Powers to Powell
I. Dzyd Levi at Inside Higher Education, on the Nobel flap:
What writers might be on the verge of a Nobel-level career? I’m placing my bet on Richard Powers (as did the MacArthur Foundation several years ago): His oeuvre to this point has shown him to possess a restless, inquisitive mind that is unlikely to allow him to repeat himself or settle into a rut, while his ambitious attempts to marry the language and insights of science to psychological realism seems like a reasonable formula for the sort of sweeping masterpiece that could get the Nobel committee’s attention.
Ah, but who else does he like? Read on...
II. Levi also points me to this rather arcane (think Venn diagram) tidbit, a treat for Richard Stark fans who are also Anthony Powell fans, and vice-versa:
By the time he'd unpacked and desanitized everything, the air in the room had a bit of life in it. Sternberg stripped to his boxer shorts, turned down the bed, settled himself comfortably with the pillows behind his back, and opened the Anthony Powell novel he'd started on the plane. It was Magnus Donners he wanted to identify with, but he kept finding his sympathies going to Widmerpool.
—Richard Stark, Plunder Squad
Labels: Anthony Powell, Levi Stahl, Richard Powers, Richard Stark
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