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JpCambert AlexKerner It is non-fiction, but you are correct: I was under the impression it was a fictionalized memoir from father to son while reading it. Tsar of Love and Techno Finalists: It has been a year for books. Thanks for making and maintaining the lists.
I cannot commit this year at all. It would be wonderful to see it recognized. I love doing my final predictions. There seems to be nothing that is a solid lock.
The Sellout is a sharp and biting satire in which Mr. Beatty walks a tightrope between outrageous hilarity and profound contemplation on themes that run the gamut.
It might well win the prize. The Turner House might also be in the running here. Flournoy is a wonderful writer, and the manner in which she investigates American themes through the lives of the Turner family.
It also takes place in Detroit, a city whose exploration did well for Jeffrey Eugenides. Perhaps even a winner. Fates and Furies has some lovely prose, but as others have observed, the story itself is a bit insular.
It does have those moments in which details are presented in a striking manner, which is something it has in common with a number of Pulitzer winners.
So it might well be another finalist or winner. And what of The Sympathizer?
Viet Thanh Nguyen writes with a sharp eye and ear for human beings caught in extraordinary circumstances. Well, Adam Johnson is really in a class by himself. He can take the most bizarre situations and make them seem realistic and inevitable.
At least, not so soon. Fortune Smiles is a wonderful collection filled with flawed and all too human characters, and prose that dazzles. And then, as sometimes happens, we might get thrown a curveball by the Pulitzer board and jury. I know a number of people on this site has spoken of their love and admiration for it.
But it seems to me to be a novel so mechanical and overwrought that I find it difficult to admire it. Hanya Yanagihara, it seems, has tried to cram everything but the kitchen sink into the story, whose tragic convolutions exceed overdrive to the point that they become overkill.
Also, for a novel that puports to deal so intimately with trauma and the emotions that arise as its result, it comes off as much too clinical and distanced. The feeling is of reading not so much about human beings as of guinea pigs or a collection of cells smeared onto a slide and put under the glaring eye of a microscope.
But that disconnection and clinical observation create an obstacle between a reader and a story. Then again, who knows?The Making of a Writer Kent Haruf.
Kent and grandson, Henry, and I wrote Plainsong over about a six-year period while I was there. But earlier in that decade, before Cathy joined me in Illinois, I was living in a trailer court in a one-room trailer; I was very poor, still trying to support my family even though we weren’t living.
Before I get started, this column is really just as much one reader’s remembrance as it is a primer on a writer’s small, but indelible body of work.
I started reading Kent Haruf around the same time everyone else did, when Plainsong hit bookstores back in At the time, I was one of those. Plainsong kent haruf essay.
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We would like to show you a description here but the site won’t allow us. Writers I admire – Kent Haruf I discovered Kent Haruf by accident, when a friend was reading his final novel Our Souls at Night, and I borrowed it. I didn’t know what to make of it at first, thinking it a bit over-sentimental, but the further I got into the story the more it captivated me.
So for a while they stood below the windmill in the failing light. The thirsty horses approached and peered at them and sniffed at the water and began to drink, sucking up long draughts of it.