* Barbara Epstein, founder and co-editor of The New York Review of Books, has died.
"She handled every kind of piece and worked with many famous writers, including Gore Vidal, W.H. Auden, Edmund Wilson and Larry McMurtry," Silvers said in a statement. "She brought to bear on all the work of the Review a superb intelligence, an exquisite sense of language, and a strong moral and political concern to expose and remedy injustice."
* Logrolling at the Times? We're shocked, shocked.
* Colm Toibin: Show me the money!
* South Africa's Alan Paton Award for non-fiction has gone to two autobiographies about life with AIDS. (Merci, Andie.)
* Time's Europe edition runs 10 questions with Wole Soyinka.
* The Age looks at the shortlist for the Miles Franklin award, to be given Friday.
* The Boston Globe reviews Mark Rothko's Writing on Art.
* The entire $40,000 budget granted the US Poet Laureate (hey, big spender!) comes entirely from donations. Meanwhile, the Globe rounds up reactions.
* Another review of The Man Who Saved Britain. Still looking forward to this one, despite this bit of reviewer lunacy:
There is just one error of judgment and it's a mistake most Bond aficionados make: Winder has little time for Roger Moore, who was in fact the best screen Bond of all. Moore was the only actor to see how fundamentally distasteful this character was and instead made him an eyebrow-waggling safari-suited wag. 'But James, I need you!' exclaims a blonde in a ski chalet in the pre-credits of The Spy Who Loved Me (1977). 'So does England' replies jaunty Roger, clad in a banana-yellow ski-suit. And all we can do is shout hooray for an age when that was considered blockbusting, top-grossing entertainment. Daniel Craig just won't be the same.
* Inside the brain of Canada's top fiction editor. (Speaking of Canada, the Bookers will head there in April to announce the shortlist for next year's Man Booker International Prize.)
* We've always felt alliterative headlines to be, well, a bit j-school.
Comments