Review of Memoir: A History

[Christian Science Monitor]

This week, Ben Yagoda’s new book, Memoir: A History, comes out, and I got to review it for the Christian Science Monitor. One interesting thing I couldn’t fit into the review: Yagoda decides to use “autobiography” and “memoir” interchangeably, even though, as he explains, they’ve connoted different things for a while now. In the early twentieth century, “memoir” meant a book that looked outward, not inward, and was held to a higher degree of facticity. Basically, it meant what “autobiography” means today, and “autobiography” similarly defined more “memoir”-ish books.

One thing I do fit into the review is a plug for Yagoda’s book on the New Yorker, About Town, but I’ll do it again—it’s an incredible read, almost 500 exhaustively-researched pages (whereas Memoir is a breezy [and borderline double-spaced] 271 pages).

In Which I Accidentally Answer My Own Question

Last Friday, in a short essay for The Millions, I tried to call attention to an egregiously overlooked essay by Lewis Hyde on copyright and the Founding Fathers. I spent most of the time summarizing and quoting from Hyde, but did try to end on an original point:

Since December 13, 2005, when Hyde published it on the Social Science Research Network under a Creative Commons license, “Frames from the Framers” has been downloaded only 746 times. . . . [W]hile the Founders’ ideas still hold relevance, they do so in a much different media landscape, and these differences should play a part in any discussion. “Frames from the Framers” is part of Hyde’s book-in-progress, so its ideas will get their due soon enough. Still, it says some timely things in richly historical ways. Hyde’s essay deserves attention now—not least because its own reception offers one more thing to consider in our ongoing debate about individuals, intellectual property, and the circulation of ideas.

Well, Hyde’s is now the second-most popular essay at the SSRN. This is thanks in large part to the Internet taste-makers at Boing Boing; it also shows one way our “media landscape” now circulates ideas.

I’m going to stop before I give myself a meta-headache.

Lewis Hyde Practices What He Preaches

[The Millions]

Over at The Millions, I’ve got a post on Lewis Hyde and his absurdly overlooked “Frames from the Framers: How America’s Revolutionaries Imagined Intellectual Property.” It’s a great essay with real-world relevance—both to downloading music, which Hyde examines in the essay itself, and to the Google Books settlement, which he takes up (with some of the same quotes and ideas) in this recent NYTBR essay.

I’m actually working on a longer story on Google Books (more specifically, on its covert scanning operations in . . . Indiana!), and I’m starting to think that Hyde’s idealism might hamstring him there in the same way it does in his “Frames from the Framers.” But we need more idealists, not fewer.

You can download Hyde’s entire essay here.

John Cusack and DFW

[x-posted at The Rumpus]

On Friday night, and in preparation for Where the Wild Things Are, I rewatched Spike Jonze’s first feature, Being John Malkovich. What struck me was not the film’s final childlike shots or how its puppet shows anticipate both Christopher Walken and those expensive, “absurdly heavy” monster suits, but something else—namely how goddamn much John Cusack looked like David Foster Wallace.

In the film, Cusack plays a character named Craig Schwartz, and, to me, at least, he bears an uncanny resemblance to DFW circa Charlie Rose. I can’t find a good image of Cusack-as-Schwartz online, but you’ll have to trust me. Both men sport the same long, thick, unmanaged hair; the same weak, stubbly jaw; the same tight white shirt and skinny red tie; the same unhip round glasses; and even some of the same facial tics (especially once Cusack discovers “the portal”).

Wallace recently got his own film treatment—for the titular sections of Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, adapted and directed by Office-ite John Krasinski—and, thanks to it, we can connect these dots. Krasinski to Dave Eggers (Away We Go), Eggers to Jonze (Where the Wild Things Are), Jonze to Cusack—no Kevin Bacon needed![1] But I’m starting to sound far more glib than I felt after finishing Being John Malkovich. In fact, for me, the Wallace/Cusack effect quickly went from oddly creepy to kind of sad. But then I decided to rewatch that Rose interview, where guest and host meander through A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again. Strangely, the real dead person cheered me up where the silly doppelganger got me down. And I think that’s because the lo-fi Wallace interview stands as a better piece of visual entertainment than Being John Malkovich or Where the Wild Things Are or just about anything else—and that’s because of what Wallace says.

Watch that interview. Read the collection’s essay on television and contemporary fiction. Cipher on the ghostly parallel to Cusack (the trailer’s here). Just remember that DFW’s body of work lives on, and that it’s a little less bitter on each return.

———————

[1] Being John Malkovich‘s original script did call for Bacon to play one of Malkovich’s friends.

“Intelligibility Porn”

[x-posted at The Rumpus]

I tried to show some restraint. But it is now 11:59 Eastern time, and The Rumpus, an ostensibly bookish blog, still has not marked, observed, or otherwise commented on today’s release of The Lost Symbol, the new book by Dan Brown. This deserves a post simply as a cultural phenomenon, and it appears that I’ll have to be the one to do it.

To be fair, The Lost Symbol‘s release can’t measure up to readers crowding New York’s piers, waiting for the final installment of a Dickens novel. Still, two things merit a mention. First, Random House’s security measures. These include allowing only six employees to read the complete manuscript; preparing 10,000 non-disclosure agreements to accompany the 5 million first-run books; and sending librarians a letter asking them to keep it under “lock and key.” Amazon apparently looked to Cold War cinema for inspiration in its precautions: the online behemoth stored its books in a chain-link enclosure with 24-hour security and two locks requiring two separate keys kept by two separate people.

While we’re on the subject of Amazon, let’s note that The Lost Symbol has perched comfortably on its “Top 100” list for the past 149 days. And this brings us to today’s second important item—the sales. Around the globe, retailers are reporting that Brown’s book is the “fastest-selling adult novel ever.” (As the New York Times astutely notes, this implies that J. K. Rowling will hang on to her “fastest-selling period” crown.) Mass culture is too fickle a mistress for The Lost Symbol to match The Da Vinci Code and its 81 million sold since 2003. But it looks like the new novel will do just fine.

I realize that I still haven’t talked about the book. I don’t plan to read it, though I did read The Da Vinci Code. (Honestly, I don’t see how one can claim to care about contemporary reading, writing, and culture without at least flipping through it—it’s a low-brow barometer.) But one of the best takes on Brown belongs to New York‘s Sam Anderson. (And not just because he did a nice interview with The Rumpus.)

Anderson admits that Brown’s corpus is “implausible, inaccurate, horrifically written, saddled with comically mechanical love plots, et cetera ad infinitum.” But he goes on to argue that

the power of Dan Brown is very simple: He exists entirely to make us feel smart. He is devoted to reader empowerment like Keats was devoted to euphony. . . . The Da Vinci Code is intelligibility porn: You get the satisfaction of understanding, over and over, without any of the real-world effort.

I especially like Anderson’s concluding point—that cheap-shotting Brown has “exactly the same degree of difficulty as solving his clues and puzzles, and offers similar pleasures. Superfans and detractors are united in this: They leave the books feeling equally smart.” Also worth noting (and sighing over) is the sidebar to Anderson’s essay, which lists “Ten Works That Have Sold as Well as The Da Vinci Code–Combined.”

Finally, here’s an excerpt from The Lost Symbol—no key required.