Tag Archives: PG Wodehouse

All Paris Review author interviews now online!

What a treasure trove! The Paris Review has posted all of its author interviews since the 1950s online! There’s so many to choose from (they have it broken down by name and decade), but I wanted to link directly to a few favorite authors:

Via MetaFilter

Potential anniversary-themed reads for 2010

A few months ago I got the idea to create a reading queue based on anniversary. There were quite a few great books celebrating more or less significant birthdays in 2009.

Continuing the idea, here’s a list of possibilities to choose from for 2010, with the ordinal in parentheses. The list is skewed to 20th Century lit since I didn’t go farther back in my searching except for certain authors — there will be scads of additional selections available if you feel like looking around. Feel free to offer any other suggestions in the comments.

I’ll strike out those I get around to reading during the year.

  • The Brothers Karamazov (130th) – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
  • Rhinoceros (50th) – Eugene Ionesco
  • The Town and the City (60th) – Jack Kerouac
  • Immortality (20th) – Milan Kundera
  • Devil in a Blue Dress (20th) – Walter Mosley
  • Skinny Legs and All (20th) – Tom Robbins
  • Cosmos (30th) – Carl Sagan
  • The Bachelors (50th) – Muriel Spark
  • The Ballad of Peckham Road (50th) – Muriel Spark
  • The Snake’s Pass (120th) – Bram Stoker
  • The Sleeper Awakes (100th) – H.G. Wells
  • Jeeves in the Offing (50th) – P.G. Wodehouse

Complete:

  • The Restaurant at the End of the Universe (30th) – Douglas Adams
  • I, Robot (60th) – Isaac Asimov
  • The Handmaid’s Tale (25th) – Margaret Atwood
  • Martian Chronicles (60th) – Ray Bradbury
  • Ender’s Game (25th) – Orson Scott Card
  • The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay (10th) – Michael Chabon
  • Farewell, My Lovely (70th) – Raymond Chandler
  • The Sign of Four (120th) – Arthur Conan Doyle
  • Baudolino (10th) – Umberto Eco
  • The Name of the Rose (30th) – Umberto Eco
  • LA Confidential (20th) – James Ellroy
  • As I Lay Dying (80th) – William Faulkner
  • Love in the Time of Cholera (25th) – Gabriel García Márquez
  • The Difference Engine (20th) – William Gibson and Bruce Sterling
  • The Marble Faun (150th) – Nathaniel Hawthorne
  • For Whom the Bell Tolls (70th) – Ernest Hemingway
  • The Cider House Rules (25th) – John Irving
  • Tristessa (50th) – Jack Kerouac
  • To Kill a Mockingbird (50th) – Harper Lee
  • A Canticle for Leibowitz (50th) – Walter M. Miller
  • Ringworld (40th) – Larry Niven
  • The Violent Bear It Away (50th) – Flannery O’Connor
  • Hemingway’s Chair (15th) – Michael Palin
  • Good Omens (20th) – Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
  • Still Life with Woodpecker (30th) – Tom Robbins
  • Contact (25th) – Carl Sagan
  • Green Eggs and Ham (50th) – Dr. Seuss
  • One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish (50th) – Dr. Seuss
  • Zeitgeist (10th) – Bruce Sterling
  • The Artificial Kid (30th) – Bruce Sterling
  • A Confederacy of Dunces (30th) – John Kennedy Toole
  • The Accidental Tourist (25th) – Anne Tyler
  • Hocus Pocus (20th) – Kurt Vonnegut
  • The Age of Innocence (90th) – Edith Wharton
  • Mrs. Dalloway (85th) – Virginia Woolf

On Gutenberg 8/8/09

Madame De Treymes (1907) by Edith Wharton (short story).

She spoke quite easily and naturally, as if it were the most commonplace thing in the world for them to be straying afoot together over Paris; but even his vague knowledge of the world she lived in–a knowledge mainly acquired through the perusal of yellow-backed fiction–gave a thrilling significance to her naturalness. Durham, indeed, was beginning to find that one of the charms of a sophisticated society is that it lends point and perspective to the slightest contact between the sexes. If, in the old unrestricted New York days, Fanny Frisbee, from a brown stone door-step, had proposed that they should take a walk in the Park, the idea would have presented itself to her companion as agreeable but unimportant; whereas Fanny de Malrive’s suggestion that they should stroll across the Tuileries was obviously fraught with unspecified possibilities.

Artemis to Actaeon, and Other Verses (1909) by Edith Wharton (poetry collection).

I quivered in the reed-bed with my kind, Rooted in Lethe-bank, when at the dawn There came a groping shape of mystery Moving among us, that with random stroke Severed, and rapt me from my silent tribe, Pierced, fashioned, lipped me, sounding for a voice, Laughing on Lethe-bank–and in my throat I felt the wing-beat of the fledgeling notes, The bubble of godlike laughter in my throat.

A Wodehouse Miscellany (2003) by PG Wodehouse (collection of articles, poems, and stories; public domain texts compiled by Gutenberg).

To the thinking man there are few things more disturbing than the realization that we are becoming a nation of minor poets. In the good old days poets were for the most part confined to garrets, which they left only for the purpose of being ejected from the offices of magazines and papers to which they attempted to sell their wares. Nobody ever thought of reading a book of poems unless accompanied by a guarantee from the publisher that the author had been dead at least a hundred years. Poetry, like wine, certain brands of cheese, and public buildings, was rightly considered to improve with age; and no connoisseur could have dreamed of filling himself with raw, indigestible verse, warm from the maker.