lamorbidezza: Kristen Mcmenamy at the finale of McQ Fall 2012 



lamorbidezza:

Kristen Mcmenamy at the finale of McQ Fall 2012 

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prostheticknowledge: AiweiweiSimple app by Cosmical Liu…





prostheticknowledge:

Aiweiwei

Simple app by Cosmical Liu recreates Ai Weiwei’s “Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn”, using the smartphones accelerometer to mess with the physics:

Download it here

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Molly Picon

MollyPicon-RadioGirl-HiloToo Jewish for ethnically repressed Hollywood.
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prostheticknowledge: An Embroidery of VoidsMoving video collage…





prostheticknowledge:

An Embroidery of Voids

Moving video collage by New Zealand artist Daniel Crooks features first person footage segments of various alleyways which are placed together.

The GIFs above don’t do the actual video justice (it is far slower paced and richer in detail), and sadly cannot embed the video, but you can see it for yourself here

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berfrois: Live long and prosper. — Leonard Nimoy (March 26 1931…



berfrois:

Live long and prosper. — Leonard Nimoy (March 26 1931 – February 27 2015)

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Erotische Flugblaetter

I was working in Memorial Library yesterday. Whenever I’m over there, I like to pull a book off the shelf and look at it.  (E.G.) I feel I have some kind of duty to the books — there are so many which will never be taken off the shelf again!

Anyway, there has never been an easier choice than Flugblatt-Propaganda Im 2.Weltkrieg:  Erotische Flugblätter.  How was I not supposed to look at that!  And I was richly rewarded.  The Nazi propagandists knew their business; the leaflets are written in perfect colloquial English, assuring American troops that the US government is purposely prolonging the war to keep unemployment low at home, that their kids and wives are pleading for them to come home alive by any means necessary (especially:  surrendering and riding out the rest of the war in a comfy German POW camp, with movies, sports, and the same food the German soldiers get) and, most of all, that their girlfriends back home, tired of waiting, are taking up with draft-dodgers and war-profiteers (especially the ruthless “Sam Levy.”)  UK troops got their own version:  their girlfriends weren’t making time with shifty Jews, but with US soldiers, who were “training” in England while the British men died at the front.

Some highlights:

photo 3 photo 2 photo 1


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Code-X (51)

converseSnap Out of It
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lacrone:Disney Alphabet – I for Iridessa I started this Tumblr…



lacrone:

Disney Alphabet - I for Iridessa

I started this Tumblr when a friend and I were discussing the new book, The Twee Tribe. She commented that she could not imagine a subset made up of people of African descent. So I made this Tumblr to post things to show her what African American Twee Tribe members would like. I don’t claim to know what every twee person of color would like, but I do know that I enjoy the “twee” now and again and I’m African American. 

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130186:Emilio de la Morena Fall 2015 Is there a Goth…



130186:

Emilio de la Morena Fall 2015

Is there a Goth Talbot’s? i’d wear this

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Dear Internet, Would someone please make a reedit of gifs from…







Dear Internet, 

Would someone please make a reedit of gifs from FSOG and insert shots of barely clothed Charlie Hunnam?


Thank you, 

LA Crone

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[x]#empirewelp, golly.









[x]

#empire

welp, golly.

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the-two-germanys:”Man in the Hand of Nature” Taken by the…



the-two-germanys:

"Man in the Hand of Nature" Taken by the Luxembourg Gallery.

Rose O’Neill’s Sculptured Drawings: The woman who made funny Kewpies astonished Paris with her powerful Symbolism

Edythe H. Brown
New York: The John Lane Co., 1922.

"yow," says Zippie!

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the-two-germanys:”L’offrande”, by Malvina Hoffman.The…



the-two-germanys:

"L’offrande", by Malvina Hoffman.

The Offering

Gertrude Nason Carver
New York: The John Lane Co., 1922.

Look, it’s Fifty Shades of Marble…

La Hoffman studied with Rodin in Paris. She based this sculpture on a Tom Verlaine poem called “Offrande,” giving visual manifestation to the poem’s first sentence: “Voici des fruits, des fleurs, des feuilles et des branches et puis voici mon coeur qui ne bat que pour vous.”

Lire la suite: http://www.greatsong.net/PAROLES-MARIE-NICOLE-LEMIEUX,OFFRANDE-POEME-DE-PAUL-VERLAINE,101004816.html  The Getty Institute has Hoffman’s archives! Everything lives in Los Angeles! 

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the-two-germanys:Carnival. Port-of-Spain, Trinidad, British West…



the-two-germanys:

Carnival. Port-of-Spain, Trinidad, British West Indies.
Postcard, British West Indies.

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gifopera: a wavering inspiration(some content adapted from…



gifopera:

a wavering inspiration

(some content adapted from here)

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‘Pics or it didn’t happen’ – the mantra of the Instagram…



‘Pics or it didn’t happen’ – the mantra of the Instagram era

Sharing itself becomes personhood, with activities taking on meaning not for their basic content but for the way they are turned into content, disseminated through the digital network, and responded to.

[cf An Elixir of Reminding: “Nostalgia is the negation of death, it proves we are still living even without an identifiable future. Instagram is a machine for producing instant nostalgia, a ward against death.”]

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Jackie Gleason

Jackie-Gleason-9542440-1-402Like a brutal ballet dancer.
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Ceci est une pipe (17)

1962 fallout shelterFallout Shelter Gemütlichkeit!
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scribe4haxan: Tamara and the Demon (1917) ~ by Nikolai Kalmakov…



scribe4haxan:

Tamara and the Demon (1917) ~ by Nikolai Kalmakov…

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satanstruemistress:To be honest, Rollo with his hair in a…



satanstruemistress:

To be honest, Rollo with his hair in a ponytail like this is all that I’ve ever wanted out of life.

too true. nothing like a hot sweaty man bun

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“[Judith] Butler, as Kreon, was hilarious: small in stature, gigantic in influence. As the voice of…”

“[Judith] Butler, as Kreon, was hilarious: small in stature, gigantic in influence. As the voice of the chorus, Carson was characteristically otherworldly. She stood very still and upright, eyebrows perpetually slightly raised. She did not, by contrast, seem to enjoy the mandatory postperformance Q. and A. The stage was full of academics. There were roughly 34,000 questions about Hegel, most of which Butler fielded. Carson, in the brief moments she couldn’t avoid speaking, kept bouncing questions back to the audience. Her most memorable contribution was the delivery, out of nowhere, of a terrible joke. ‘Where do otters come from?’ she asked, and then without pause or inflection delivered the punch line: ‘otter space.’”

- nyt (via sparklesdire)
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kenyaworkspace:Oh. So. CHEEKY. #cookiemonsters



kenyaworkspace:

Oh. So. CHEEKY. #cookiemonsters

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prostheticknowledge: How Canada pioneered the GIF event,…

















prostheticknowledge:

How Canada pioneered the GIF event, bringing net art away from the desktop and into a show

A piece I put together for booooooom on a monthly event celebrating female pop icons called Sheroes, which integrated Net Art from around the world:

Back in 2012 the Photographers Gallery, London, was smart enough put together a major show about the format ‘Born In 1987‘, but before this all became fashionable in the art world, an organizer and artist from Toronto saw the potential of integrating this format into real-world events and collaborated with another artist whose medium of choice is the GIF itself, curating a collection of works created on a computer by artists from around the world, and projected on walls to accompany the surroundings.

The show was called ‘Sheroes’, a monthly event started in 2011 to 2012 that each month focused on female pop-icons ranging from Nina Simone, Erykah Badu, Yoko Ono, Madonna, Dusty Springfield or Dolly Parton, a range of artists whose distinct talents enriched pop culture, a “League of Legendary Ladies”. Here I will talk to Rea McNamara and Lorna Mills about the origins of this emerging scene and how it all started.

You can read more at BOOOOOOOM! here

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hantisedeloubli: My hair and this bathing suit are a match made…



hantisedeloubli:

My hair and this bathing suit are a match made in mermaid heaven.

Mermaid bottoms are from chubbycartwheels

NOT FOR PORN, BBW, FETISH OR WHATEVER BLOGS. I don’t care what nomenclature you have for your blog. If you post a lot of explicit content, don’t reblog me. I think I’ve made myself clear.

love love love

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nitratediva: Cary Grant in His Girl Friday (1940).



nitratediva:

Cary Grant in His Girl Friday (1940).

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Air Bridge (4)

innes thumb"This air engine of yours — you didn’t design it, did you."
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Disney Alphabet – I for Iridessa I started this Tumblr when a…



Disney Alphabet - I for Iridessa

I started this Tumblr when a friend and I were discussing the new book, The Twee Tribe. She commented that she could not imagine a subset made up of people of African descent. So I made this Tumblr to post things to show her what African American Twee Tribe members would like. I don’t claim to know what every twee person of color would like, but I do know that I enjoy the “twee” now and again and I’m African American. 

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beautiesofafrique:Chiefs at Voodoo Festival 2009 in Ouidah ||…



beautiesofafrique:

Chiefs at Voodoo Festival 2009 in Ouidah || Benin || West Africa || © Luca Gargano

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icancauseaconstellation: Joan Brossa



icancauseaconstellation:

Joan Brossa

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icancauseaconstellation: The Milanese. » Welded gas pipe…



icancauseaconstellation:

The Milanese. » Welded gas pipe cantilever pipe chair, Mart Stam, 1926.

on chairs

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emptiness-and-solitude: Parallels Follow My Blog For More ☥





















emptiness-and-solitude:

Parallels

Follow My Blog For More ☥

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The High Wire (17)

the-high-wire‘That’s a very brave scoundrel.’
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“APPLETON, Wis. — A woman who grew up here is getting her due and a little less harassment after…”

APPLETON, Wis. — A woman who grew up here is getting her due and a little less harassment after author John Green publicly resolved the mystery of a misattributed quote. Melody Truong posted the quote on her Tumblr page when she was 13 years old: “I’m in love with cities I’ve never been to and people I’ve never met.” Someone attributed the phrase to Green, a New York Times bestselling author known most recently for his book The Fault in our Stars.

….She was born in Long Beach, Calif., but her family moved to Appleton, where she grew up. She felt out of place when she wrote the now-famous words.

"There were a lot of times when I would think about this future place/city that I would be able to call home and be able to love and flourish in. I also had extreme wanderlust and still am very fascinated by the world and its cultures and people," she said.

Green’s company DFTBA (the abbreviation for ‘Don’t Forget to be Awesome’) recently started selling a poster with the quote.

"That’s when I felt like I should maybe speak up about the situation," Truong said.

DFTBA rectified the error by paying Truong royalties for the poster — those sold in the past or from now on. The company is also selling a piece of Truong’s artwork, for which she will receive all the royalties.

People harassed Truong online about the quote, but she said the angry messages decreased after Green explained the mix-up on YouTube….He didn’t remember writing the quote, “but then again I don’t remember writing a lot of Paper Towns — that book came out seven years ago,” he said in the video.

Green acknowledged the mistake, and took it as an opportunity to address fact-checking in the Internet age.



- Best-selling author reimburses student for quote
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installator: “It’s not every day that Van Gogh’s The Sunflowers…



installator:

"It’s not every day that Van Gogh’s The Sunflowers arrives in Dubai. Although this is an exact reproduction made using a highly technical 3D printer, it still holds instrinsic value." (thenational.ae)

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chaosophia218: Detail from “The Goetia: The Lesser Key of…



chaosophia218:

Detail from “The Goetia: The Lesser Key of Solomon the King.”

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Tetsumi Kudo

kudoCatastrophic collage boxes and birdcages.
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The Sunday Series: Sunday No. 7



Sunday no. 7

A Sunday in the park, and who knows what we will see or experience at Griffith Park.  My wife and I wandered through the park without a plan or thought in our head.   We didn’t even do it for exercise, but more of a thought that we can discover something new in our lives.   Even though it was a sunny morning, there was something dark about the way the plants greeted us as we enter its kingdom.   Park Rangers managed to put speakers throughout the park, where they played Brahms 4th Symphony, which I have to say, is one of my favorite pieces of music.   The grandness of the melodies in this specific symphony matched the moodiness of the park itself. 



As we walked past the abandoned or closed merry-go-round, I felt a tinge of fear in my chest. I didn’t say anything to my wife, because I didn’t want to admit to her what I was feeling.  I knew from the very moment I opened my eyes, that we would go for this walk.  I sought to put it off, but she was very convincing that this activity would be good for the both of us.  “a healthy body makes a healthy mind,” someone once said, and I’m not sure if the author of that quote is still here with us.  Nevertheless, the first sense that came to me was the smell of fresh horseshit on the dirt walking path.  I also understand why people walk together in these hills, because for one, it is very easy to get lost, and two, if you fall down a hill, you may stay there till death takes over. 


As we walked on the pathway, I was trying to imagine what is around the corner.  The total unknown aspect was slightly scary to me.   As we walked on the pathway to whatever it is, I kept hearing sounds on the side of the hill.   We stopped, and looked at the direction and I can make out what we think was a human figure behind a tree.  It didn’t move, so we didn’t move.  After awhile, we stood there silently and chose to move on.  Around the bend we saw what looked like a skeleton of a dead animal.  My wife thought it looked like a human’s skeleton, but I thought “No, that’s not possible.” I took a stick to move the bones around, and I was convinced that it was an animal, but it must have been a large animal.  Perhaps an ape?  Are there wild apes at Griffith Park?



As we went further down the pathway, we saw a side of the landscape that looked like it had small tunnels, but were actually holes.  Me, being me, wanted to stick my hand in the hole to see what would happen.   I did so, and I touched something that felt like fur, but also it seemed dead.  By instinct I tried to pull the fur object out of the hole, but it wouldn’t budge out of the tight area.  My wife told me to stop, and after 26 years of marriage I did so.  Still, once I pulled my hand out of the hole, I smelled my fingers and there was a scent on it that seemed like death to me.  Then again, it could have just been the smell of my clear nail polish. 



Nature being natural, always struck me as an artificial world.  Once a human stomps on the side of nature, it becomes a mere representation of what we think is “nature.” When I put my hand in the hole or perhaps it is even a gopher’s entrance to an inner world, I still wanted to touch something that was part of another world. Clearly I don’t belong here.  Nor does anyone else.   For nature to be natural, it needs to be separate from the rest of the urban world. 




As I write, I ‘m surrounded by plastic plants, because I like the idea of nature, but I prefer the representation of it.  For one, these artificial plants will never die.  And two, the death of nature is very disturbing to me.  I walk in the park, and all I see is death.  Beautiful death, but nevertheless, death.  
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pixography: Thomas Woodruff ~ “Secret Charts” Woodruff’s good…















pixography:

Thomas Woodruff ~ “Secret Charts

Woodruff’s good friend, photographer Scott Heiser, was dying in the hospital.  Although his death was harrowing, Scott remained brave as his body transformed in ways Woodruff had not thought possible.  After Scott’s death, Woodruff began a series of 26 paintings—an alphabet of grief—in the form of scrolls, treasure maps, or floor cloths from some obscure secret fraternal society.  With attendant birds as a form of Greek chorus, the series was created in order from Figure A to Figure X.  Woodruff allowed himself to incorporate imagery from many sources, including cartoons, rebuses, freemasonry, and game boards.  In viewing the entire series, the traditional stages of grieving are hidden beneath the “skin” of each scroll.

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itscolossal: CT Scan of 1,000-Year-Old Buddha Statue Reveals…





itscolossal:

CT Scan of 1,000-Year-Old Buddha Statue Reveals Mummified Monk Hidden Inside

What looks like a traditional statue of Buddha dating back to the 11th or 12th century was recently revealed to be quite a bit more. A CT scan and endoscopy carried out by the Netherlands-based Drents Museum at the Meander Medical Centre in Amersfoort, showed the ancient reliquary fully encases the mummified remains of a Buddhist master known as Liuquan of the Chinese Meditation School. [more…]

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new-aesthetic: People walking around when talking on their…



new-aesthetic:

People walking around when talking on their mobile phone is a common behavior. Referred to as “Cell Trance” in the Urban Dictionnary2, this way of moving back and forth is often seen in public venues such as hallways, sidewalks, train platforms, bus stops or shopping malls. To onlookers, the erratic perambulation looks aimless, as if the caller is detached from his surroundings, absorbed in a private sonic universe.

From Curious Rituals, a book about “gestural interaction in the digital everyday”, by Nicolas Nova, Katherine Miyake, Waton Chiu and Nancy Kwon.

via Alexis Madrigal and Jesper Balslev

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Boxes of Organized Knowledge

A really lovely piece by Blake Morrison on Anthony Burgess as book reviewer.
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People walking around when talking on their mobile phone is a…



People walking around when talking on their mobile phone is a common behavior. Referred to as “Cell Trance” in the Urban Dictionnary2, this way of moving back and forth is often seen in public venues such as hallways, sidewalks, train platforms, bus stops or shopping malls. To onlookers, the erratic perambulation looks aimless, as if the caller is detached from his surroundings, absorbed in a private sonic universe.

From Curious Rituals, a book about “gestural interaction in the digital everyday”, by Nicolas Nova, Katherine Miyake, Waton Chiu and Nancy Kwon.

via Alexis Madrigal and Jesper Balslev

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Meridel Le Sueur

meridelThe world isn't worth selling your soul for.
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“Lichtenstein does not torture the paint”

Frederic Tuten on Roy Lichtenstein's studio:
Others could explain more precisely about his process. It started with an outline on the canvas for what would become the painting. He would fill in the spaces with colored paper cutouts, and tape them in place to see how they would look. He’d move the cutouts around until he decided what worked. There was a template for the dots too. So even before the actual painting process began there was a collage of how it would eventually look. His was the exact opposite of the Abstract Expressionists’ aesthetic, which was supposedly the personality of the artist declared on the canvas. His personality was in paintings, but certainly not bombastically so. Roy’s work was very organized, systematic, and intelligent. Nothing left to chance. It was all deliberate, like when he made the “Brushstroke” series. These paintings are a bit of a joke about Abstract Expressionism, because the brush stroke, the rhythm, the swipe, all that was premeditated—as if to say, this is how spontaneity can be engineered.
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“Brook your ire!”/toga-speech

At the FT, Simon Schama on what historians think of historical novels (site registration required):
Those who start in the thick of it, I like best of all. The writer who made me want to be an historian was Columbia University professor Garrett Mattingly. In 1959, he published The Defeat of the Spanish Armada, which has the imaginative grip of a novel but is grounded on the bedrock of the archives. It begins with a name the significance of which we, as yet, have absolutely no idea; with an exactly visualised place. Through the repetition of a single word “Nobody,” we hear the tolling of a bell ringing the doom of someone or other.
“Mr Beale had not brought the warrant until Sunday evening but by Wednesday morning, before dawn outlines its high windows, the great hall of Fotheringhay was ready. Though the Earl of Shrewsbury had returned only the day before nobody wanted any more delay. Nobody knew what messenger might be riding on the London road. Nobody knew which of the others might not weaken if they wanted another.”
What is this? Who is this? Where are we? You want to read on, don’t you? So you do so with the intense excitement of knowing every word is true.
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Closing tabs

Lost a very dear family member on Friday to cancer (metastatic melanoma, diagnosed in the days just before Christmas): my mother's husband Jim Kilik. Will write a proper memorial for him in a few days; in the meantime we are really just mourning (I will go to Philadelphia tomorrow to be with my mother for a bit).

I have accumulated a dreadful backlog of links and light reading: even the thought of logging it makes me want to lie down in a darkened room with a moist towel over my eyes! But it must be done before I can get my head around the many other writing-related things that need to happen round here....

Ta-Nehisi Coates on what he owed to David Carr.

Edward P. Jones profiled in the Washington Post.

Todd Gitlin on the enlightenment project.

A brief memorial for the linguist and novelist Suzette Haden Elgin, whose novel Native Tongue made a huge impression on me when I read it at age thirteen or fourteen.

The fantastical imagining of Hungarian paper money.

Eating chocolate in space.

Several independent things this past week prompted me to think of the lovely Eames Powers of Ten.

Inigo Thomas on Fattipuffs and Thinifers. NB this was a book I never actually read, though it was alluringly advertised in the back of some other Puffin children's books I must have had: I should see if I can actually get hold of it.

Art of the Afghan war rug.

Were the soldiers of the terracotta army based on individual people?

Using your cat to hack your neighbors' wifi (shades of "That Darn Cat").

Have been very busy reading things for work, but of course there is always time for some bits of light reading around the edges. Some of it inconsequential, some of it very good indeed.

FODDER of variable quality: Susan Hill, The Soul of Discretion (at first I wondered why I'd let this series drop, then I remembered the things I don't like about them!); Patricia Briggs' Sianim series; Holly Black, The Darkest Part of the Forest; Ned Beauman, Glow (impressive, agile, over-ingenious); Julie Schumacher, Dear Committee Members: A Novel (I have been avoiding this one as letters of recommendation are FAR TOO MUCH PART OF MY LIFE ALREADY, but really it is very good); Richard Powers, The Time of Our Singing (supreme comfort reread - the third-person narration doesn't work as well as I remembered, but the voice of the main narrator is incredible, and it's hard to imagine a book that feels more directly written to me - will perhaps now reread James Baldwin's Just Above My Head, which I think of as the secret twin/precursor); Emma Bull, War for the Oaks (another comfort reread); Paula Hawkins, The Girl on the Train (very depressing, but a decently good read); Simon Wood, The One That Got Away (just about above the bar of readability); Jim Gourley, The Race Within: Passion, Courage, and Sacrifice at the Ultraman Triathlon (afflicted by many of the problems that so much writing about endurance sport has - silly glorifying of what is often stupidity, annoying magazine-feature style of blow-by-blow narration, etc. but nonetheless a very good read - NB I think I do not need to do an Ultraman race, particularly not the Hawaii one, whose bike course just sounds dreadful!).

Then a few things I'll single out for particular recommendation:

Nina Stibbe's Love, Nina: A Nanny Writes Home is delightful (more here).

Top pick, a book I'm already sure is one of my favorites of the year: Daniel Galera, Blood-Drenched Beard. Dwight Garner's review was electrifying to me. Could there possibly be a novel more closely tailored to my particular loves? (Professional triathlete, sea swimming, whales and penguins, a dog as a main character, face-blindness [which I do not have, just relatively poor facial recognition skills, but I do have the matching thing where every place in the world looks the same to me], a Borges-Murakami access of slight mystical overtones....) Anyway, BEST BOOK EVER! Nice additional Galera bit here.

Ian MacLeod's The Summer Isles: very lovely, haunting, makes me want to reread Jo Walton's Farthing books as well.

Richard Price's The Whites, not perhaps as good as his very best books but really a great piece of work regardless (is it just me or does that elegiac breakneck narration of the opening grow wearisome as a narrative mode? He does it so well, but I am not sure it's something I really need more of in my reading life, it seems to express an orientation towards the present and the past that I can't really endorse - something overly sacral, reverential - I like the less elegiac version of similar in gonzo noir).

Last but not least, Atul Gawande, Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End. Painfully gripping - a good recommendation from my friend J. B., who comments that it should be required reading for anyone who hopes to grow old.
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