writers

William S. Burroughs: A Man Within

brittany — Fri, 17 Dec 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Growing up, I latched on to the writers of the Beat Generation for dear life. I loved them all, from the poets and women writers who lived in their shadows, to the heavy hitters like Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, and of course, William S. Burroughs. Truth be told, Burroughs was always the least accessible to me growing up. Whereas I identified with Ginsberg’s spirituality and Kerouac’s bruised sensitivity, Burroughs just seemed downright bizarre. From his three piece suits and demented banker looks to the nightmarish scenes that played out in his novels, I’ve always struggled to identify where he fit in with the Beats. That’s just the thing, though; Burroughs didn’t fit in, and in Yony Leyser’s directorial debut, William S. Burroughs: A Man Within, we learn that he was just as alien to himself as he was to society.

Anyone at all interested in Burroughs’ story will find Leyser’s film intriguing and for those unfamiliar, it will certainly provide an excellent overview of one of the most important writers to come out of the movement. As someone in the film says, Burroughs was probably profoundly mentally unstable, but for many disaffected youth, this will only make him seem more interesting.

As a feminist, I make myself uncomfortable with my profound love for writers like William S. Burroughs. Yes, he was subversive and groundbreaking, openly queer at a time when no one even discussed homosexuality, but he also shot his wife in the head, had a penchant for sex with young boys, and really, really loved blowing shit up with guns. As Leyser perfectly illustrates, Burroughs was unclassifiable; he fit into no mold, no box. He was a walking, talking contradiction.

Burroughs was older than Ginsberg and Kerouac, but they managed to get their most groundbreaking works published first. Despite their head start, Burroughs would prove to be the most enduring figure, becoming a counterculture icon during his later years. He was, after all, the Pope of Dope, a title bestowed upon him after decades of heroin abuse. That said, Burroughs may have been one of the most productive, functioning addicts of all time. As we learn in A Man Within, Burroughs was also considered the Godfather of Punk because of his close proximity to New York’s iconic rock club CBGB’s, his Crawdaddy! magazine column, and the way young musicians flocked to him. Towards the end of his life it wasn’t unusual for bands like Sonic Youth to make the trek to his Lawrence, Kansas home for a visit. Even at the age of seventy-eight, Burroughs was punk as fuck, collaborating with equally troubled soul Kurt Cobain on “The Priest They Called Him.”

All of his life, William S. Burroughs was an outcast, even in the burgeoning literary scene he helped create. Leyser’s documentary suggests that there was a lot bubbling under the surface of Burroughs’ stiff façade. He was a man capable of intense, perverse love, which he illustrated in a number of interesting ways, such as severing the last joint off his left pinky finger as a way of impressing a man he felt deeply for.

This was Burroughs, supremely self-contained and wholly unstable; a scheming, thieving addict and a functioning member of society; a respected writer and a lover of young, male hustlers, many of whom were not quite adults. Burroughs was the type of man you either accepted or were told to fuck off. I have to admit, I really admire him for that, and like all bad influences, you can decide whether or not you let them into your life. After all of these years, I’m still quite under the influence of William S. Burroughs, and I’d even say that Leyser’s documentary only intensified my urges.

Written by: Tina Vasquez, December 17th 2010

A Great Unrecorded History: A New Life of E.M. Forster

admin — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 00:01:00 +0000

By Wendy Moffat

Farrar, Straus and Giroux

Placing E.M. Forster’s homosexuality at the core of his identity, Wendy Moffat's A Great Unrecorded History masterfully unlocks the rich history of the author’s life. She gives readers extensive insight about Forster’s sexual identity and the impact it had on his work. Morgan, as Forster was known to his friends, came of age at a time when homosexuality was persecuted; he kept his sexuality a secret to all but his closest friends. He wrote five novels during his life and was thought to have stopped writing at the age of forty-five. It was not until his death nearly fifty years later that an abundance of new writings was uncovered. There was one novel in particular that Morgan knew could not be published until he died. Maurice painted the world he wished he lived in: a world in which homosexuals could openly fall in love and have a happy ending.

Using letters, journal entries, and interpretations of his fictional works, Moffat carefully unfolds Forster’s emotional and intellectual development, which truly began to progress during his years at King’s College. Moffat also guides readers through various close friendships and relationships throughout Forster’s life. His relationship with his mother, in particular, was always strained; she expected him to grow up into an assertive man and take the place of his father. Instead, Forster would always defer to her even as an adult, a fact that greatly annoyed her; he never told her he was a homosexual. Ultimately, the portrait Moffat paints is that of a sensitive, curious, and imaginative individual.

Although the book is accessible to non-academic audiences, people who have already read some of Forster’s works would probably get the most out of Moffat’s analysis, as she examines numerous passages from his novels. That said, Moffat has produced a compelling piece of scholarship that not only provides an invaluable exploration of Forster’s innermost thoughts, but an illustration of the culture that so deeply shaped his identity.

Written by: Melissa Arjona, June 19th 2010

Mythmakers and Lawbreakers: Anarchist Writers on Fiction

admin — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

Edited by Margaret Killjoy

AK Press

When the term “anarchy” is heard, most people think of the “circle-A” graffiti on crumbling buildings and the T-shirts of punk rock kids, or else imagine a state of complete lawlessness and the breakdown of society. Popular culture does nothing to dispel these collective thoughts. In theory and philosophy, anarchy refers to the absence of a state or rulers and a society in which there is no vertical hierarchy of class, but instead a horizontal equality of societal participants. Margaret Killjoy, the editor of Steampunk Magazine and an avowed anarchist, collected fourteen interviews with varying writers in the compact book Mythmakers and Lawbreakers; the common thread between the featured writers is that each is a professed anarchist, writes positively about anarchist societies, or maintains anarchist sympathies.

Reading each of the interviews, I quickly learned that there are as many varying definitions of anarchy as there are practitioners and theorizers. There is a vague commonality of a desire to see an end to free-market capitalism and democracy (the writers interviewed are mostly American and British) and the desire for complete equality and a gift- or barter-based economy, but otherwise each author has his or her own personal philosophy as it ties in to the theory of anarchy. This is not a criticism, and it does not seem as if anarchists are so loosely connected as to not have any sense of community at all. Rather, it appears as if there are just factions within the anarchist community, perhaps comparable to American democracy's political parties. Each interview in its turn is wholly fascinating to read, as the subjects are certainly outside of the mainstream, literature-wise. The most recognizable names are feminist sci-fi author Ursula K. LeGuin, graphic novel writer Alan Moore, fantasy writer Michael Moorcock, and eco-feminist/neo-pagan author Starhawk.

Margaret Killjoy (who, despite his traditionally feminine moniker, is male) is mostly interested in learning from his interview subjects how they define the intersection of anarchy and fiction, or how anarchist sympathies have defined their writing. This may be considered the theme of the book, although each writer tends to wax tangential about choice pet subjects rather than directly answering the question asked. Killjoy is an obvious fan of each featured writer and brings his own knowledge of anarchy and literature to the fore in his prepared and improvised questions.

One common thread throughout the varying writers' remarks is anarchy and its benefit to feminism. Anarchy would necessitate a breakdown of the patriarchy and optimally result in full equality of citizens. This is a beautiful idea, but I'm perhaps too cynical to accept that this could be the case; I tend to believe that peoples' inherent prejudices would still rule the day, resulting in unequal divisions of labor and other gender discrimination. This and other queries and criticisms occurred to me while learning more about the varying schools of thought in anarchist philosophy. Its practitioners, at least within Killjoy's book, are very idealistic and enthusiastic about their ideas, but also seem to think that these ideas could easily be instituted as the prevailing societal norm. This to me seems hopelessly naive. However, the book itself, the interviewees, and Margaret Killjoy are all refreshingly intelligent and passionate about their work and politics.

Written by: Natalie Ballard, January 23rd 2010

The Irregulars: Roald Dahl and the British Spy Ring in Wartime Washington

admin — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 09:00:00 +0000

By Jennet Conant

Simon & Schuster

Conant, a former journalist, is a thorough researcher. In this book, she digs into the secret wartime propaganda work that Roald Dahl and his British colleagues were assigned to do to drum up American support for World War II. Many official documents about this secret ring of spies were only declassified in 1998, and many of them remain legally inaccessible—and the author notes the difficulty of having to distinguish who is telling tall tales about their actual work.

That said, her recreation of the events that happened during the last years of WWII and Franklin Delano Roosevelt seem to spring to life from the page. The book's colorful cast of characters reads like a “Who's Who” of the political and celebrity elite of the era, including FDR and Eleanor Roosevelt, Ian Fleming, David Ogilvy, Clare Boothe Luce, and Lyndon Johnson, among others. Drawing from correspondence and interviews with dozens of people, Conant vividly recreates England's wartime tension, which coincided with Washington's reckless socializing and split political opinions on how much “help” to give to the British while they were fighting the Nazis.

In the midst of this serious situation are fun moments—tales of buildings that have floors without corresponding elevator buttons, and fake pens that can set off tear gas – where it seems like you're reading a James Bond novel. This is all the more interesting in light of the fact that Fleming would go on to pen those world-famous books, which would later be made into movies.

Conant's attention to detail and brilliant reconstruction of events that happened more than sixty-five years ago make The Irregulars a quick and interesting read, but also a maddening one: as she herself points out, Dahl and his fellow spies were happy to work in an environment where women were mere accessories or means to an end. Each female in the book was blatantly used for her looks, her body, her money, her influence, or some combination thereof. If Dahl and his cohorts, married or not, also happened to pull them into the sack, well, that was just an extra perk.

It's said that you should never meet your heroes; I'd qualify that by adding that you should never read biographical works about them, either. I grew up loving Dahl's books, particularly because of the way the characters thumbed their noses at authority (which he himself did in real life, almost costing himself his wartime assignments on a number of occasions). As a child I assumed that Dahl was a person I'd like to meet; after reading The Irregulars, I have to say I was left with the idea that he was a skirt-chasing, adulterous, sexist pig. If you can get past that, hold your nose and read this book.

Written by: M.L. Madison, December 9th 2009

Life Lived in Reverse

admin — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 16:25:00 +0000

By Lucille M. Griswold

Hamilton Books

Who says a woman can’t do anything she puts her mind to? Lucille M. Griswold’s memoir, Life Lived in Reverse, is written proof that dreams are attainable. This small volume is structured so that each chapter resembles a standalone essay. I found myself thinking of them as life lessons. Griswold’s work is a rich history in positive attitude and determination.

When the author entered her seventies, she decided to complete her formal education which she had abandoned at nineteen, when her single mother could no longer afford the tuition. Ms. Griswold became a student at Vermont College and not in the traditional sense: she took courses online. She majored in creative writing and minored in women's studies, both her passions. While photographing working women in all types of professions, she reflected on her life. This led to finishing her studies at Vermont by writing a memoir.

Much of the early narrative allows me a glimpse of a struggling young married couple. With Pearl Harbor only a mere ten years before, Lucille and her husband set out to form a family. The author reminds us that the country as a whole approached life in a much different way than we do now. Planning seemed a luxury. People were more accustomed to life being thrust at them. There was no healthcare insurance, reliable birth control, or fair treatment for women in the workplace. Yet Lucille never surrenders to the temptation to give up, even after her husband is drafted, just out of dental school, and sent to Vietnam to provide dental work for American soldiers and the Vietnamese.

I love the details of Griswold's childhood life as an Italian American in a small town of New Jersey during the forties. And as an adult, the example she sets as a woman encourages and inspires me to never give up on my dreams. Life Lived in Reverse is the perfect title for a memoir of this woman’s life. Griswold reminds me that my story continues to be written, to thrive, and evolve, and that age should never be a legitimate factor when stepping out of one’s box. It is up to me as a woman to embrace this evolution, seek out the details, and make the most of all the doors that open.

Griswold puts a capital ‘F’ in feminism, even if that was not her intention. This book gives a lesson in empowerment.

Written by: Ann Hite, July 27th 2009

Sex Expression and American Women Writers, 1860-1940

admin — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 09:00:00 +0000

By Dale M. Bauer

University of North Carolina Press

The intriguing title of this book, Sex Expression and American Women Writers, may lead many to wonder what exactly the author means by “sex expression”? Luckily, Dale Bauer makes this clear in the introductory chapter to her study, and I will enlighten those of you who might not be able to immediately get the book.

Sex expression is a clever way of defining the act of writing (or not) about questions relating to sexuality, a term not coined by Bauer. This phrase is especially important because of the topic of Bauer’s study, and even more significant because of what this book brings to light. There are only few ways of finding information about women and sexuality, especially in the interlude specified: 1860-1940. The period Bauer describes is one during which women were gaining a greater freedom of expression in their writing, leading up to the excesses of the roaring twenties and full “sexual democratization.” In fact, women writers have an especially important role to play in describing society during that epoch, and have a gaze that is distinct from that which their male counterparts might express. One of the principal tasks of feminist analysis is an uncovering of these women’s views, and Bauer’s study is indeed an important piece in the construction of herstory, however archaic that term may now seem.

For those of us versed in woman’s writing, it might be surprising that as early as mid-nineteenth century, women writers were writing about sex. One of the details Bauer explains from the outset is the fact that sex expression does not necessarily mean description of the sexual act; it can be simply the way a woman carries herself, conscious of her innate femininity, or the way she chooses to dress. Bauer shows a plethora of these possibilities throughout her analysis. She focuses in on various categories for the writers and novels she explores that seem most significant for revealing sex expression in the period she focuses on: “ugliness, middle age, sex power, inarticulate sexuality, and therapeutic intimacy.” Bauer’s investigation of the changing association of sexuality with ugliness (and later on to beauty) is thought-provoking and her look at sex expression in middle age is timely. Although sometimes dense, this well written study, is quite comprehensive. Even authors that Bauer does not choose to focus on in her six chapters are mentioned, especially if they are relevant to her argumentation. Bauer is careful to include writers of varying ethnicities (e.g., Jewish and African American) and sexualities, and thus consciously diversifies her analysis. Highlights of the text include her chapters on authors Fannie Hurst (for its encompassing reach) and Edith Wharton, an author Bauer has previously written about. This book provides an important synopsis of both seminal and more obscure authors, particularly for those unfamiliar with the women’s literary canon of the time period (as I was).

Written by: Sophie M. Lavoie, July 26th 2009

I Am Your Sister: Collected and Unpublished Writings of Audre Lorde

admin — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 22:28:00 +0000

By Rudolph P. Byrd, Johnnetta Betsch Cole, Beverly Guy-Sheftall

Oxford University Press

I Am Your Sister is a collection for those who want and need to be introduced to Audre Lorde’s thinking, and it is a great anthology for those who have read and been inspired by Lorde’s writing all of their lives. How is this possible? Because I Am Your Sister is not just a collection of Lorde’s seminal work, but a celebration, an honoring, and a thoughtful presentation of who Lorde was—a black lesbian feminist activist and writer. The celebration consists of essays that changed the landscape of feminist thinking (such as the selections from Sister Outsider, as well as the full text of A Burst of Light), pieces of nonfiction that have been scarcely published or never before been published, speeches that have never before been seen in print, and a final section consisting of contemporary writers reflecting on the importance and meaning of Lorde’s work in today’s society.

I Am Your Sister is all of the things, and it is so much more. I see it as a revelation of sorts—an eye opener to how the struggles of past times continue to be what we grapple with today. Rudolph Byrd’s informative and phenomenal introduction to the anthology shows us how, “Whether addressing racism, sexism, or homophobia, Lorde was concerned always with complexity and the sense of possibility that the discourse of difference invokes.” This idea of difference, of this challenge to choose, as Lorde says, “to define my difference as you must choose to define yours, to claim it and use it as creative before it is defined for you and used to eradicate any future, any change” is an idea and challenge that is still present in today’s political and activist communities. I Am Your Sister, therefore, is also a tool for survival—a teacher to help us realize our possibilities for change.

Those familiar with Lorde’s work will also appreciate the never before published essays and speeches. While they touch on the themes that permeate all of her texts—difference, survival, sexuality, feminist communities, racism, fighting ignorance—they can be read as wonderful supplements to Lorde’s previously published work, as well as sparks of ideas that continue to inform new readings of texts such as Sister Outsider. In Lorde’s previously unpublished speech delivered at the first retreat of black feminists and activists in 1977, for instance, she states, “our unique position within this system is to constantly question its most cherished assumption and to radically change it, not merely to co-opt it and make it work for us.” These words enrich Lorde’s belief in the essay “The Transformation of Silence Into Language and Action” that “what is most important...must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the rise of having it bruised or misunderstood.” When these words are read together, we fully understand how embracing and creating different types of language and action are part of who we are as activists, and that this recognition will fuel our ability to challenge, not co-opt, the systems of oppression.

The last section of I Am Your Sister adds even more insight into who Lorde was as a person, who she was as a writer and activist, how these things are not separate from each other, and what Lorde means to us today. Part remembrance, part celebration, and part further interrogation in Lorde’s art, humanity, voice, and passion, the reflective essays from Alice Walker, bell hooks, Johnnetta Besch Cole, Gloria Joseph, as well as the insightful epilogue by Beverly Guy-Sheftall brings the anthology to a satisfying close. But, as is usual with Lorde’s profound prose and ideas, we are always left wanting more.

Written by: Chelsey Clammer, June 14th 2009

My So-Called Freelance Life

admin — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:51:00 +0000

By Michelle Goodman

Seal Press

Goodman has been freelancing for sixteen years at the time of publication. From the jump, her writing is accessible and fun. The follow-up to the somewhat well known The Anti-9-5 Guide: Practical Advice for Women Who Think Outside the Cube, Goodman is once again onto something. What other how-to guides (repeatedly) use phrases like “get this freelance party started”? When you read a book like My So-Called Freelance Life, it isn’t hard to wonder how anyone can break from a traditional mindset about how to make money and allow themselves the freedom to quit nasty situations. My guess is that radical personal politics and at least a small cushion of safety are two important components. They were for me.

Goodman is particularly skilled at debunking the myth that freelancers are kept women who have quaint hobbies and fleeting interests. She also doesn’t assume anything is off limits because of gender. Want to be a freelance welder? According to Goodman, you just need a solid business plan – and not the ugly 200-page kind. Other practical tips include choosing your client instead of being so desperate; they choose you (and you’re forced to accept every nasty job that falls in your lap). Always be moving toward goals: better clients, bigger paychecks, more freedom. Isn’t that why you went solo in the first place? In other words, don’t be afraid to give yourself a promotion just because you’re self-employed.

You also should be clear: freelancing will not always mean working for others. Goodman loosely defines freelancers as women who have gone on to start their own businesses with multiple additional employees. Freelancers are also women (much like myself) who do creative work for pay and supplement their income with assorted odd jobs, often in the service industry or as social servants.

My So-Called Freelance Life is also a somewhat refreshing anti-establishment approach to making your own way, particularly during the recession that Americans currently face. Sometimes, freelancing can shrink some costs (less commute equals lower car insurance and repairs, for example). Fewer dry cleaning bills aren’t the only reason to work at home. And were you thinking about leaving your nine-to-five while still in massive debt? Goodman doesn’t politely say, “Think it over.” She tells you to stick it out or your life, even if being lived in daily cube hell, will only get exponentially worse.

The only real criticism I’d have is that despite inclusive, pro-woman language that fills this pseudo self-help book, I cringe whenever I see a female write the phrase, “I’m their bitch.” Reclamation of the word aside, maybe this is a liberal feminism I don’t personally employ, but I do think a better word could easily be used in this type of context.

Freelancers abroad be warned—a lot of this information is for stateside folk. Certainly you should write what you know, so Goodman did just that, but if you’re a struggling freelancer in say, London or Cairo, this will give you great generalized advice, but the money sections (and some of the tech specs) won’t do you a bit of good. The author acknowledges her own limited scope, but she doesn’t spend time going into it further than that.

You don’t have to reach the final chapters before this book makes you believe you can make it as a freelancer. That, in our culture of fear and negativity, might be the most valuable aspect of all.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, September 13th 2008

Entitled to the Pedestal: Place, Race, and Progress in White Southern Women's Writing,1920-1945

admin — Wed, 06 Jun 2007 20:37:00 +0000

By Nghana tamu Lewis

University of Iowa Press

I have to be honest. This was not the easiest book to read or absorb. It reminded me of a book that might appear on a required reading for a college literature course. The author covers a lot of ground in her analysis of the construction of “the myth of white southern womanhood.”

In her extensive analysis, Lewis reviews the works and autobiographical histories, private correspondences, essays and lectures of five female southern white writers over a period of twenty-five years (1920-1945).

The five authors Lewis shines a spotlight on are: Julia Peterkin, Gwen Bristow, Caroline Gordon, Willa Cather and Lillian Smith. Not being familiar with the works of female southern writers also placed me at a disadvantage in reading Lewis’s critique, but inspired me to add Willa Cather and Lillian Smith to my reading list.

In her painstakingly researched critique, Lewis offers a new perspective on the role these female authors played in the reinforcement of plantation mythology and the position of white women in the complex structure that was southern society at the time. In introducing her thesis to the reader, she writes: similarities and differences among these writers not only deconstruct the white southern womanhood monolith, they also lay bare in this myth and the Plantain mythology a yet unrecognized heterogeneity…it is obvious to me that without the presence of white southern women of means, the social economies and gender politics born out of the myth of White Southern Womanhood and Plantation Mythology neither happen nor endure.

Lewis ends her book with her last chapter “Old Sites of Authority,” in which she describes how the film industry and popular culture continue to reinforce and reinvigorate these myths and stereotypes with films like Bringing Down the House starring Queen Latifah and Steve Martin. She points out that the blockbuster hit earned an estimated $31,680,000 and a number-one rating in its premiere week at the box office.

Written by: Gita Tewari, June 6th 2007