The Elegant Variation points out this Jonathan Yardley article that states the amazing thing about the The Great Gatsby is “not merely that it is Fitzgerald’s masterwork but that it is the American masterwork, the finest work of fiction by any of this country’s writers.” I can’t say I disagree. Although Faulkner’s work might feature more literary pyrotechnics, I’m not sure his work is as emotionally moving as well. I’ve always picked The Great Gatsby because I think it’s spectacular on both an intellectual and emotional level.
Ed shows us what would happen if Pynchon handed in Against the Day for a MFA workshop.
Gawker is fighting the good fight in a battle that pisses me off to no end: deadbeat publications. I love the person who writes, “Fuckers owe me $250 since August. I’ve written them about a dozen times asking for my money. We’re working on it, they always say. Then my editor there says, I’m so sorry. I can’t wait until they send me a 1099, so I get to pay taxes on income I never received.”
If you’re a female middle-school student and you can be the CEO of a major corporation, the president of an Ivy League university, a Navy SEAL, a U.S. senator or “the personal assistant to a very famous singer or movie star,” almost half of you will choose to get Lindsay’s cappuccino according to Fame Junkies: The Hidden Truths Behind America’s Favorite Addiction.