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Aug 9 - Fog
By Kathryn Scanlan
Years ago, writer Kathryn Scanlan bought the diary of an old woman at an estate auction. She did so on a whim, not knowing the woman, who began the diary at 86 years old and used it to chronicle the minutiae of her days in a small Illinois town. Scanlan, obsessed with this stranger’s voice, began to cut it up, rearrange the words, and the result is Aug 9 – Fog, a book that feels as intimate as the best fiction. It’s a sad and lonely voice that seems to emerge out of snow and time, whispering about the mundane in a way that becomes truly universal and beautiful. It feels a little bit like The Conet Project, the record that collected the haunting voices of shortwave radio station operators. What purpose did these voices have in cutting through the silence? What purpose does anyone’s voice have? Through this woman’s words, Scanlan creates a book of unknown origin and profound impact. A slim and unclassifiable volume, Scanlan’s work rises above the esoteric into something that feels genuinely moving.
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Dream Sequence
By Adam Foulds
Brittle and blistering with humor, Foulds’ novel captures celebrity and its insanities as well as any book I’ve ever read. His protagonist is a British actor known only for his performance in a Downtown Abbey-like melodrama. He may be on the verge of his “moment” though: a great director (compared to Stanley Kubrick and Paul Thomas Anderson) has come calling, casting the actor as the lead in his next opus. Will the actor embrace this opportunity and give it his best? Or will he squander it on nights spent in unfamiliar environments with unsettling companions, all because squandering opportunities is the hallowed right of the famous? Added to this, Foulds gives us another character that pops up occasionally: a suburban woman with an unhealthy fixation on the actor. Obsession burns throughout this book, nearly lighting the pages on fire, all of it lit by the spark of Foulds’ masterful wit and his insight into lives of unfocused ambition.
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On the High Wire
By Philippe Petit
Translated by Paul Auster
No, I have never been, as Petit puts it, “on the high wire,” nor do I ever plan to be. Too high up there, too frightening, and I would never trust my own focus enough to put one foot in front of the next and walk out on something so thin, suspended, the ground dangerously below me. Thank God there are people like Petit, though, the artist who most famously walked between the two towers of the World Trade Center (you may have seen the great documentary, Man On Wire, which chronicled this feat). And thank God there are artists like Paul Auster, who fell in love with Petit’s work and translated from the French this book of…what? instructions? musings? poetry? Petit writes eloquently of the feelings of suspension, providing a handbook that’s gloriously useless, because who the hell would ever think to try to do what he does? Well, somebody will. Somebody must. Otherwise we’d never have artists like Petit.