Word: novelistic
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...grandmother, Flora Tristan, was a spiritual fugitive of another kind, a pre-Marxist socialist visionary who traveled across provincial France in the 1840s, preaching a gospel of class justice and the liberation of women. In The Way to Paradise (Farrar, Straus & Giroux; 373 pages) Mario Vargas Llosa, the Peruvian novelist, onetime presidential hopeful and perennial Nobel candidate, lightly fictionalizes their stories in alternating chapters, portraits of two literally kindred souls in revolt against the horsewhips and hypocrisy of the bourgeois order. Both of them rejected the world as they found it--repressed, greedy, deaf to the higher (or lower) impulses...
From the age of 10, Meehan was set on becoming a writer, and he went to college fully expecting to be a "serious" novelist one day. At Hamilton College in upstate New York, he earned the senior writing prize of $350 before graduating and moving to New York City. By age 24, he had landed a job at the New Yorker, where his first editor, Roger Angell, remembers him as being "terrifically funny" even then...
...Modern Indians regard Nehru with more ambivalence. As novelist Shashi Tharoor points out in his new biography, Nehru: The Invention of India, the architect of modern India turned his country into a democracy and an industrial giant but also shackled it to a heavily regulated socialist economy. If Nehru managed to fuse a disparate jumble of regions and principalities into a united nation, he also bequeathed India its most serious political problem, the insurgency in Kashmir. Although Tharoor's biography lacks the exhaustiveness and depth of some of its predecessors, its attitude is perfect for the times. Writes Tharoor, "What...
...maybe Garcia Marquez did not have to bend them much. The Nobel-prizewinning Colombian novelist has always maintained that he was not a magic realist but just a writer making the most of the lavish realities of Latin America. After reading his abundant new memoir, Living to Tell the Tale (Knopf; 484 pages), you'll be inclined to agree. In a warm but largely matter-of-fact style, he recalls the headless man who rode past one day on a donkey, killed by a machete in a settling of accounts on the nearby banana plantation. Then there was the fishing...
...then he went on his own. He seems to have remembered?and understood?everything he's seen... 'People ask if my love of movies can be too much,' he says. 'What annoys me about the question is the snobbery; it treats movies like a bastard art form. Could a novelist ever read too many books, or a musician listen to too much music? Well, I totally love movies...