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January 26, 2006

PRIZES BIG AND SMALL

The University of Illinois journal Ninth Letter has just won the "Best New Literary Journal" award from the Council of Editors of Learned Journals - which might not be quite as stunning as the £60,000 prize being offered to young writers by the Welsh in honor of Dylan Thomas - but probably has them feeling quite chuffed nonetheless.

Veteran and new talent are being published in Ninth Letter, including Pulitzer Prize-winner Robert Olen Butler; Dave Eggers – an Illinois alumnus and New York Times best-selling author; and Ann Beattie. The magazine’s editorial staff members are affiliated with the English department’s creative writing programs, and the design team comprises faculty and students in the School of Art and Design.

According to Stanley, the magazine’s “defining principle” remains the same today as it was at its founding: “We believe that literature and art reflect an ongoing dialogue; nothing is created in a void, and therefore, stories, poems, essays, visual arts and other forms of expression all speak to one another, reflect one another in some way.”

Posted at 12:20 AM in Prizes, Prizes and More Prizes |

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Comments

Pete

Maybe this news will finally prompt me to read their debut issue, which I bought almost two years ago. And I'm even a U of I grad. Shame on me.

Posted by: Pete | January 26, 2006 at 07:27 AM

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TEV DEFINED


  • The Elegant Variation is "Fowler’s (1926, 1965) term for the inept writer’s overstrained efforts at freshness or vividness of expression. Prose guilty of elegant variation calls attention to itself and doesn’t permit its ideas to seem naturally clear. It typically seeks fancy new words for familiar things, and it scrambles for synonyms in order to avoid at all costs repeating a word, even though repetition might be the natural, normal thing to do: The audience had a certain bovine placidity, instead of The audience was as placid as cows. Elegant variation is often the rock, and a stereotype, a cliché, or a tired metaphor the hard place between which inexperienced or foolish writers come to grief. The familiar middle ground in treating these homely topics is almost always the safest. In untrained or unrestrained hands, a thesaurus can be dangerous."

SECOND LOOK

  • The Bookshop by Penelope Fitzgerald

    Bs

    Penelope Fitzgerald's second novel is the tale of Florence Green, a widow who seeks, in the late 1950s, to bring a bookstore to an isolated British town, encountering all manner of obstacles, including incompetent builders, vindictive gentry, small minded bankers, an irritable poltergeist, but, above all, a town that might not, in fact, want a bookshop. Fitzgerald's prose is spare but evocative – there's no wasted effort and her work reminds one of Hemingway's dictum that every word should fight for its right to be on the page. Florence is an engaging creation, stubbornly committed to her plan even as uncertainty regarding the wisdom of the enterprise gnaws at her. But The Bookshop concerns itself, finally, with the astonishing vindictiveness of which provincials are capable, and, as so much English fiction must, it grapples with the inevitabilities of class. It's a dense marvel at 123 pages, a book you won't want to – or be able to – rush through.
  • The Rider by Tim Krabbe

    Rider_4

    Tim Krabbé's superb 1978 memoir-cum-novel is the single best book we've read about cycling, a book that will come closer to bringing you inside a grueling road race than anything else out there. A kilometer-by-kilometer look at just what is required to endure some of the most grueling terrain in the world, Krabbé explains the tactics, the choices and – above all – the grinding, endless, excruciating pain that every cyclist faces and makes it heart-pounding rather than expository or tedious. No writer has better captured both the agony and the determination to ride through the agony. He's an elegant stylist (ably served by Sam Garrett's fine translation) and The Rider manages to be that rarest hybrid – an authentic, accurate book about cycling that's a pleasure to read. "Non-racers," he writes. "The emptiness of those lives shocks me."

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