. * Hitchcock. * David Lynch meets the Lumière Brothers. * Orson Welles‘s The Trial. * Beyond “Kafka’s Wound”. * Wish You Were There. * Jean-Michel Basquiat. * Sophie Calle‘s The Address Book. * Miranda July‘s A Handy Tip for the Easily Distracted (short film). * The Library of Unborrowed Books. * Art attacks. * Defaced artworks in pictures. * D. T. Max on David Foster Wallace. * Famous writers’ illnesses. * Blake Butler: “I like art that seems to want to be destroyed; I like art that takes Chekhov’s gun off the wall and aims it at the reader”. More here and there. * Stewart Home on beatnik legend Terry Taylor. * Kerouac and Ginsberg in Pull My Daisy, 1959. * How the Beats got away from Kerouac. * The Portable Museum. * Radiohead cover The Smiths‘ “The Headmaster Ritual”. * The man who ruined the novel? * Neil Armstrong‘s mum asked in 1962: what if your son becomes the first man on the moon? * Where is the Britain of Wodehouse and Waugh? * Courbet’s nudes. * The strangeness of reality. * Essex couple tear down walls in search for “beeping sound”. * Sigmund Freud speaks, 1938. * Why Swimming Home should win this year’s Booker. * Dreaming pool. * Twitter fiction. * Vintage ads promoting reading and libraries. * Junot Diaz‘s This is How You Lose Her reviewed. * Boulevard of broken dreams. * Writers’ rooms. * How to create the perfect writing environment. * Monkeys With Typewriters. * Melville House have a Tumblr. * Paul Auster reads The Red Notebook (audio). * The future is subhuman. * DBC Pierre‘s Texan road trip. * Dee Dee Ramone‘s posthumous exhibition. * Yellowism. * Irvine Welsh on Jimmy Savile.

The woman who could walk through walls (published 15/10/2012)

Deborah Levy on Nirvana, Cheever, Godard, Plath and Swiming Home‘s other influences:

Swimming Home is set in a smart villa in the French Riviera. It was clear to me that I had to build a sense of place that was as defined and memorable as Gatsby’s opulent white mansion. F Scott Fitzgerald reveals that Jay Gatsby was born James Gatz. I too have the identity of my male protagonist slide precariously between two names, Joe and Jozef – although he is often called ruder things. The villa in Swimming Home had to have the solid walls of a realist novel because I was going to make someone walk straight through them. In this sense Swimming Home merges the European modernism of its influences with some of the traditions of British realism. I wanted to create an uncanny atmosphere in which the past and the near future co-exist in the present of every sunny day.

Fading memory (published 10/10/2012)

Ox and Pigeon translate an interview with César Aira:

I use gaps in memory as a way to make jumps in time, give my stories a less linear rhythm, and create surprise. It’s also a very plausible technique; it’s quite realistic, because our lives are made up more by what we forget than what we remember. Generally speaking, I’d say I’m a fan of forgetting; it’s liberating, and usually errs on the side of happiness, while memory is a burden. It’s an ally of remorse, resentment, nostalgia, and other sad emotions.

Possibilities of text (published 09/10/2012)

Sjón in The White Review:

One of the wonders of the novel is how easily it absorbs diverse texts. Everything that is written, whether it is non-fiction, old archives, newspaper articles, lullabies – somehow it can always find its place in the novel, and for that reason the novel became more important to me than the poem. The novel is encyclopaedic: all of the different manners of expressing oneself in words can find their place there. In the Eighties my friends and I formed a group of surrealist poets called Medusa. Surrealism brings so much with it and one of the first things I realised when I became excited by surrealism was its link with folk stories. Surrealism is always non-academic, always looking for the source of human activity, looking into the back alleys and the darkest clearing in the forest for excitement. Somehow it was always very natural for me to bring all these different things together in what I was doing.