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kjboldon's review against another edition
5.0
This book is the rare combination of compulsively, devourably readable and erudite. It's like having a bunch of different conversations with one of your smartest, funniest friends on topics both big and small. Commas to vision theory. Linguistics and Anne of Green Gables. These short essays inform, but always entertain.
thejenismightier's review against another edition
2.0
I just happened upon this during a time when I felt I needed to add more essay-reading in my life and bought it based on 1) the topics that the essays cover and, honestly, 2) the design and feel of this cute little blue book.
On the back cover, I've got a number of things here that made me want to read this: lyrical essays on writing, reading, and living; translation; unreliable memory; "... [Gabbert's] concerns are lonely pleasures-taking notes, crying, dreaming, and lots of reading..."
Yes, ok, you've got my attention. Tell me more about all of these things! Show me details I haven't considered. Make me think, make me argue with you, satisfy me with clear, well-worded ideas, make me look at something differently.
... These were my expectations and I can't really say that I felt that they were met. I wouldn't say I disliked these essays, but I didn't feel like I'd read anything in this collection that I couldn't have easily done without. It seemed as if Gabbert and I had a lot of interests in common, but I didn't care for the journey as we went along. Gabbert was taking all kinds of roads I would have rather passed up to find more interesting paths that maybe dug a little deeper. Instead of giving me what I wanted, these essays handed me some half-baked thoughts that sometimes seemed like the kind of thing you might write down when you have an idea to flesh out later.
At no point, while reading, did I doubt that Elisa Gabbert is an intelligent person with interesting enough ideas, but these essays didn't have the reach I was looking for.
On the back cover, I've got a number of things here that made me want to read this: lyrical essays on writing, reading, and living; translation; unreliable memory; "... [Gabbert's] concerns are lonely pleasures-taking notes, crying, dreaming, and lots of reading..."
Yes, ok, you've got my attention. Tell me more about all of these things! Show me details I haven't considered. Make me think, make me argue with you, satisfy me with clear, well-worded ideas, make me look at something differently.
... These were my expectations and I can't really say that I felt that they were met. I wouldn't say I disliked these essays, but I didn't feel like I'd read anything in this collection that I couldn't have easily done without. It seemed as if Gabbert and I had a lot of interests in common, but I didn't care for the journey as we went along. Gabbert was taking all kinds of roads I would have rather passed up to find more interesting paths that maybe dug a little deeper. Instead of giving me what I wanted, these essays handed me some half-baked thoughts that sometimes seemed like the kind of thing you might write down when you have an idea to flesh out later.
At no point, while reading, did I doubt that Elisa Gabbert is an intelligent person with interesting enough ideas, but these essays didn't have the reach I was looking for.
margaret_adams's review against another edition
I checked this out from the library after listening to Elisa Gabbert's Otherppl Podcast interview, in which Gabbert outlines her writing process and talks about being an essayist and what Listi terms 'a public intellectual.' This collection did not disappoint (the Chicago Review of Books' headline reads, "‘The Word Pretty’ Is So Smart, It Hurts"). Short, casual, rigorous essays on books, consumerism, self-image, and happiness (but mostly on books). Fantastic.
Quotes:
"He probably didn't say it, but the physicist Richard Feynman reportedly said, after being asked to prepare a freshman lecture on why spin 1/2 particles obey Fermi-Dirac statistics, 'I couldn't reduce it to the freshman level. That means we really don't understand it.' This has a whiff of Sapir-Whorf to it, suggesting thoughts that don't convert readily into language aren't thoughts at all, but something illusory that crumbles at the touch, like dreams you never retell or write down."
"I love the way inter-paragraph gaps fight against the idea of essay as argument, and make it an act of discovery. Or rather a document of discovery, like an explorer's journal, written in pencil and gone back through--to add color more than accuracy; even at the expense of accuracy. The essay needn't be faithful to the path of the thinking, but the form can reveal how thinking happens, like when a song gets stuck in your head and only later do you realize why you thought of it, that you had read or heard a word from the third verse. There's magic there--the mind doesn't always show its work. Why should prose?"
"I wanted to revisit Salter without re-reading, which gives me mortality anxiety, something like the shivery way my friend Martin reacts to melting ice cream."
"[. . .] I reject the armchair linguists's inclination to use etymology as argument."
"(How can we speak of time without speaking of death? We may as well speak of death.)"
"(Correlation is not causation, I know, but it's damning anyway.)"
Quotes:
"He probably didn't say it, but the physicist Richard Feynman reportedly said, after being asked to prepare a freshman lecture on why spin 1/2 particles obey Fermi-Dirac statistics, 'I couldn't reduce it to the freshman level. That means we really don't understand it.' This has a whiff of Sapir-Whorf to it, suggesting thoughts that don't convert readily into language aren't thoughts at all, but something illusory that crumbles at the touch, like dreams you never retell or write down."
"I love the way inter-paragraph gaps fight against the idea of essay as argument, and make it an act of discovery. Or rather a document of discovery, like an explorer's journal, written in pencil and gone back through--to add color more than accuracy; even at the expense of accuracy. The essay needn't be faithful to the path of the thinking, but the form can reveal how thinking happens, like when a song gets stuck in your head and only later do you realize why you thought of it, that you had read or heard a word from the third verse. There's magic there--the mind doesn't always show its work. Why should prose?"
"I wanted to revisit Salter without re-reading, which gives me mortality anxiety, something like the shivery way my friend Martin reacts to melting ice cream."
"[. . .] I reject the armchair linguists's inclination to use etymology as argument."
"(How can we speak of time without speaking of death? We may as well speak of death.)"
"(Correlation is not causation, I know, but it's damning anyway.)"
ken_bookhermit's review against another edition
4.0
A cool collection of short essays that touch on pop culture, linguistic turns, paragraphs, and poetry—what more could you want?
What I enjoyed most about this text is Gabbert’s knowledge, from philosophical argumentation to sociological concepts, from poetics to Twitter culture. It’s an informed series of essays, plus her essay on tangents and her ability to follow her own tangents make for a delightful reading experience.
The titular essay is one of my faves. I always enjoy a discussion on the sublime.
What I enjoyed most about this text is Gabbert’s knowledge, from philosophical argumentation to sociological concepts, from poetics to Twitter culture. It’s an informed series of essays, plus her essay on tangents and her ability to follow her own tangents make for a delightful reading experience.
The titular essay is one of my faves. I always enjoy a discussion on the sublime.
nathansnook's review against another edition
3.0
Not good, not great, but Gabbert's voice reminds me of one of those friends that I'll sit with for six hours midday at a cafe listening to how their mind works and all the banal things they think about, bouncing thoughts back and forth, that come up again because a point was forgotten or hadn't been made in the way it needed to be, and we laugh, and maybe cry a bit, and when we leave our lattes half-sipped and cold, the sun is setting and you're catching it together in the parking lot and the day is good and the world is fine, and it's all for a big maybe, for a few minutes, that this feeling stays, and you can go to bed and sleep a bit better and continue being when being felt so bad and boring before this friend. And you're thankful that there are people in your life and life is worth living.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, Elisa, thanks for being a friend. Her thoughts pounce around technology, books, more books, and all the little mundane things in life. It's quaint, a bit podcasty, and perfect for one of those 30-minute commutes, coming and going in the ways we become.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, Elisa, thanks for being a friend. Her thoughts pounce around technology, books, more books, and all the little mundane things in life. It's quaint, a bit podcasty, and perfect for one of those 30-minute commutes, coming and going in the ways we become.
ilovewongkarwai's review against another edition
2.0
2.5. Some essays are very good, some I found boring and repetitive, as often happens with collections of essays previously published individually elsewhere. I also found annoying that Gabbert mentions twitter and her husband in basically every essay and the fact that she talks about a Spanish author I dislike (sorry, I can’t help myself).
It’s not a bad book (perhaps I didn’t connect with it because it feels like I wasn’t the *right* reader, since I don’t have a particular interest in the US’ cultural and political current state) but it feels more like a column or a blog, so I don’t recommend reading it in one sitting as I did.
It’s not a bad book (perhaps I didn’t connect with it because it feels like I wasn’t the *right* reader, since I don’t have a particular interest in the US’ cultural and political current state) but it feels more like a column or a blog, so I don’t recommend reading it in one sitting as I did.
failedimitator's review against another edition
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
4.5
Elisa Gabbert writes the way I wish I write, which is to say, this are 4.5 stars of Envy.
jimmylorunning's review against another edition
4.0
This collection starts off with an essay about keeping a writer's notebook. It's something you put half formed ideas in, things that intrigue you but you don't exactly know why yet, little phrases or thoughts, but also take notes on current projects in. A few pieces into the book, I noticed that there's also something resembling a writer's notebook about these essays.
There are definitely interesting thought morsels within each short essay, but they aren't developed to the point of essay-istic rigor. They still retain the raw edge of the "personal take" that has a casual "ah i noticed this" quality to them, which I found very inviting because I also have thoughts on many of these topics, and these essays kind of invite the reader in, like a good conversation starter.
And so I will attempt to converse with some of these pieces:
Personal Data: Notes on Keeping a Notebook -
I used to keep a writer's notebook everywhere I went. Then I stopped for a long time, and recently (last month-ish) I've picked up the habit again. And I don't know why I ever stopped. It's really helpful because half formed ideas always strike me at weird times. Weird phrases that just pop up are sometimes way better than ones I sit down to labor over.
I also relate to when she talked about curating her own stuff over old notebooks. I find this way of writing to be very stimulating and open-ended, and sometimes I don't even feel like what I'm putting together is mine. It almost seems like someone else wrote them. So I can be truly un-biased when editing them.
Unlike Gabbert, I do not like buying nice notebooks. Instead, I prefer making my own custom ones. They are 4.25" x 5.5" around 30 pages (standard printer paper), with a simple cardstock cover. I write the date I first started it on the cover. This means it's small enough to fit in most of my pockets, and it's not precious (or expensive) enough for me to worry about ruining it with my bad writing. When I finish one, I simply make another one. Sometimes I make a batch of 4 or 5.
Variations on Crying -
This makes me think of crying as a sort of pornography. Like instead of cumming, you watch this type of porno in order for a different salty clear liquid to be emitted. Her fascination with crying also reminds me of a book I read years ago that I'd recommend her, if I were in a real conversation with her. It's a book about [b:people crying in front of paintings|165715|Pictures & Tears A History of People Who Have Cried in Front of Paintings|James Elkins|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347361140l/165715._SY75_.jpg|160005] throughout history.
There's also a [b:book about crying|43835525|The Crying Book|Heather Christle|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1555075317l/43835525._SY75_.jpg|68216202] by an acquaintance poet that I plan on reading. Eventually I'll get around to it.
Certain things elicit tears and others do not. Certain people have a freer relationship to releasing them than others. She talks about how the kids on Masterchef Junior (a show I also enjoyed immensely) cry openly and without shame. We've lost that relationship with crying. When did crying pick up all its social rules?
I like her observation about speech as a trigger for crying. I have noticed the same thing. If I just think about something sad, often tears do not come as easily as if I recount it out loud to myself or an audience. It is surprising how this works. The voice starts cracking as if the emotion is in the throat. It comes out even if you don't want it to.
The Inelegant Translation -
Lots here about translation. I also read a lot in translation, in fact, I probably read more translated works than non translated works. I find that even bad translations are interesting in some way, English seems new after it has been forced through the mold of another tongue, new and weird in a good way as we are too used to seeing it in only one way. And just the fact that it was an idea that sprouted in someone's mind after having been formed in another language, and has now been translated to my language which in turn sprouts a similar but probably/inevitably different idea in my mind. Well, even if it were the same language, it would still be a different idea, but this time the difference can also be compounded by differences of language and culture. I like these minor inexactnesses in literature, the same way that minor mutations creates diversity and a more evolutionarily fit populace, so do misunderstandings, mistranslations, mistranscriptions. Even misspellings and bad grammar interest me, and I think it stems from the same drive.
I wonder if Gabbert's read Via by Caroline Bergvall, certainly she would be interested in it.
Seeing Things -
I don't see things that clearly when I read. I don't imagine them in fleshed out surroundings based on places I've been or have lived. In fact, I will read a description of a person in a novel very quickly, maybe picking up on one or two things, but they will still remain pretty vague. There are even some people who can't visualize anything in their "mind's eye". It's an actual condition. It's called aphantasia.
Impossible Time -
One minor quibble... she says that Alain-Fournier's book Le Grand Meaulnes has a title that is nearly untranslatable. Then she says "it tells the story of Augustin Meaulnes, known as 'grand' at school for both his height and his charisma". Hmm... that doesn't sound very untranslatable to me. Meaulnes is simply a name, so that stays. Grand is grand, or great. To say this title is untranslatable is almost like saying the title "The Great Gatsby" is untranslatable. I'm sure I am not getting something, so someone please enlighten me.
The Art of the Paragraph -
Definitely appreciate her going into detail about a craft like this. I've long thought that the high school 5 paragraph essay with each one including a thesis sentence followed by supporting sentences is one of the worst english classroom creations ever. Writers in real life almost never write like this, maybe for business applications they do, but like for literary purposes it always felt like a zombie-fied way of writing. I understand it though, it makes things simple, there's a formula and you just plug it in. And the general concept kind of makes sense. In a very general sense, you do want each paragraph to say one thing, but the variation on that is immense and I love how Gabbert covered the one sentence paragraph and the book length paragraph here, both of which showcase the incredible undefinability of what a paragraph really is except some weird concept in our collective minds.
In the end, I think a paragraph is just the mind getting tired. I'd love it if people taught it like that, not even as a unit of thought, but as a way for the writer to control how much you dump into the reader's brain. They say a person can only hold 7 numbers in their head at a time, and the paragraph is kinda like this, it's an intuitive gauging of how much can fit in a head. But along with that it's also how much a writer wants to play with that expectation of storage and relief. And also as a way of creating continuation a la Proust, and kinda testing those limits of how much can flow from one thing into another, how far can that go before we need a breath?
I always think of paragraph breaks, as I do with line breaks, as an auditory break, as breath. I guess it's just the poet in me coming out.
What is Poetry -
The mind of winter, the mind of poetry. Separate modes of thinking, I can totally relate. You're in the mood for poetry the way you are in love with someone and you just have no eyes for anyone else (prose). Although one thing I wonder for Gabbert is that when writing poetry, does she also read poetry? Does she read nothing? Often when I am in the mind for writing poetry, I find reading poetry to be distracting, and kind of dangerous, as other styles may sometimes have too much influence on me. It's not always the case, sometimes I can read and write poetry at the same time. But I tend to stick with fiction and nonfiction when I'm in the mind for writing poetry, and I save reading poetry for when I'm writing prose.
An excellent point she makes is about what separates poetry from prose. "This or that critic, as a way of calling a poem basic, often balks at its being 'just prose chopped up into lines.' Reader, this statement may sound radical at first, but it couldn't be more obvious: Poetry is just prose chopped up into lines. I mean this to be final, categorical, and no slight on poetry." She goes on to emphasize how the chopped up-ness of poetry is significant because it creates ambiguities in the breakages and affects the rhythm of the writing/reading/interpretation of it.
As a poet, I always think of the line breaks as a way of regulating breath, as a way of slightly nudging the reader towards one way of reading a thing, but also sometimes as an intentional misdirection. But above all, for me, the line break allows me to even write the poem to begin with... to THINK in lines and to THINK in breaks means that the way I write is affected ambiently (and in a positive way), so that what comes out is not the same as what would have come out if I wrote a block. The line guides the thought itself.
So maybe when people say "it feels like prose chopped into lines" in a derogatory way, maybe they mean that the line did not guide the thought. That it feels like prose was written first, and line breaks were inserted afterwards, but that the line breaks were not performing an important/integral enough role in the creation of thought itself. In that case, I do understand the "chopped up prose" criticism because I have often thought that of certain works as well.
Aphorisms Are Essays -
"I became fully committed to hating Goodreads while reading some of the early reviews of my second book, a poetry-prose hybrid [...] that is full of aphorisms. Several of these reviews included statements like 'While I like the philosophical ramblings, and love the brevity of the collection itself, I found myself disagreeing with many of her postulations.' [...] Part of the job, I think, of the aphorist is to write statements that even she does not necessarily agree with."
Yes, I'm frustrated with you too Goodreads. But I guess I also like adding my stupid opinions to the fray. I love hating on other reviews in my reviews. So often they miss the point completely. But then again, I guess it's not Goodreads fault, people in general miss the point.
BTW I've read [b:her book|18808921|The Self Unstable|Elisa Gabbert|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1384605419l/18808921._SX50_.jpg|26742108] (at least I think it's the one she's referring to here) and it is amazing. I gave it 5 stars, but I recently went back to look at it and realized it's one of the few that I haven't written a review for. Usually I won't write a review for books that don't move me one way or another, but that's clearly not the case here. I was surprised because I remember toiling over the review for a long time, but I guess nothing ever satisfied me enough. It seems odd that I was so quiet about the book when, in my mind, it's one of my favorites. I guess it says something about the book that it was so hard to write a fair review of it. It's hard to pin down, in a good way.
The Self-Destruct Button: On the literary death drive -
Tying in 'Two Serious Ladies' and 'Broken River' (I haven't read the latter, but the former is one of my favorites) Gabbert attempts to explain what attracts her to these characters who are driven to destruction:
Title TK -
Her strategies on titling works. My personal experience is that the title just kinda comes to me as I write or as I finish a piece, and it just seems right (80% of the time). Either that or, in the other 20% of cases, it never comes and I can never find a title that "feels" right. I go about it very intuitively, and there is no real strategy. I almost never use the "pull a line or phrase out of the piece and make it the title" method, even if the phrase is re-phrased slightly. It's usually something that's tangential but sounds interesting and makes the mind take a leap.
Writing That Sounds Like Writing -
Or the precarious situation of having to write something like you just rolled out of bed and didn't even try to write it. It can't be "overwritten" or else you'll be branded a try-hard.
I agree with her that sometimes I like florid excess in writing, if done right. But the key is "if done right". My own example of this is Robert Walser. He tends to overwrite in the most interesting ways, and it's always surprising and funny. Overwriting when it's done badly seems to be humorless. But when done well, it doesn't feel "heavy" and it always gives me a strange pleasure.
There are definitely interesting thought morsels within each short essay, but they aren't developed to the point of essay-istic rigor. They still retain the raw edge of the "personal take" that has a casual "ah i noticed this" quality to them, which I found very inviting because I also have thoughts on many of these topics, and these essays kind of invite the reader in, like a good conversation starter.
And so I will attempt to converse with some of these pieces:
Personal Data: Notes on Keeping a Notebook -
I used to keep a writer's notebook everywhere I went. Then I stopped for a long time, and recently (last month-ish) I've picked up the habit again. And I don't know why I ever stopped. It's really helpful because half formed ideas always strike me at weird times. Weird phrases that just pop up are sometimes way better than ones I sit down to labor over.
I also relate to when she talked about curating her own stuff over old notebooks. I find this way of writing to be very stimulating and open-ended, and sometimes I don't even feel like what I'm putting together is mine. It almost seems like someone else wrote them. So I can be truly un-biased when editing them.
Unlike Gabbert, I do not like buying nice notebooks. Instead, I prefer making my own custom ones. They are 4.25" x 5.5" around 30 pages (standard printer paper), with a simple cardstock cover. I write the date I first started it on the cover. This means it's small enough to fit in most of my pockets, and it's not precious (or expensive) enough for me to worry about ruining it with my bad writing. When I finish one, I simply make another one. Sometimes I make a batch of 4 or 5.
Variations on Crying -
This makes me think of crying as a sort of pornography. Like instead of cumming, you watch this type of porno in order for a different salty clear liquid to be emitted. Her fascination with crying also reminds me of a book I read years ago that I'd recommend her, if I were in a real conversation with her. It's a book about [b:people crying in front of paintings|165715|Pictures & Tears A History of People Who Have Cried in Front of Paintings|James Elkins|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347361140l/165715._SY75_.jpg|160005] throughout history.
There's also a [b:book about crying|43835525|The Crying Book|Heather Christle|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1555075317l/43835525._SY75_.jpg|68216202] by an acquaintance poet that I plan on reading. Eventually I'll get around to it.
Certain things elicit tears and others do not. Certain people have a freer relationship to releasing them than others. She talks about how the kids on Masterchef Junior (a show I also enjoyed immensely) cry openly and without shame. We've lost that relationship with crying. When did crying pick up all its social rules?
I like her observation about speech as a trigger for crying. I have noticed the same thing. If I just think about something sad, often tears do not come as easily as if I recount it out loud to myself or an audience. It is surprising how this works. The voice starts cracking as if the emotion is in the throat. It comes out even if you don't want it to.
The Inelegant Translation -
Lots here about translation. I also read a lot in translation, in fact, I probably read more translated works than non translated works. I find that even bad translations are interesting in some way, English seems new after it has been forced through the mold of another tongue, new and weird in a good way as we are too used to seeing it in only one way. And just the fact that it was an idea that sprouted in someone's mind after having been formed in another language, and has now been translated to my language which in turn sprouts a similar but probably/inevitably different idea in my mind. Well, even if it were the same language, it would still be a different idea, but this time the difference can also be compounded by differences of language and culture. I like these minor inexactnesses in literature, the same way that minor mutations creates diversity and a more evolutionarily fit populace, so do misunderstandings, mistranslations, mistranscriptions. Even misspellings and bad grammar interest me, and I think it stems from the same drive.
I wonder if Gabbert's read Via by Caroline Bergvall, certainly she would be interested in it.
Seeing Things -
I don't see things that clearly when I read. I don't imagine them in fleshed out surroundings based on places I've been or have lived. In fact, I will read a description of a person in a novel very quickly, maybe picking up on one or two things, but they will still remain pretty vague. There are even some people who can't visualize anything in their "mind's eye". It's an actual condition. It's called aphantasia.
Impossible Time -
One minor quibble... she says that Alain-Fournier's book Le Grand Meaulnes has a title that is nearly untranslatable. Then she says "it tells the story of Augustin Meaulnes, known as 'grand' at school for both his height and his charisma". Hmm... that doesn't sound very untranslatable to me. Meaulnes is simply a name, so that stays. Grand is grand, or great. To say this title is untranslatable is almost like saying the title "The Great Gatsby" is untranslatable. I'm sure I am not getting something, so someone please enlighten me.
The Art of the Paragraph -
Definitely appreciate her going into detail about a craft like this. I've long thought that the high school 5 paragraph essay with each one including a thesis sentence followed by supporting sentences is one of the worst english classroom creations ever. Writers in real life almost never write like this, maybe for business applications they do, but like for literary purposes it always felt like a zombie-fied way of writing. I understand it though, it makes things simple, there's a formula and you just plug it in. And the general concept kind of makes sense. In a very general sense, you do want each paragraph to say one thing, but the variation on that is immense and I love how Gabbert covered the one sentence paragraph and the book length paragraph here, both of which showcase the incredible undefinability of what a paragraph really is except some weird concept in our collective minds.
In the end, I think a paragraph is just the mind getting tired. I'd love it if people taught it like that, not even as a unit of thought, but as a way for the writer to control how much you dump into the reader's brain. They say a person can only hold 7 numbers in their head at a time, and the paragraph is kinda like this, it's an intuitive gauging of how much can fit in a head. But along with that it's also how much a writer wants to play with that expectation of storage and relief. And also as a way of creating continuation a la Proust, and kinda testing those limits of how much can flow from one thing into another, how far can that go before we need a breath?
I always think of paragraph breaks, as I do with line breaks, as an auditory break, as breath. I guess it's just the poet in me coming out.
What is Poetry -
The mind of winter, the mind of poetry. Separate modes of thinking, I can totally relate. You're in the mood for poetry the way you are in love with someone and you just have no eyes for anyone else (prose). Although one thing I wonder for Gabbert is that when writing poetry, does she also read poetry? Does she read nothing? Often when I am in the mind for writing poetry, I find reading poetry to be distracting, and kind of dangerous, as other styles may sometimes have too much influence on me. It's not always the case, sometimes I can read and write poetry at the same time. But I tend to stick with fiction and nonfiction when I'm in the mind for writing poetry, and I save reading poetry for when I'm writing prose.
An excellent point she makes is about what separates poetry from prose. "This or that critic, as a way of calling a poem basic, often balks at its being 'just prose chopped up into lines.' Reader, this statement may sound radical at first, but it couldn't be more obvious: Poetry is just prose chopped up into lines. I mean this to be final, categorical, and no slight on poetry." She goes on to emphasize how the chopped up-ness of poetry is significant because it creates ambiguities in the breakages and affects the rhythm of the writing/reading/interpretation of it.
As a poet, I always think of the line breaks as a way of regulating breath, as a way of slightly nudging the reader towards one way of reading a thing, but also sometimes as an intentional misdirection. But above all, for me, the line break allows me to even write the poem to begin with... to THINK in lines and to THINK in breaks means that the way I write is affected ambiently (and in a positive way), so that what comes out is not the same as what would have come out if I wrote a block. The line guides the thought itself.
So maybe when people say "it feels like prose chopped into lines" in a derogatory way, maybe they mean that the line did not guide the thought. That it feels like prose was written first, and line breaks were inserted afterwards, but that the line breaks were not performing an important/integral enough role in the creation of thought itself. In that case, I do understand the "chopped up prose" criticism because I have often thought that of certain works as well.
Aphorisms Are Essays -
"I became fully committed to hating Goodreads while reading some of the early reviews of my second book, a poetry-prose hybrid [...] that is full of aphorisms. Several of these reviews included statements like 'While I like the philosophical ramblings, and love the brevity of the collection itself, I found myself disagreeing with many of her postulations.' [...] Part of the job, I think, of the aphorist is to write statements that even she does not necessarily agree with."
Yes, I'm frustrated with you too Goodreads. But I guess I also like adding my stupid opinions to the fray. I love hating on other reviews in my reviews. So often they miss the point completely. But then again, I guess it's not Goodreads fault, people in general miss the point.
BTW I've read [b:her book|18808921|The Self Unstable|Elisa Gabbert|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1384605419l/18808921._SX50_.jpg|26742108] (at least I think it's the one she's referring to here) and it is amazing. I gave it 5 stars, but I recently went back to look at it and realized it's one of the few that I haven't written a review for. Usually I won't write a review for books that don't move me one way or another, but that's clearly not the case here. I was surprised because I remember toiling over the review for a long time, but I guess nothing ever satisfied me enough. It seems odd that I was so quiet about the book when, in my mind, it's one of my favorites. I guess it says something about the book that it was so hard to write a fair review of it. It's hard to pin down, in a good way.
The Self-Destruct Button: On the literary death drive -
Tying in 'Two Serious Ladies' and 'Broken River' (I haven't read the latter, but the former is one of my favorites) Gabbert attempts to explain what attracts her to these characters who are driven to destruction:
"'They seem almost to prefer ruin to voluntary change'This was a surprisingly depressing essay, but it asks some good questions. I think it's the same way in real life too, not just in novels. A lot of times we have a choice, but we don't choose, we prefer not to choose for whatever reason, because we think we don't deserve better or because we're afraid of what other people will think.
We do seem to prefer ruin, don't we? But maybe the ideas of preference and volition are imputed by the gods to us humans, mere slaves to our programming. I read once that a mechanical ant, designed to move in a straight line, would amble in erratic patterns if placed on an uneven surface--it would seem to have its own plans, to be making constant choices. But the code itself is simple. There is no free will there, no mystical intervention between cause and effect. Are Lennon's characters mechanical ants--or, more to the point, is there any level on which they're not mechanical ants?"
Title TK -
Her strategies on titling works. My personal experience is that the title just kinda comes to me as I write or as I finish a piece, and it just seems right (80% of the time). Either that or, in the other 20% of cases, it never comes and I can never find a title that "feels" right. I go about it very intuitively, and there is no real strategy. I almost never use the "pull a line or phrase out of the piece and make it the title" method, even if the phrase is re-phrased slightly. It's usually something that's tangential but sounds interesting and makes the mind take a leap.
Writing That Sounds Like Writing -
Or the precarious situation of having to write something like you just rolled out of bed and didn't even try to write it. It can't be "overwritten" or else you'll be branded a try-hard.
I agree with her that sometimes I like florid excess in writing, if done right. But the key is "if done right". My own example of this is Robert Walser. He tends to overwrite in the most interesting ways, and it's always surprising and funny. Overwriting when it's done badly seems to be humorless. But when done well, it doesn't feel "heavy" and it always gives me a strange pleasure.
nateisdreaming's review against another edition
5.0
Can't think of a better way to start my 2022 in reading with.
This is a collection of short, cerebral, and witty essays; mostly on topics of literature and language, but sometimes other things as well (a prison cell in Alcatraz, for example).
In 2020, I read her newer, heavier collection "The Unreality of Memory". It impressed me enough to stay with me, though perhaps the timing of reading essays themed around disaster, during a pandemic, was a bit much for, and maybe didn't quite "wow" me like my favorite essays do. Which I think might be due to the timing.
Then in 2021 she had a new piece in Harper's, about isolation and covid, which I completely loved, which floored me really. It seemed to speak of things I had been thinking and which no one else had talked about. The timing was prescient as well -- the month it came out was the same month I got my vaccine. There was hope in the air (we didn't know about new variants yet), as we thought we were turning a large corner leading to an open plain , rather than a small one leading to more alleyways...
A few days ago I was in the mood for essay writing and thought of the Gabbert pieces I read. By coincidence, my neighborhood library happened to have this on the shelves.
Though "The Word Pretty" is significantly shorter, less talked about, and less thematically glued together as "Unreality of Memory" -- I enjoyed it more.
Maybe its just my timing in reading it, but to me, there's something very fun and playful about these essays. Or perhaps "exploratory" is the right word for it. It reminds me of when rock musicians first start hitting cool ideas in the studio, but before they solidify their new ideas as formula (see: The Beatles Revolver, or Talking Heads Fear of Music).
This is my favorite period in any artist's career, and perhaps its one of my favorite glimpses into writers as well. (In music, it normally happens around album number 4, give or take.)
Reading these essays felt like having an intimate dinner with a good friend. There is something very conversational about each piece, casual even, while still thoughtful, anchored, and often "mind blowing" (I use that term too much, I'm aware... But each piece in here did sincerely blow my mind at least once.)
I unfortunately lent Unreality to a friend last year, which means I'll probably never see it again. But I'm going to order and re-read that, now that I've devoured this one. I'm sure re-reading Unreality will be better, now that I'm less panicked about the apocalypse we are all in. In any case, this book excites me about essays the way Didion does. High, high recommendation. And a very short read, so there's really no excuses.
taraxhardy's review against another edition
4.0
3.75 - I felt like some of the essays in this collection were forgettable especially since they're all short, but I really liked the references she made throughout - Berger, Didion, Flaubert, Kafka, etc. The essay on "The Art of the Paragraph" has changed how I look at and understand form in writing. This was the first thing I've read by Gabbert but I'd be interested in looking at her other work.