Written on a scrap of Post-It attached to the front page of a copy of THE BOOK OF DISQUIET
THE LONG
Labels: notes, The Book of Disquiet, the endless notebook
THE LONG
Labels: notes, The Book of Disquiet, the endless notebook
Labels: Grant Gee, notes, Rick Moody, the endless notebook, W.G. Sebald
I wrote these notes earlier this year, when Nicholson Baker came to speak at Columbia—a great talk by an early member of the EP pantheon. (My former student Andrew Eisenman gave the wonderful introduction.) The words are in black ink on both sides of a yellow bank receipt. The handwriting is messy, at times nearly indecipherable; the chronology is unknown, as entries are written horizontally, vertically, every which way. There are some arrows, brackets, and lines of demarcation. (Mostly I am posting this so I can throw away this piece of paper, which has been taunting me for most of this year, daring me to transcribe.)
Labels: Dick Francis, Eddie Money, George Eliot, Maeve Brennan, Nicholson Baker, notes, the endless notebook
My story about the notes of cartoonist Chester Brown, which went up at the Toronto Standard website recently (under the title "Text Appeal"), now has its own notes!
Labels: Chester Brown, notes, The Comics Journal, the endless notebook
If years ago, when I was in college, someone had dubbed me a tape of The Best of Leonard Cohen, I’m not sure what I would have made of the music. There’s a chance I would have become a fan. But I happened to buy an old copy of the LP, the back cover of which is given over to Cohen’s notes on the songs. None exceeds seven lines in length; the shortest is 12 words long. They masquerade as compositional backstory, but really comprise a sly autobiography in prose poems, perfect compressions of wanderlust and good old-fashioned lust. A persona is being erected even before the record is out of the sleeve. (Indeed, it includes a comment on the jacket portrait: “I rarely ever look this good, or bad, depending on your politics.”) Cohen’s notes didn’t deepen my experience of the music, but rather replaced it. The songs took a back seat to the life lived, a life recorded telegraphically but indelibly on that tan back cover. The pleasure, the point, of The Best of Leonard Cohen was not where I thought it was.
Labels: Chester Brown, Comics, Leonard Cohen, notes, Toronto Standard