Editors Select

Hard Bottom tells that old American story of the solitary struggler, but this
version is new, and it is dazzling. Michelsen climbs right into the skin of
Ollie Cahoon, failing commercial fisherman, and makes his pain a pain that
matters, not just to him, but to anybody who cares about struggling to
maintain a soul in a corporate age. The story's told in a language that is
precise, tough and -- when it comes to the sea -- magical. A portion of Hard
Bottom appeared in NDR 7.
Two novels by two graduates of Notre Dame's graduate creative writing program.
Collins' novel was shortlisted for the Booker Prize when it first appeared in
its British edition. Jonathan Raban called it "an expert and witty homage to
the noir American Thriller and a wonderfully observant and affecting portrait
of America in its once -- and future -- decline" and "an unflaggingly
brilliant stylistic performance. I can think of no other writer who rises to
such heights of lavish eloquence even as he remains so very cool and
ironically self-aware." Coyne's novel, his first, is a fine
coming-into-manhood story and a damn good golf novel. It's also a long clean
swing at the old myths about family and class and making it. A film version
will appear in 2002.
Schmidt's second delicious collection of short stories, the first being The
Rose Thieves
. Witty, insightful, full of likely characters behaving in
unlikely ways. In the story "Wild Rice," a writer accedes to an invitation to
teach at a summer conference. Schmidt writes, "I hate to dash any pleasure,
even a spider's, even when I'm the fly." Luckily, we can all be ensnared in
her wonderful web.
A first collection of gracefully stolid stories, full of hard choices and hard
lives. A new generation confronts life at the end of the 20th century,
dealing with the disintegration of old traditions, but not free of old
conditions, love, divorce, aging, alcoholism, and jobs made temporary by
design and circumstances. An impressive debut.
A first novel, by a writer of an award winning collection of short stories
(Useful Gifts) praised by Richard Elman as "rowdy and poignant with feelings
and smarting hilarity," returns to life and memories of New York City in the
1950s, in and around a boisterous Brooklyn, detailing the marital history of
the Arnows, Chenia and Ruben, told by their daughter Devorah. The Ocean the
characters swim toward is mortality and the novel is a gift to the mother by
the daughter, one affecting for both its language and its pluming of family
relationships and their lasting costs and rewards.
Another first novel, this one set in Japan, where American teachers confront
cultural barriers and the urge to breach them. Under daily dusting of ash
from the increasingly active volcano Sakurajima, the displaced New Englander
befriends a group of windsurfers, parries with her new boyfriend, Hiroshi,
and, in a fateful meeting, encounters a half Japanese teenager, Naomi, who is
also battling a double identity. Thompson writes movingly about a Japan that
is not sleek and urban, nor the older stereotyped domain of geisha and
samurai, and about characters who straddle that new world.
A new kind of literary anthology, a number of writers brought together in the
form of letters to their fathers, expressing a generational plea of son and
daughter to the old man, a mixture of autobiography, psychological insight and
practise, love and the balm or fire of memory, all brought to bear on the
essential question of who they are and why that might be.
NDR frequent contributor Skillings' first novel (not counting the novella
Obsidian) is set in Provincetown during the AIDS ravaged 1980s. This is an
erudite and searing threnody for a time and place, full of characters bursting
with life and the heart-rending exfoliations of their deaths. One of the best
first novels of the year.
Anyone interested in the art of poetry at Notre Dame already knows Ernest
Sandeen's work. An earlier collected poems appeared in 1977 and was
followed by A Later Day, Another Year in 1988 and Can These Bones Live ? in
1994. The present volume adds the poems from these last two books to the
contents of the 1977 collection. This means that all the poetry Ernest
Sandeen wished to keep in print is finally available in a single book. The
volume is beautifully produced and includes a helpful introduction by
Edward Vasta and a preface by Robert Pinsky. Sandeen's work was always
central to everything happening in the Notre Dame literary community, but
only occasionally, in spite of regular publications in journals like The
New Yorker, Poetry, and The Hudson Review, did his reputation seem to
extend beyond the university. This book should make clear that Sandeen,
despite and maybe because of his modesty and isolation, was one of the best
poets of his generation. Robert Hass got it exactly right when he said that
Sandeen's work "has a sort of sweet gravity to it that makes you feel that
the poet was a genuinely wise man. You feel that in his craft as much as in
anything else, that the poem says what it needs to say, so that not needing
to show off is a form of beauty. There is a kind of seriousness and grace."
Janet Holmes's The Green Tuxedo won the 1999 Ernest Sandeen Prize in Poetry.
Humanophone is possibly even better than that remarkable book. The main
attraction is a series of poems about composers and music. These poems
develop a musician's analog to the venerable Ut pictura Poesis tradition,
or the notion of Ecphrasis. In poems like "Celebration on the Planet Mars"
(about Raymond Scott), "Humanophone" (about George and Charles Ives) and
the concluding "Parch Stations" (abut Harry Partch), she has done something
really original. These composers all had to invent new instruments before
they could play the music they heard in their minds. The analogy with the
poem in the mind--and the new form it must take--is clear. "How easy to be
orthodox: harder, / to hear, with his absolute pitch, / sounds new rather
than wrong" she writes of George Ives. W.S. Merwin says that "music in
these pieces becomes a metaphor, a true metaphor that cannot be paraphrased
but sends out its illuminating beams over the singularity of our lives."
Readers of Ferry's Odes of Horace (1997) and The Eclogues of Virgil
(1999) will certainly want to read his versions of The Epistles. Written
mostly in iambics rather than an approximation in English of Horace's Latin
hexameters, Ferry's translations attempt to capture the voice that he says
is "the life of these poems: so free, so confident, so knowledgeable about
himself, and about work, so contemptuous of pretense, so entertaining, so
joyful. The voice is an invention, of course, or a playing field of
inventions, but it gives the illusion of speaking to us as we hear it with
a startlingly familiar immediacy."
Carson's "Tangos" are in fact a cycle of poems that picks up
about where her previous book, Men in the Off Hours, concludes. In some
ways it is also a long dialogue with Keats. Well-known as classical
scholar as well as a poet, Carson is about as smart writing about eros as
anyone around. Her books certainly should be read in the context of her
brilliant Eros the Bittersweet, reprinted by Dalkey Archive in 1998 and
still available.

This is Simic's wry and touching memoir about growing up in war-torn Belgrade,
post-war Paris, New York and Chicago. As a kid on the street in all these
cities, he developed a passionate appetite for literature and became,
rather to his surprise, the poet Charles Simic. The poet has been writing a
lot of prose recently, and it is all worth reading. This is a fascinating
book.