Pearl Buck Wanted Her Books To Be Affordable

A couple of days ago in a box of books that sat curbside on Amsterdam Avenue near 101st Street on Manhattan's Upper West Side, I found a paperback copy of Pearl S. Buck's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, The Good Earth, set in China. (The book was published in 1931.)

I've seen the 1937 movie on TV many years ago but I've never had the chance to read the book on which it was based until now.

Turning to the page following the title page is a brief comment by Buck (1892-1973) about her novel being issued in paperback. (The edition I have was published in September 2004, so her comments were made sometime in the 1950s when paperbacks first appeared.)

Said she, "I am always glad when any of my books can be put into an inexpensive edition, because I like to think that any people who might wish to read them can do so. Surely books ought to be within the reach of everybody."

I've never seen another writer make that statement. It would be wonderful if from time to time authors included such a statement of concern about the affordability of their books. They will no doubt make less money, something their publishers won't like, but it might help attract new readers to their work.

Stay Curious!

"People ask me, 'Why are you interested in physics?' But why would you not be? To me, the most curious thing of all is incuriosity."--Cormac McCarthy, American novelist (1933-2023), quoted in his New York Times obituary (June 14, 2023), from an interview that was published in Rolling Stone magazine in 2007.

The Other Side Of Ralph Ellison

I own two review copies of Arnold Rampersad's Ralph Ellison: A Biography (Knopf, 2007). And strange as it may be, I never got around to reading either copy.

Then recently I got the urge to read the book when I learned of the not-so-nice side of Ellison (1913-1994), whose novel Invisible Man won the National Book Award for fiction in 1953. Two black writers--Eddie Glaude, Jr. and Victor LaValle--mentioned their reaction to Rampersad's depiction of Ellison in the New York Times Book Review's Q & A feature, "By the Book."

Glaude, a professor at Princeton, after reading how Ellison treated his own mother and his longtime friend Albert Murray, the African-American writer and social critic, went from admiring him to despising him. Glaude said Ellison was "monstrous." (New York Times Book Review, July 25, 2021.)

The novelist LaValle admits he "love[s] reading about artists and their terrible childish ways." And that "Rampersad's biography of Ralph Ellison, while much less salacious than Kitty Kelley's [biography of Frank Sinatra], scratched that itch, too."  (New York Times Book Review, March 26, 2023.)

So now reading the Ellison biography is a MUST so I can see what all the fuss is about.

A Literary Cure For Insomnia

The novelist Percival Everett was asked in the New York Times Book Review's "By the Book" column (December 19, 2021) what books were on his nightstand. He gave an interesting, and somewhat humorous, response:

"On the table are the memoirs of [the Russian composer and pianist Dmitri] Shostakovich. I am not usually interested in memoir and I have to say that I am using this one as a sleep-aid."

Instead of taking an over-the-counter sleep-inducing medication when I have trouble falling asleep, a better solution might be reading a very dull book.

Revisions, Revisions, And More Revisions

The science fiction writer Connie Willis, a recipient of several Nebula Awards and Hugo Awards, was asked by a reader on the website Science Fiction Weekly (June 16, 2005) about her writing process. Her response:

"I rewrite everything, long or short, over and over. And it's not a question of a rough draft. It's many, many notes and drafts and cross-outs and retries. When I was done with Doomsday Book [1992], I had three loose-leaf notebooks full of research and two 8 x 12 inch boxes full of rough drafts. I have never written anything in one draft, not even a grocery list, although I have heard from friends that this is actually possible."

A House Plant With Literary Roots

I recently found in a manila file folder a copy of an e-mail my late friend, the poet Velma Reeb, sent to me in August 2007.

"How is Little Philly?" she asked. Little Philly is the name she gave to a philodendron cutting she took from the house plant she called Big Philly. "The original Big Philly was my friend Alma Stone's plant," she wrote. I'm assuming that Velma's Big Philly was at one time a cutting from Stone's plant.

After giving me instructions on how often to water Little Philly--"Water weekly only; spritz with water mid-week or every few days"-- she described who Alma Stone was. She was "a fiction writer ("The Harvard Tree" and "The Bible Seller")" who "wrote up into her 80's, and died a few years ago in her 90's! In fact, her work can be found on the public library shelves. She won a national award for one short story." The award Stone won, according to Velma, was the O. Henry Award.

These literary works as well as her other papers are housed at the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas, Austin. The location of her papers is fitting because she was a native Texan, born in the east Texas town of Jasper in 1909.

P.S. Fifteen years later, I still have Little Philly. I placed it in my bathroom window, where it receives a lot of moisture and sunlight.

A Writer Admits She's Allergic To The Internet

Gabrielle Zevin's fifth novel, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (Knopf), set in the video game design world, is currently on the New York Times bestseller list. In an interview in the New York Times Book Review (July 31, 2022) about her work habits, she's quoted from her website saying, "I'm allergic to being online, but you will sometimes find me on Instagram, and only for the three months before and after I have a book out." Then she continues, "After that time I completely disappear from the internet and resume writing books again."

Her statement leads me to wonder how other writers like Samuel Delany, Larry Duplechan, and Christopher Bram (who are three of my Facebook friends) find the time to write their books. It seems they are constantly posting on Facebook.

Novelist Julie Otsuka On Literary Guilty Pleasures

"I'm not sure what makes a book a guilty pleasure," said Japanese-Canadian novelist Julie Otsuka to the New York Times Book Review ("By the Book," February 20, 2022), "but you definitely know it when you're reading one."

Science Versus Fiction, Per Margaret Atwood

 "...[S]cience,...is about knowledge. Fiction, on the other hand, is about feeling. Science as such is not a person, and does not have a system of morality built into it, any more than a toaster does. It is only a tool--a tool for actualizing what we desire and defending against what we fear--and like any other tool, it can be used for good or ill. You can build a house with a hammer, and you can use the same hammer to murder your neighbour."

"Literature is an uttering, or outering, of the human imagination. It lets the shadowy forms of thought and feeling--Heaven, Hell, monsters, angels, and all--out into the light, where we can take a good look at them and perhaps come to a better understanding of who we are and what we want, and what the limits to those wants may be. Understanding the imagination is no longer a pastime or even a duty, but a necessity; because increasingly, if we can imagine it, we'll be able to do it.

"Or we'll be able to try it, at least."

--Margaret Atwood, from the essay, "Scientific Romancing," in her collection, Burning Questions: Essays and Occasional Pieces, 2004 to 2021 (Doubleday/Penguin Random House, 2022.)

Death By Card Catalogue?

Adriana Trigiani, the author of the novel, The Good Left Undone (Dutton, 2022), was asked in the New York Times Book Review's "By the Book" Q & A interview feature (May 1, 2022), "How do you organize your books?"

Her answer: "Touchy question in my home right now. I hope to install floor-to-ceiling shelves with the ladder on wheels, like Audrey Hepburn had in 'Funny Face,' so all the books are in one room. But I'm clumsy and my husband predicts death by card catalog[ue]. Presently, books are everywhere--an enormous cookbook collection in the kitchen..., the hallway, the office, every inch is filled with books. And here's the crazy thing. Whenever I need a title, I manage to find it."

Lucky her. I wish I could always find a particular book among my vast collection.

P.S. Death by Card Catalogue would be an excellent title for a murder mystery.

Novelist Julie Otsuka's Ideal Reading Experience

My favorite question asked of those interviewed in the New York Times Book Review's "By the Book" Q &A feature each week is "What is your ideal reading experience?"

Novelist Julie Otsuka, I think, has given the best description so far (The New York Times Book Review, February 20, 2022):

"...I love reading and working in public spaces. My ideal reading experience: late afternoon, pre-pandemic, my neighborhood cafe, a seat in the far back corner, a slight coffee buzz. All around me, the pleasant hum of human voices. In front of me, on the table, a book, a pencil for underlining (Blackwing Palomino), a pen and a small unlined Muji notebook, in case I run across a sentence I want to write down, or overhear a good snatch of dialogue (which could end up in my next novel--sometimes I only appear to be reading)."

Unpublished Books Set Aside For Unborn Generations

 There is a fascinating art project mentioned in an article about the English novelist David Mitchell that was published in The Wall Street Journal (July 18-19, 2020 weekend issue). Unfortunately, no one now alive will get to experience it. It's called the Future Library and was described in the article as "the World's Most Secretive Library." Located in Oslo, Norway, the Future Library will contain the unpublished manuscripts of contemporary novelists like Mitchell, whose most recent novel is called Utopia Avenue, about a fictional 1960s rock band. The unpublished manuscript he contributed to the library is called From Me Flows What You Call Time.

These manuscripts won't be published until the year 2114 when, according to the article, they will "be printed from paper derived from the Nordmarka forest, outside the Norwegian capital." That's assuming books will continue to be printed on paper.

I'm curious about who came up with this idea, what they had in mind when it was created, how contributors to the project were selected, what is special about the Nordmarka forest, whether or not the Norwegian government was involved, etc. These are questions to which I hope to get answers.

A Nigerian Short Story Heard On The Radio

I heard the Nigerian writer Teju Cole's short story, "Modern Girls," read on public radio's Selected Shorts via New York's WNYC on September 13, 2015. It is set in a school for girls in Nigeria during the early 1970s, around the time of the Biafran war. The quality of Cole's writing is so good that I want to read the story myself  as well as his other work, both fiction and nonfiction.

On Sharing Books

"[A]s a rule I don't believe in keeping books. After I have read, reread, and reread a book it seems sinful to keep such a reservoir of fun and knowledge fallow on a shelf. Books are meant to be read, and if I'm not reading them then someone else should get the opportunity."--Walter Mosley, from By the Book: Writers on Literature and the Literary Life from The New York Times Book Review, edited and with an introduction by Pamela Paul (Henry Holt, 2014).

Farewell To Novelist John A. Williams

RIP John A. Williams, the African-American novelist, who wrote The Man Who Cried I Am; Sons of Darkness, Sons of Light; The Junior Bachelor Society (later made into a TV miniseries called The Sophisticated Gents), among other books. He died July 3, 2015 at the age of 89. The headline on his New York Times obituary called him an "Underrated Novelist."

Farewell To Novelist E. L. Doctorow

RIP E.L. Doctorow, the author of Ragtime, World's Fair, and other historical fiction. He died, according to the New York Times Book Review, on July 21, 2015 at age 84.

A Lengthy Page Turner

On a table near the circulation desk at the 115th Street library in Harlem were several uncorrected advance reader's editions of recent books. The sign on the table said "Take One." Sorting through the pile, I decided on Forty Acres by Dwayne Alexander Smith (no relation), a screenwriter and author who lives in Los Angeles. Forty Acres is his first book.

According to the back jacket copy Forty Acres, published by Atria Books, an African American-oriented imprint of Simon & Schuster, is "[a] novel of rage and compassion, good and evil, trust and betrayal--and the most provocative thriller you'll read this year." When I got home, I read the first four pages. From the little that I read, the book sounded very promising. Quickly flipping through the book, which is more than 300 pages long, I noticed that the chapters were very short, no more than two or three pages.

In her back jacket blurb, novelist Terry McMillan, the author of Waiting to Exhale, stated that Forty Acres had her "on the edge of my seat." If that's the case, the book despite its length should be a real page turner and help make Dwayne Alexander Smith a household name.

A Few Words From Truman Capote

"...how can a writer successfully combine within a single form--say the short story--all he knows about every other form of writing? For this was why my work was often insufficiently illuminated; the voltage was there, but by restricting myself to the techniques of whatever form I was working in, I was not using everything I knew about writing--all I'd learned from film scripts, plays, reportage, poetry, the short story, novellas, the novel. A writer ought to have all his colors, all his abilities available on the same palette for mingling (and, in suitable instances, simultaneous application)."
--Truman Capote (1924-1984), Music for Chameleons: New Writing by Truman Capote
(New American Library, paperback, 1981)