Word: novelists
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...spot inside where he stored his wounds." And here is Alice's tiny daughter putting a clammy hand on her arm and trying to console her: "When I was your mom and you were a baby, I beed sweet and nice." This is very good stuff by a novelist whose momentum seems unstoppable...
...only erotica functions differently. If it works, sexual arousal is real, not imaginary. And if it doesn't work? The most recent example is Harold Brodkey's novel Profane Friendship (Farrar, Straus & Giroux; 387 pages). The author tells of a long, intensely erotic affair between the narrator, an American novelist named Nino, and an Italian named Onni. The names are anagrams of each other -- different stirrings of the same ingredients, including the same...
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Nobel-prizewinning novelist and freshly returned exile to Russia, sat in the Musical Comedy Theater of the Far Eastern city of Khabarovsk and carefully jotted down their comments in a black notebook. He had chosen to return to Moscow via a long cross-country train trip lasting several weeks, stopping in towns along the way to greet the locals and listen to their complaints. When he arrived later at Blagoveshchensk, he was surprised to see 200 well-wishers. "I didn't expect there would be so many people," Solzhenitsyn said. "I say this everywhere, and I want...
...pieces -- and in his stage plays (Sufficient Carbohydrate), screenplays (Track 29) and novels (Ticket to Ride) -- Potter did see things under the aspect of eternity. Novelist Julian Barnes aptly described him as "a Christian socialist with a running edge of apocalyptic disgust." Christian, yes, in residue. Though Potter gave ecclesiastics the willies with his God play (Son of Man) and his Devil play (Brimstone and Treacle), he could still recite, as meaningfully as if it were a pop standard, the words to an old hymn: "Will there be any stars, any stars in my crown?" Socialist, yes, decrying British mercantilism...
...Nichols and the writers (novelist Jim Harrison and Wesley Strick) are treading a fine high wire; one misstep and off you tumble into self-satire, the modern horror film's omnipresent danger. But by provoking authentic laughter with their satirical thrusts at current corporate styles (Spader is a hilarious model of yuppie unctuousness), they make sure we are amused often and always at the right moments. If Nichols had less skill, we would crack up when the moon is full and Nicholson's stunt double starts leaping around the countryside, but using low light and slow motion, the director displays...