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Michel Houellebecq’s “Annihilation” turns its way through dull romance, empty politics and day-to-day domesticity. Weaving through economic collapse, moral decline, and existential angst in a near-future France. It is surprisingly unironic. Tinged with gentle, unexpected tenderness. Like many of Houellebecq’s novels it begins with the end of a
Every morning jump out of bed and step on a landmine. The landmine is you. After the explosion, spend the rest of the day putting the pieces together.
My name is not Asher Lev, but I too have disappointed my parents with art. Asher looks and draws and paints. His father frowns. His mother wrings her hands and stares at the window. Chaim Potok’s ultra-orthodox coming-of-age novel feels like dust and unspoken guilt. It’s a story
Creativity is the key differentiator. Not creativity for the sake of juicing the algorithms, for boosting followers, for chasing money. Creativity for creativity’s sake. For producing stories and art and song and dance for the thrill of it, the pleasure of it. For the self-revelation and continuous astonishment at
It’s a heavy book. Not just in weight but in literary posturing. Andrew O’Hagan’s novel is about, well, it’s about a lot of things. About London. About money. About class. About art. About politics. About despair. About the past and how it sways and colours the