Context N°13

by Anne Burke

Foundations . . .

Is there anyone working at a foundation in the United States who can name a single book written by an Iraqi? a Syrian? a Jordanian? an Iranian? Does this suggest what is wrong with foundations in the United States with their self-imposed and self-righteous mandates to promote peace and understanding? Further, why are these same foundations so utterly disinterested in supporting translations of books from these countries? (Though the latter is what we popularly call a “rhetorical question,” I would be very interested in someone at a foundation answering it.)

Agents and such . . .

Why is there not a single book by Stephen Wright in print? Does he have an agent? What exactly is it that agents do? Who is his agent? Though to be absolutely correct here, I should point out that a paperback edition of Going Native is selling for $19.00 on Amazon. Which means what exactly? Well, exactly, it means that it is available “on-demand,” and thus the inflated price. As I was saying, just which incompetent out there is his agent?

Poets against the war . . .

Here is a simple matter: if you want to oppose war (or anything else for that matter), get your ass out on the street and risk something, but do not abuse poetry any more than it is already abused by writing (and then, dear God, reading aloud!) some piece of worthless crap. Since the beginning of mankind, there have been written only three good “war protest” poems, but in each case I suspect that the poets were, as poets do, appropriating war as materials for their poems. In short, they may not have been all that sincere. As to the rest of you, stop degrading the language and the form.

Dave Eggers . . .

Several times I have wanted to say something about Dave Eggers but didn’t.

The first was when I initially came across his magazine McSweeney’s, which was brought to my attention by Martin Riker’s review of it in CONTEXT #1. Mr. Riker is kinder than I. I thought at the time that this magazine had to go in either of two directions: get more risky, have opinions about things, and thereby develop enemies; or, stay just hip, ironic-ironic, and cute. It had a lot of promise. It stayed the latter, and quickly became the must-have (if not read) magazine for hip people who don’t know any better. The New Yorker for hip folks.

The second time was when his rather badly written Genius book came out. The book was no more than all right, but was ingeniously marketed, as is everything with Mr. Eggers. The night I heard him interviewed by Terry Gross, I nearly puked. Safe, while seeming not to be. Funny, but not outrageous. Self-effacing, and yet very caught up in himself. And Terry loved it. As I am sure her audience did as well. It was clear that Mr. Eggers was becoming the guy to read, a daring writer, an engaging writer, perhaps even a somewhat challenging writer. Just the kind of writer that people who read six books per year like to discover and embrace, and feel that they too are now part of the culture.

The third time was when I saw him perform. And a performance is what he does, not a reading. This night, I believe, he read reader responses from friends that were posted on Amazon.com. He was in his anti-corporate mood that night. But then he almost always is. The audience loved him, and I admit that he was funny at times, and he saved me from having to hear him read from his Genius book. Not bad. But someone on the make, and someone who knew how to make it.

The fourth time was when I heard that the Wylie Agency in New York was now representing Mr. Eggers. Anti-corporate, indeed. Does Mr. Eggers make jokes about agents in his stand-up routines, and if he does, is Andrew Wylie ever the butt of those jokes? I don’t know because I do not go out of my way to see or hear what Mr. Eggers is up to. But, I think not. Or if he is, he has found a good-natured way to talk about people whose business is to reduce all literary art to its market value, something akin to the hogs and cows on market in Chicago.

And now the last time, and what motivates me to write. Last night I was watching that very peculiar show called Dinner for Five on the Independent Film Channel. I don’t know why I watch this thing except that its pretentiousness on several levels is wondrous. The moderator is, from what I can gather, a filmmaker of some sort, as well as an actor; I recognize him only as Rudy’s tutor in that beloved Notre Dame movie entitled Rudy. Somehow or other, this guy now has a half-hour show in which he and gutsy, irreverent, indie types (well, sort of indie types: Jeff Goldblum seems to be on every other show) sit around some restaurant having dinner, joking, telling the true and sordid stories of Hollywood, smoking cigars, drinking, laughing a lot, and so on. Part of the attraction of this show for me may lie in the fact that I have never heard any of these people say anything original or anything funny, even though the premise for their gathering together is that they are witty people who have all kinds of interesting things to say. So, it’s the enormous self-indulgence that I must find fascinating, almost hypnotizing.

At any rate, at the end of last week’s show—the guests had been Carrie Fisher, Ed Asner, and some others that I’ve already forgot—next week’s guests are announced. I can’t remember them all, but they include Janeane Garofalo, the guy who played Ralphie on The Sopranos and got whacked this year, probably Jeff Goldblum again, and . . . of course, Dave Eggers!!!! He has arrived!!! Not only is he hip as can be, but he is now hip in Hollywood, and on the hippest show around. . . . I don’t think I’ll be able to watch this show again. Everyone on the show officially “hates” Hollywood, and loves to talk about trying to get art past the money-hungry producers, etc., etc. That is, they are people who are now professional Hollywood-haters who live in Hollywood and make a career of talking about how corrupt Hollywood is, and yet someone has come out with this really interesting indie film, etc. In short, this is the perfect group for Eggers.

Why does all of this bother me? Oh, probably because Eggers could have gone in another direction rather than becoming a marketing genius whose genius depends upon his being anti-marketing. But he has just become another Barnum. And he’s wealthy, and people take him seriously but not too seriously because he’s DAVE EGGERS. He will probably have his own Sunday morning interview show ten years from now. And he will probably be a network color commentator for the next Presidential elections. And why not? George Stephanopoulos pulled it off with far less going for him.

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