Drexel Publishing Group

I just bought Augusten Burroughs’ newest memoir, A Wolf at the Table and have been avidly reading it the past week. I also convinced my boyfriend to watchRunning With Scissors with me (somehow). But both these Burroughs experiences are leaving me a little… dissatisfied.  

I loved the book Running With Scissors. And the movie? Eh. It was okay. Annette Bening was incredible (the scene in the kitchen on Augusten’s birthday was horrifying and amazing at the same time). But other than that, I wasn’t too sure how much I liked it. It’s hard to watch the-movie-based-on-the-book and notcompare it to the book. The story was a little different, that’s fine; I understand it’s an adaptation of the book (something Harry Potter fans don’t seem to understand), but I just felt like the movie was missing something. Like it was disjointed. And not in a good, artistic-way like some movies. The charming thing about the book was how honest it was; it was unbelievable, but it was true! The movie felt like a P.C., bleached-clean version of the book. And the ending! Ugh. No mention of anything else that happened in his life, like Burroughs just turned out peachy-keen after that whole ordeal and happened to write a book about it. But you (or I) know that’s wrong! Look at the rest of Running With Scissors, look at Dry! The ending felt fake. No one gets off that easy - and Burroughs didn’t either, but it isn’t mentioned.  

As for A Wolf at the Table, its tone is wonderfully child-like. The things that young Augusten talks about and believes and does seem so perfectly fitting for a kid in that situation. The way he wants affection and attention from his dad and never gets it is sad in so many ways: sad because you remember being a kid and feeling that way, or sad because, as an adult, you hate his father for neglect, or sad because the whole situation is so unhealthy and he’s just a child. But, as far as memoirs and books about dysfunctional families go, I think that Running With Scissors beats A Wolf at the Table hands down. (And Dry beats them both.) So far it hasn’t made a huge impression on me. I guess it’s hard for a child to have to kind of epiphanies and experiences and understanding that someone older (even 16-year-old Augusten from Scissors) can, so I am left wondering where and how this is exactly going to end. I thought the later chapters of the book would reveal an adult-Augusten searching for answers, but thus far, it is nothing but child-Augusten. Not that that’s bad; I’m just waiting for the big climax of the memoir. Or for something to happen that will make the whole book come full circle.  

I’ll have to dig Dry out of my bookcase or all the boxes of books I have and re-read it. I still remember bawling my eyes out when Pighead died, and being mad at Augusten for drinking, and when he picked up the broach from the jeweler’s. That’s the kind of overwhelming sadness I expected from the movie and A Wolf at the Table. But maybe not every part of Burroughs’ life has to be packed with a seemingly-unbelievable amount of sadness. So I guess that’s a good thing, right?

“The Great Derangement,” a new book from Rolling Stone writer Matt Taibbi, details what he sees as the absurdity of current American politics and the polarization of America. Quite a heavy topic, but do not shy away just yet; with his journalistic deftness and characteristic acid wit, Taibbi manages to infiltrate various radical wings from across the political spectrum to unearth the lunacy at their cores, producing skilled political humor in the process.

The book jumps from story to story in the narrative of the past few years of Taibbi’s life. This journey introduces readers to the greed and ineptitude of the halls of Congress, life in an evangelical Texas mega-church, and meetings of the 9/11 Truth movement.

In one hilariously saddening section of his book, Taibbi constructs a reenactment of a fictionalized meeting of Bush administration cohorts, where they plan the attacks of 9/11. The drama unfolds based upon theories presented by those within the 9/11 Truth movement.

Having already planned the controlled demolition of the Twin Towers, the group of Dick Cheney, Paul Wolfowitz, Douglass Feith, Irv Kristol and others turns its attention to the Pentagon in the following excerpt:

Cheney: Well, that worked out well. I guess the only things left to really worry about are the other two planes. What do you guys think?

Kristol: Well, one plane. I’m thinking with the Pentagon, we send a missile or a drone into the building, then just tell everyone it’s a plane. Just to fuck with people.

Feith: Is this going to be your basic take-the-real-plane-to-a-remote-military-base, kill-the-passengers, then-fake-their-cellphone-distress-calls-using-advanced-voice-recog-technology deals?

Kristol: That’s what I’m thinking. Keep it simple, in other words.

The absurdity of the passage parallels the rest of the book - horrifyingly disheartening to the point where you wish you could stop the unconscious stream of laughter that it provokes.

In addition to Rolling Stone, Taibbi has written for The Nation and New York Press, and reported on the 2008 presidential primaries for HBO’s Real Time with Bill Maher.

Any English major will tell you that reading for class has its ups and downs. On the up side, you are required to read some of the best writing in the language. On the down side, sometimes your brain gets fried. So as this gorgeous weather has been gracing Philadelphia the past few weeks, I’ve tried to spend what little spare time I have reading absolute crap. Really. All I do all day for school is read Faulkner and Conrad and Voltaire. So when I’m sitting by my apartment’s pool on a sunny weekend, I put down the great works and let my mind melt into idiotic drivel with no real literary value.

My boyfriend’s sister keeps sending me all of these Philippa Gregory novels for my birthday and holidays. For those of you who aren’t familiar, Gregory wrote some of those great trash novels about the Tudors: The Other Boleyn Girl and The Boleyn Inheritance among others. So since I’m not one to turn down a free book, I read them. The world’s recent fascination with the Tudors has brought these out of the woodworks, and who am I to argue. While the novels, the movie, and the Showtime TV series aren’t even remotely historically accurate at times, they’re really quite entertaining.

They make me think; not in the same way as Conrad or Faulkner, of course, but they do make me think. For instance, as I finished The Other Boleyn Girl, I thought to myself, “Well I could have written that.” Philippa Gregory made an insane amount of money on this book and then she got a movie deal! I mean, really, if I wanted to write garbage I could probably make a lot more money than if I tried to write the next great American novel.

We recently had a Publishing Group meeting where we discussed this sad fact about the publishing world and it worries me, because I don’t have a lot of will power. Let me explain: I’d like to think that I have certain standards for any work I’m considering to seriously publish, but in all honesty, I could see myself selling out when my savings start running low. Unlike what most people are lead to believe, artists and writers like money. They would like to be successful. I would like to be successful. Or at least have enough money to have a comfortable life. Nothing too fancy; I’d just like to afford a nice bottle of wine every once in a while. That’s not too much to ask.

And I wonder, is Philippa Gregory secretly a very talented and insightful writer who just got hungry and sold out one day? And is that really so bad? I mean, if people want to read garbage, is it so bad that writers supply it? I’ve recently reconciled with the fact that I’m eventually going to sell out - and this blog post will one day bite me in the butt if I do.

So I’d like to raise my imaginary glass of expensive wine to selling out.

Cheers.

Anankāi d’oude theoi machontai. - Simonides

I have just realized that I can listen to my reading assignments online. When Googling for the full text of Jack London’s The Law of Life, I came across an ESL-targeted learning site, which scrolled the text of the story across the screen in short sentences while a man with a gruff voice, particularly well-suited for London’s piece, read along. Brilliant! It may be that I have been living in a bubble, but I was not aware that these little gems existed until recently. Whether it is a youtube posting or a website dedicated to giving attention to “listener-learners,” I can’t get enough.

John Donne, “Death Be Not Proud”? I’m there! Check it out for yourself.

It’s true, there are three types of learning: visual, auditory, and kinesthetic. These websites tackle two out of the three types. And for all of you auditory learners out there looking for something to push you along through “Holy Sonnets,” or the like, these readings will save your life. Even if you are just looking for something to set your ears on for a moment, look up a poem or short story that interests you and listen up for yourself.

It’s been some time since I’ve gone to a church and actually sat down. I’ve been to many churches, but there is something about sitting down that holds a significance in which I wouldn’t allow myself to participate. Last night, Painted Bride Quarterly held its “Temptation at the Church” event at the First Unitarian Church in Philadelphia and I did sit down in a pew. As the event began, I was struck by there being not one focal point, but several. Each one of the chairs during the panel discussion held a different authority on temptation: a psychologist, a burlesque dancer, a pastry chef, an ex-drug dealer turned activist, and a pastor.

For a moment I thought that this must be what Pirsig’s Church of Reason would be like.

But after the discussion ended, I was surprised by how little conflict there had been among them (you’d think a pastor would have a few choice words for a young lady who lures men away from their wives to oggle sins of the flesh). In addition, the pastry chef was not fat, the burlesque dancer was not a whore, the pastor was not “orthodox”, the ex-drug dealer did not sell drugs, and the psychologist who did the moderating had not spoken to any of his panelists for more than a few moments. But by relinquishing the Jerry Springer-style entertainment that might have ensued from having a more extreme panel, the audience (or perhaps I should say laity) got was a universalized approach to the concept of temptation.

By the end, they seemed to have come to a certain understanding about temptation that boils down to something to the effect of:

Temptation is an attraction to something when (and only when) some form of resistance is present.

The rest sprung from there. I took a little issue with the phrase, “temptation allows us to exercise virtue,” when really if there was no temptation, there would be no virtue. But I realized that both my thought and the moderator’s were really one in the same; his was just a bit more “self-promoting.”

But that was kind of the point, to examine temptation as it pertains to different individuals. As Natalie Walker took the stage, everyone had a chance to absorb what had been said and some champagne punch (etc).

I stood in the corner with Frogg, the ex-drug dealer, rapping about teaching and linguistics. Lance was dressed in his tennis uniform circa 1973, and Lulu (the Burlesque dancer) was handing out business cards faster than a dealer in Vegas. Kathy, relieved now that the evening was a success, bopped around with her brother (a local journalist) or Albert, whose presence at so late an hour was as fun and rare as a comet sighting. Finally, I went out to the courtyard with Weaver and we watched people dance a little as the crescent moon fell over the skyline.

“Holy! Holy! Holy!” as the Beats used to say; a grand sermon from the Church of Reason, maybe you’ll let me have that. I wondered briefly what the other English majors were doing on a Thursday night. Doing their school work- hah, so were we.

With the hustle and bustle of the academic quarter slowly dwindling, the freedom of summer seems almost tangible. As a self-professed beach bum, I recognize the crucial importance of great summer reading. Rather than delving into those yucky, paperback romance novels at the supermarket or re-devouring old favorites, use this summer as a chance to explore new outlets in the elusive realm of literature. Since we love blogs here at Drexel Publishing, check out “Guardian Unlimited Books” for their Top Ten Literary Blogs. With oodles of personal picks and pans, the bloggers are sure to suggest something summer reading worthy.

P.S. - Note their first choice, “Bookslut.” Hah, lovely.

The Philadelphia speaker series, presented by Widener University, will kick off its 2008-2009 series with Steve Forbe, Editor-in-Chief of Forbes Magazine and former presidential candidate, on September 22, 2008 - Monday, 8pm at the Kimmel Center.

http://www.philadelphiaspeakersseries.org/

To everyone who made it out to “Temptation at the Church,”

Thank you so much for helping us to put on the most successful event at Painted Bride Quarterly, yet! The panel discussion was very well attended, and our panelists were entertaining and charismatic. The reception and live music were something to be marveled at. We hope everyone that made it to the First Unitarian Church on Thursday enjoyed themselves as much as we did.

Thanks!

Drexel Publishing Group & Painted Bride Quarterly

Emily Gould’s article for the NY Times describes how writing about her “real” life for people in her “online” life proved to be more detrimental than she thought. It led to a breakup with her boyfriend and a lack of privacy she never really expected. This piece is long, but well written, and echoes a lot of the sentiments you hear in regard to people blogging about their personal lives. You never know who might be reading it, what their thoughts could be, and how it may ineveitably effect your life.

Emily’s article is available here.

That’s right, avid readers; the Drexel Publishing Group consists of people who do, in fact, publish things. Our amazingly well-rounded, incredibly intellectual, and metaphysically autochthonous webmaster, Eric Zrinsky, has recently published his first book, Night Windows and Other Short Stories. It is readily available in paperback form for only $8 on Lulu.com, and can even be downloaded for half the price. We writers are an egotistical bunch, but Zrinsky might be one of the few who lack the vanity to post a blog about personal accomplishments, so I figured I’d spread the word. But in all seriousness, the kid can write - a copy of ‘Night Windows is money well spent.