As the sharp, biting winds and dark days of November approach, I spend more and more time reading in the evenings. Considering that my shorter days are usually spent in front of a computer screen, manipulating Excel spreadsheets and organizing meetings for my job, print books have become more and more appealing. However, I always feel inclined to keep up with my publishing newsletters, especially as they add content like Halloween reads, bitter book reviews, and fierce author tell-alls. Here are a few articles that caught my attention during the peak of fall:
10 Frightening Facts About Shirley Jackson’s We Have Always Lived in the Castle (April Snellings, Mental Floss)
…”a master class in mystery and ambiguity…”
I first read this spine-tingling, bone-chilling account of two isolated sisters during—quite fittingly—a seminar on sisterhood in my freshman year of college. There’s something quite off about the extremely close relationship between Merricat and Constance, who pass their days alone in their family’s abandoned mansion. When the truth about their family’s past was unveiled to me at the end, I realized just how thoroughly I was manipulated by Merricat’s unreliable narration. This article provides some background on Shirley Jackson, the genius behind the twisted tale. While it’s fair enough to argue that these author profiles often strip books of their magic by revealing the “woman behind the curtain,” so to speak, I always enjoy situating books in their social and historical context.
When the Times Book Review Panned the Classics (Jennifer Harlan, The New York Times)
“It is a book one can very well get along without reading.”
Hmm, I wonder who wrote the line above…and which book they were writing about. Did you know that NYT book critics were once under no obligation to put their names on their book reviews, which essentially allowed them the “creative freedom” to be as “brutally honest” as they wanted to be about new releases? Ouch! I got a great kick out of this compilation of quotes from newspaper critics of the past. Harlan points out that not even the most beloved classics, like Anne of Green Gables or Tender is the Night, were exempt from reviewers’ ruthless wordsmithing.
David Sedaris discusses prison pen pals, pandemic sensitivities and that apology he’s never going to give (Rachel Rosenblit, The Washington Post)
“I reserve the right to think all of the hateful things I want…I don’t know what else I could possibly say to people.”
David Sedaris is my favorite humor writer, pure and simple. In my opinion, there will never be anyone so “stick-everything-on-the-line-and-give-critics-the-middle-finger. ” If you haven’t read Holidays on Ice or Me Talk Pretty One Day, PLEASE do yourself a favor and treat yourself to a few hours of side-splitting laughter. In this interview, wherein he showcases what Rosenblit describes as his “colorful, caustic yarns,” Sedaris touches on topics such as writing about the alcoholism in his family and the “moral righteousness” of feeling outraged at lazy employees.
Harrowing Halloween Recommendations from NYPL’s Horror Committee (Isaiah Pittman, Inwood Library)
“The New York Public Library’s Horror Committee is here to take you by the (skeletal, clawed, and/or tentacled) hand and serve as your guide through forbidden forests, pumpkin patches and haunted houses.”
Looking for a last-minute spooky movie or read before Halloween comes and goes? Look no further than the list curated by the New York Public Library. They recommend everything from the mildly hair-raising to the positively grotesque. My personal favorite from the list is Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw; a recommendation from the list I’ll have to read in the future is The Monk by Matthew Lewis. When I’m in the mood to be scared (which I’ll admit isn’t very often), I tend to gravitate toward novels with deplorable protagonists and an eerie, overarching sense that the trauma of a horrible past is slowly consuming them. I can’t stomach horror films, but the NYPL also has quite a few recommendations if you’re interested in those.
