“Scott Fitzgerald stole Zelda’s ideas, plagiarized her diaries and even pushed her into an affair. He was arguably the worst husband of his generation — and that made him its best author…” — Salon Magazine.
While interesting, this book is toeing the line between being a seriously academic work and one of light marshmallow fluff. i don’t like that combination. Maybe it’ll get better. But i normally like my academics straight up, smothered in footnotes (or endnotes, or just plain citations!!!), and i like my fluff just plain airy and delicious.
addendum: i take it back- fast food nation is thoroughly researched and endnoted. i was just too lazy to look for the notes. and the fluff is only to break up the tedium. it’s good stuff.
THE LITTLE FLOWERS OF SAINT MACK
Doc laid ten big starfish out on a shelf, and he set up a line of eight glass dishes half filled with sea water. Although he was inclined to carelessness in his living arrangements his laboratory technique was immaculate. The making of the embryo series gave him pleasure. He had done it hundreds of time before, and he felt a safety in the known thing –no speculation here. He did certain things and certain other things followed. There is comfort in routine.
His old life came back to him –a plateau of contentment with small peaks of excitement but none of the jagged pain of original thinking, none of the loneliness of invention. His phonograph played softly, played the safe and certain fugues of Bach, clear as equations. As he worked, a benign feeling came over him. He liked himself again as he once had; liked himself as a person, the way he might like anyone else. The self-hatred which poisons so many people and which had been irritating him was gone for the time. The top voice of his mind sang peacefulness and order, and the raucous middle voice was gentle; it mumbled and snarled but it could not be heard. The lowest voice of all was silent, dreaming of a warm safe sea.
Manhattan Transfer may be the best book I’ve read all year. It was my first foray into Dos Passos-land, and I’m prepared to fully gorge myself with all his works now.
best collection of short stories i’ve ever read.
AMAZING movie shot in 1956 with Picasso painting in front of a camera so you see every stroke he makes. He painted 15 pictures just for this documentary, and destroyed most of them after the filming. The very definition of an art film.
there’s a guy in his late 20s, travelling around the country, stopping off for weeks at a time in certain locations. he has 2 types of days, driving days and non-driving days. on his driving days he gets up early and drives for 12, 15 hours. most of his time is non-driving days in which he drinks until dawn and sleeps until late afternoon, only to get up to watch Seinfeld reruns which make him laugh out loud. Basic M.O. is to stay inside on sunny days but move from town to town watching teevee. In towns where he has friends, they hang out with him and break up the monotony of his daily pattern. In one instance, he arrived at a friend’s house and left from a stranger’s ten days later.
The relative pronoun that is restrictive, which means it tells you a necessary piece of information about its antecedent: for example, “The color that is used most often is purple.” Here the that phrase answers an important question: which of the many colors are we talking about? And the answer is the one that is used most often.
Which is non-restrictive: it does not limit the word it refers to. An example is “Darlene’s restaurant, which had an outbreak of food poisoning, was the scene of the anniversary dinner.” Here that is unnecessary: the which does not tell us which of Darlene’s chain of restaurants we’re considering; it simply provides an extra piece of information about the plan we’re already discussing. “Darlene’s restaurant” tells us all we really need to know to identify it.
It boils down to this: if you can tell which thing is being discussed without the which or that clause, use which; if you can’t, use that.
There are two rules of thumb you can keep in mind. First, if the phrase needs a comma, you probably mean which. Since “Darlene’s restaurant” calls for a comma, we would not say “Darlene’s restaurant, that had an outbreak of food poisoning.”
Another way to keep them straight is to imagine by the way following every which: “Darlene’s restaurant, which (by the way) had an outbreak of food poisoning. . . .” The which adds a useful, but not grammatically necessary, piece of information. On the other hand, we wouldn’t say “The color which (by the way) is used most often is purple,” because the color on its own isn’t enough information — which color?
from Jack Lynch’s Guide to Grammar
(i changed the words in his examples, his were boring)
This site allows you to identify and visualize the relations, connections, intersections, and rhymes between words.
David Crystal, on the gotten/got distinction in The Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language (p.311):
“Gotten is probably the most distinctive of all the American English/British English grammatical differences, but British people who try to use it often get it wrong. It is not simply an alternative for have got. Gotten is used in such contexts as
They’ve gotten a new boat. (= obtain)
They’ve gotten interested. (= become)
He’s gotten off the chair. (= moved)
But it is not used in the sense of possession (= have).
AmE does not allow
*I’ve gotten the answer or
*I’ve gotten plenty.
but uses I’ve got as in informal BrE. The availability of gotten does however mean that AmE can make such distinctions as the following:
They’ve got to leave (they must leave) vs
They’ve gotten to leave (they’ve managed to leave).”
(thanks English Grammar FAQ!)
Finished Curious Case of Sidd Finch last night. Bizarre, but Plimpton TWICE mentions the guy who attached helium balloons to his lawn chair to float over Long Beach back in the 80s. The last mention was on the last page. Last week I saw the link to the NYTimes article from back in the 80s when it happened. I was reading along and when i got to that part i was like, “Hmm, this is oddly familiar.”
A named place (Washington Square NYC). A named half century (1850). A named, sucessful, respected, clever physician (Dr. Sloper). A mature blossom (daughter Catherine, age 22). An unnamed emotion (greed, love, despair). A proposed match with a plausible coxcomb (Morris Townsend). Infinite modesty (Catherine).
A rejected lover (the mercenary Mr. Townsend). A silent battle of wits (Dr. Sloper & Catherine). Obstinacy. Treachorous traitors within the ranks (aunt Penniman). An extended trip to Europe (Dr. Sloper & Catherine, one year). Catherine remains in love, prepares to be married. The return home, to Washington Square, where Morris has been lounging about for the past year with aunt Penniman, drinking deeply of the doctor’s cellar, fingering the expensive cigars. An abrupt break (Morris knows he will never see the money, flees). Catherine’s coup over her father (tells him she has broken off her engagement with Mr. Townsend).
Seventeen years later (1868), Catherine is an elderly matron, unmarried, greatly liked, living out her life fully. Her father is dead. Morris comes back from the void, asks for an audience. Aunt Penniman takes the liberty of granting him one, traps Catherine into seeing him.