Now that I’ve knocked off a good inch of 2666, I feel like it’s time to say a little about my reactions to it.
At this point, I can’t say I’m very much reminded of The Savage Detectives (other than in terms of some very general themes that seem to be present in every book Bolano wrote); that book was about youth and what happens to youth as it grows old and forgotten. It focused on people above society–by that I mean it was about rendering a certain kind of emotional response to a life gone awry. . . . continue reading, and add your comments
James Wood interviewed in the Kenyon Review.
I then began to think of Smith’s novel in relation to a number of other large books: Underworld by Don DeLillo, Pynchon’s recent book Mason and Dixon, David Foster Wallace’s large book Infinite Jest, and so on. Was there some kind of genre here in which the cartoonish was displacing the real? In which the machinery of plot was also blocking out in some way a greater simplicity? I also thought perhaps there was an interesting borrowing from Dickens: It seems to me that if you look at a book . . . continue reading, and add your comments
From a good feature on Don DeLillo’s White Noise at PopMatters.
One of the funniest scenes occurs in the beginning of the book when Jack and Babette are in the grocery store (a location a lot of the book takes place in). Out of the blue, DeLillo alerts us to a woman who falls into a rack of paperbacks at the front of the store. It’s just something that happens in the background while Jack and Babette are shopping, but the weird depiction is dropped into the narrative so suddenly, you can’t help but bust up. You . . . continue reading, and add your comments
#2 — Underworld — Don DeLillo
Underworld is a book that sifts through 50 years of Cold War America and ends up proving that a Cold War-less America is a rudderless America. However, if Underworld were simply a polemic with no greater point than teaching this lesson, it would have been made obsolete by 9/11 and no one, other than professional historians, would care much about reading it.
This is not the case for many reasons, but I’d like to focus on just three.
First off, in its structure and feel, Underworld captures something essential about the . . . continue reading, and add your comments
Thanks to Dan Wickett for this extremely helpful link to a site called Don DeLillo’s America. It has lists of virtually every critical DeLillo document a DeLillo fan could ask for, including lots of links to reviews and articles on the web (unfortunately, some of the links have expired, but a resourceful DeLillo fan should have little problem ferreting out a copy of the document in question). There’s a quirky FAQ, an interesting bio composed of quotes by and about DeLillo, and lists of his works (broken into novels, stories, plays, and other).
There’s also a "Detractors" section . . . continue reading, and add your comments
It’s been a long, pleasant journey with Underworld. This is one of those books that I read the final pages of slowly, scrutinizing every word, because everything in the text up to this point has been so rich and insightful that I want there to be something in the end to tie it all together, something that lays it all out for me, that puts that gleam of understanding in my eye.
I want this, but of course I also don’t want this. On a certain level I’ve been looking for that key to tie it all together . . . continue reading, and add your comments
I’m at the halfway point of this large book, and it seems that after its fast start this title has settled down some. DeLillo is taking time out to explore his characters’ backgrounds, and there’s also the matter of a couple seemingly extraneous characters that we’ve seen glimpses of (maybe 20 pages or so), but that only seem to fit into Underworld as friends of friends. We started out in 1951, jumped to 1992, and now we’ve traveled back, first to the 1980s, then 1978, and now 1974. The book has grown far more complex and I’m beginning to . . . continue reading, and add your comments