Sunday, November 01, 2009
Lydia the Tattoed Lady
I don’t (yet) own any of her books, but a couple weeks ago I totally fell in love with Lydia Davis through reading the review of “The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis" (Farrar, Straus & Giroux; $30) in The New Yorker. Then there was the marvelous interview in The Believer, where I felt a nice kindred-spirit-ship (spiritship?) with her over her taste in literature and how she feels about writing. I’m just not used to people liking Beckett for the reasons she likes Beckett. I liked that.
Last week I met another Lydia through an interview, this time in The Rumpus (more weird kinshipness, over the fact that a year ago author and founding editor Stephen Elliott came to my writing workshop (taught by Jonathan Ames), and not long after I was attending a fundraiser for getting The Rumpus started with classmates. Of course, there’s also the connection with Richard Nash, who I’ve been working with on his startup Cursor since he left Soft Skull, and so really it all feels very unreal — the way worlds tend to collide. But I suppose we all make our own tiny worlds.
Lydia Millet’s interview in The Rumpus is just so charming, so intriguing, “I’m full of hope, I have to be. I can’t believe all this loveliness will wink out.” So now I’m dying to read both “Oh Pure and Radiant Heart"and at the very least, “Love in Infant Monkeys: Stories.”
The title of this post is because I have the Groucho Marx song (youtube link) in my head, “she was the most glorious creature under the sun...”
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