How Philip K. Dick Disdained American Anti-Intellectualism and Found His Inspiration in Flaubert, Stendhal & Balzac

Despite some of the stranger cir­cum­stances of Philip K. Dick’s life, his rep­u­ta­tion as a para­noid guru is far bet­ter deserved by oth­er sci­ence fic­tion writ­ers who lost touch with real­i­ty. Dick was a seri­ous thinker and writer before pop cul­ture made him a prophet. Jonathan Letham wrote of him, “Dick wasn’t a leg­end and he wasn’t mad. He lived among us and was a genius.” It’s a fash­ion­able opin­ion these days, but his genius went most­ly unrec­og­nized in his lifetime—at least in his home country—except among a sub­set of sci-fi read­ers. But Dick con­sid­ered him­self a lit­er­ary writer. He left the Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia after less than a semes­ter, but the “con­sum­mate auto­di­dact” read wide­ly and deeply, favor­ing the giants of Euro­pean phi­los­o­phy, the­ol­o­gy, and lit­er­a­ture. For this rea­son, Dick sus­pect­ed that his tepid recep­tion in the U.S., by com­par­i­son with the warm regard of the French, showed a “flawed” anti-intel­lec­tu­al­ism in Amer­i­cans that pre­vent­ed them from appre­ci­at­ing his work. In the 1977 edit­ed inter­view above with Dick in France, you can hear him lay out his the­o­ry in detail, offer­ing insights along the way into his lit­er­ary edu­ca­tion and influ­ences.

Dick iden­ti­fies two strains of anti-intel­lec­tu­al­ism in the U.S. The first, he says, pre­vents Amer­i­can read­ers from appre­ci­at­ing “nov­els of ideas.” Sci­ence fic­tion, he says, “is essen­tial­ly the field of ideas. And the anti-intel­lec­tu­al­ism of Amer­i­cans pro­hibits their inter­est in imag­i­na­tive ideas and inter­est­ing con­cepts.”

I don’t find Dick par­tic­u­lar­ly per­sua­sive here, but I live in a time when he has been ful­ly embraced, if only in adap­ta­tion. Dick’s more spe­cif­ic take on what may be a root cause for Amer­i­cans’ lack of curios­i­ty has to do with the read­ing habits of Amer­i­cans.

There’s anoth­er facet as regards my par­tic­u­lar work say com­pared to oth­er sci­ence fic­tion writ­ers. I grew up in Berke­ley and my edu­ca­tion was not lim­it­ed at all to read­ing oth­er sci­ence fic­tion nov­els pre­ced­ing my own, such as van Vogt, or Hein­lein, or peo­ple of that kind… Pad­gett, and so on…. Brad­bury. What I read, because it’s a uni­ver­si­ty city,  was Flaubert, Stend­hal, Balzac… Proust, and the Russ­ian nov­el­ists influ­enced by the French. Tur­genev. And I even read Japan­ese nov­els, mod­ern Japan­ese nov­els, nov­el­ists who were influ­enced by the French real­is­tic writ­ers.

Dick says his “slice of life” nov­els were well received in France because he based them on 19th French real­ist nov­els. His favorite, he tells the inter­view­er, were Madame Bovary and The Red and the Black, as well as Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons — all found in our col­lec­tion of Free eBooks and Free Audio BooksPer­haps a lit­tle self-impor­tant­ly, in his par­tic­u­lar con­cep­tion of him­self as a lit­er­ary writer, Dick dis­tances him­self from oth­er Amer­i­can sci­ence fic­tion authors, whom he alleges share the Amer­i­can reader’s anti-intel­lec­tu­al propen­si­ties. “I think this applies to me more than oth­er Amer­i­can sci­ence fic­tion writ­ers,” says Dick, “In fact, I think that it’s a great flaw in Amer­i­can sci­ence fic­tion writ­ers, and their read­ers, that they are insu­lat­ed from the great lit­er­a­ture of the world.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Robert Crumb Illus­trates Philip K. Dick’s Infa­mous, Hal­lu­ci­na­to­ry Meet­ing with God (1974)

The Penul­ti­mate Truth About Philip K. Dick: Doc­u­men­tary Explores the Mys­te­ri­ous Uni­verse of PKD

Free Philip K. Dick: Down­load 13 Great Sci­ence Fic­tion Sto­ries

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Jack Kerouac Lists 9 Essentials for Writing Spontaneous Prose

Image by  Tom Palum­bo, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

Jack Ker­ouac wants you to turn writ­ing into “free devi­a­tion (asso­ci­a­tion) of mind into lim­it­less blow-on-sub­ject seas of thought, swim­ming in sea of Eng­lish with no dis­ci­pline, oth­er than rhythms of rhetor­i­cal exha­la­tion and expos­tu­lat­ed state­ment….” Think you can do that? Find out by fol­low­ing Kerouac’s “Essen­tials of Spon­ta­neous Prose.” He pub­lished this doc­u­ment in Black Moun­tain Review in 1957 and wrote it in response to a request from Allen Gins­berg and William S. Bur­roughs that he explain his method for writ­ing The Sub­ter­raneans in three days time.

And for a the­o­ry of Kerouac’s not quite the­o­ry, vis­it the site of Maris­sa M. Juarez, pro­fes­sor of Rhetoric, Com­po­si­tion, and the Teach­ing of Eng­lish at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Ari­zona. Juarez rais­es some salient points about why Kerouac’s “Essen­tials” bemuse the Eng­lish teacher: His method “dis­cour­ages revi­sion… chas­tis­es gram­mat­i­cal cor­rect­ness, and encour­ages writer­ly flex­i­bil­i­ty.” Read Kerouac’s full “Essen­tials of Spon­ta­neous Prose” here or below. [Note: If you see what looks like typos, they are not errors. They are part of Ker­ouac’s orig­i­nal, spon­ta­neous text.]

SET-UP: The object is set before the mind, either in real­i­ty. as in sketch­ing (before a land­scape or teacup or old face) or is set in the mem­o­ry where­in it becomes the sketch­ing from mem­o­ry of a def­i­nite image-object.

PROCEDURE: Time being of the essence in the puri­ty of speech, sketch­ing lan­guage is undis­turbed flow from the mind of per­son­al secret idea-words, blow­ing (as per jazz musi­cian) on sub­ject of image.

METHOD: No peri­ods sep­a­rat­ing sen­tence-struc­tures already arbi­trar­i­ly rid­dled by false colons and timid usu­al­ly need­less com­mas-but the vig­or­ous space dash sep­a­rat­ing rhetor­i­cal breath­ing (as jazz musi­cian draw­ing breath between out­blown phras­es)– “mea­sured paus­es which are the essen­tials of
our speech”– “divi­sions of the sounds we hear”- “time and how to note it down.” (William Car­los Williams)

SCOPING: Not “selec­tiv­i­ty” of expres­sion but fol­low­ing free devi­a­tion (asso­ci­a­tion) of mind into lim­it­less blow-on-sub­ject seas of thought,
swim­ming in sea of Eng­lish with no dis­ci­pline oth­er than rhythms of rhetor­i­cal exha­la­tion and expos­tu­lat­ed state­ment, like a fist com­ing down on a table with each com­plete utter­ance, bang! (the space dash)- Blow as deep as you want-write as deeply, fish as far down as you want, sat­is­fy your­self first, then read­er can­not fail to receive tele­path­ic shock and mean­ing-excite­ment by same laws oper­at­ing in his own human mind.

LAG IN PROCEDURE: No pause to think of prop­er word but the infan­tile pile­up of scat­o­log­i­cal buildup words till sat­is­fac­tion is gained, which will turn out to be a great append­ing rhythm to a thought and be in accor­dance with Great Law of tim­ing.

TIMING: Noth­ing is mud­dy that runs in time and to laws of time-Shake­spear­i­an stress of dra­mat­ic need to speak now in own unal­ter­able way or for­ev­er hold tongue-no revi­sions (except obvi­ous ratio­nal mis­takes, such as names or cal­cu­lat­ed inser­tions in act of not writ­ing but insert­ing).

CENTER OF INTEREST: Begin not from pre­con­ceived idea of what to say about image but from jew­el cen­ter of inter­est in sub­ject of image at moment of writ­ing, and write out­wards swim­ming in sea of lan­guage to periph­er­al release and exhaus­tion-Do not after­think except for poet­ic or P. S. rea­sons. Nev­er after­think to “improve” or defray impres­sions, as, the best writ­ing is always the most painful per­son­al wrung-out tossed from cra­dle warm pro­tec­tive mind-tap from your­self the song of your­self, blow!-now!-your way is your only way- “good”-or “bad”-always hon­est (“ludi- crous”), spon­ta­neous, “con­fes­sion­als’ inter­est­ing, because not “craft­ed.” Craft is craft.

STRUCTURE OF WORK: Mod­ern bizarre struc­tures (sci­ence fic­tion, etc.) arise from lan­guage being dead, “dif­fer­ent” themes give illu­sion of “new” life. Fol­low rough­ly out­lines in out­fan­ning move­ment over sub­ject, as riv­er rock, so mind­flow over jew­el-cen­ter need (run your mind over it, once) arriv­ing at piv­ot, where what was dim-formed “begin­ning” becomes sharp-neces­si­tat­ing “end­ing” and lan­guage short­ens in race to wire of time-race of work, fol­low­ing laws of Deep Form, to con­clu­sion, last words, last trick­le-Night is The End.

MENTAL STATE: If pos­si­ble write “with­out con­scious­ness” in semi-trance (as Yeats’ lat­er “trance writ­ing”) allow­ing sub­con­scious to admit in own unin­hib­it­ed inter­est­ing nec­es­sary and so “mod­ern” lan­guage what con­scious art would cen­sor, and write excit­ed­ly, swift­ly, with writ­ing-or-typ­ingcramps, in accor­dance (as from cen­ter to periph­ery) with laws of orgasm, Reich’s “becloud­ing of con­scious­ness.” Come from with­in, out-to relaxed and said.

Oh, and for authenticity’s sake, you should try Kerouac’s “Essen­tials” on a type­writer. It’s all he had when he wrote The Sub­ter­raneans. No gram­mar robots to dis­tract him.

via Al Fil­ries

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Jack Kerouac’s 30 Beliefs and Tech­niques For Writ­ing Mod­ern Prose

Cor­mac McCarthy’s Three Punc­tu­a­tion Rules, and How They All Go Back to James Joyce

William S. Bur­roughs’ Short Class on Cre­ative Read­ing

“Expan­sive Poet­ics” by Allen Gins­berg: A Free Course from 1981

Allen Ginsberg’s “Celes­tial Home­work”: A Read­ing List for His Class “Lit­er­ary His­to­ry of the Beats”

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Crash Course on Literature: Watch John Green’s Fun Introductions to Gatsby, Catcher in the Rye & Other Classics

As a pre­teen, I steered clear of “young adult” fic­tion, a form I resent­ful­ly sus­pect­ed would try too hard to teach me lessons. Then again, if I’d had a young adult nov­el­ist like John Green — not far out of ado­les­cence him­self when I entered the YA demo­graph­ic — per­haps I’d have active­ly hoped for a les­son or two. While Green has earned a large part of his fame writ­ing nov­els like Look­ing for Alas­kaAn Abun­dance of Kather­ines, and The Fault in Our Stars, a siz­able chunk of his renown comes from his pro­lif­ic way with inter­net videos, espe­cial­ly of the edu­ca­tion­al vari­ety, which also demon­strate his pos­ses­sion of seri­ous teach­ing acu­men. Last year we fea­tured his 40-week Crash Course in World His­to­ry, and today we offer you his col­lec­tion of crash cours­es in Eng­lish lit­er­a­ture. At the top, you’ll find its first les­son, the sev­en-minute “How and Why We Read.” Green, in the same jokey, enthu­si­as­tic onscreen per­sona as before, fol­lows up his world his­to­ry course by remind­ing us of the impor­tance of writ­ing as a mark­er of civ­i­liza­tion, and then reveals his per­son­al per­spec­tive as a writer: “I don’t want to get all lib­er­al art­sy on you, but I do want to make this clear: for me, sto­ries are about com­mu­ni­ca­tion. We did­n’t invent gram­mar so that your life would be mis­er­able in grade school as you attempt­ed to learn what the Márquez a prepo­si­tion is. By the way, on this pro­gram I will be insert­ing names of my favorite writ­ers when I would oth­er­wise insert curse words.”

Those lines give you a sense of Green’s tone, as well as his objec­tive. If you felt mis­er­able not just study­ing gram­mar in grade school but study­ing actu­al lit­er­a­ture in high school, these lessons may well revi­tal­ize a few of the clas­sics with which you could­n’t engage in the class­room. Just above, we have Green’s crash course on F. Scott Fitzger­ald’s The Great Gats­by (part one, part two) which, ear­ly on, gets inter­rupt­ed by a famil­iar-look­ing young objec­tor: “Mr. Green, I hate every­thing about this stu­pid col­lec­tion of first-world prob­lems pass­ing for a nov­el, but my hatred of that Willa Cather-ing los­er Daisy Buchanan burns with the fire of a thou­sand suns.” This draws a groan from our host: “Ugh, me from the past. Here’s the thing: you’re not sup­posed to like Daisy Buchanan, at least not in the uncom­pli­cat­ed way you like, say, cup­cakes. I don’t know where you got the idea the qual­i­ty of a nov­el should be judged by the lik­a­bil­i­ty of its char­ac­ters, but let me sub­mit to you that Daisy Buchanan does­n’t have to be lik­able to be inter­est­ing. Fur­ther­more, most of what makes her unlik­able — her sense of enti­tle­ment, her lim­it­ed empa­thy, her inabil­i­ty to make dif­fi­cult choic­es — are the very things that make you unlik­able.” Green knows that many of us, no mat­ter how lit­er­ate, still fall back into the dis­ad­van­ta­geous read­ing strate­gies for which we set­tled in high school. He does his enter­tain­ing utmost to cor­rect them while explor­ing the deep­er themes of not just Gats­by, but oth­er such oft-assigned (and oft-ruined-for-kids) works as Romeo and Juli­et (part one, part two), the poet­ry of Emi­ly Dick­in­son, and, below, The Catch­er in the Rye (part one, part two):

A Crash Course on Lit­er­a­ture will be added to our handy col­lec­tion: 200 Free Kids Edu­ca­tion­al Resources: Video Lessons, Apps, Books, Web­sites & More

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Crash Course in World His­to­ry

The 55 Strangest, Great­est Films Nev­er Made (Cho­sen by John Green)

Free Lit­er­a­ture Cours­es

Study Finds That Read­ing Tol­stoy & Oth­er Great Nov­el­ists Can Increase Your Emo­tion­al Intel­li­gence

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Pride and Prejudice Translated into Academiotics (and More Fun with Scholarly Jargon)

pride and prejudice academic

Over at The New York­er, Vic­to­ria Dai­ley is hav­ing a lit­tle fun trans­lat­ing lines from Jane Austen’s Pride Prej­u­dice into “Acad­e­mi­otics” — in short, aca­d­e­m­ic speak. Here’s a lit­tle taste for you:

“It is a truth uni­ver­sal­ly acknowl­edged, that a sin­gle man in pos­ses­sion of a good for­tune, must be in want of a wife.”

Trans­la­tion:

The het­ero­gene­ity of assumed inten­tions may incur a con­clu­so­ry stereo­type regard­ing gen­der selec­tions in mar­riage-based soci­eties, espe­cial­ly in those where the mas­cu­line hege­mo­ny of cap­i­tal resources pre­sup­pos­es the fem­i­niza­tion of prop­er­ty and uxo­r­i­al acqui­si­tion.

Is tak­ing shots at human­ists not your favorite sport? It’s just too easy? Maybe spoof­ing social sci­en­tists is more your thing? Then you can read all about the Ser­bian aca­d­e­mics who recent­ly pub­lished  a com­plete­ly fab­ri­cat­ed arti­cle in a Roman­ian jour­nal. The pub­lished arti­cle itself, “Eval­u­a­tion of trans­for­ma­tive hermeneu­tic heuris­tics for pro­cess­ing ran­dom data,” appears on Scribd.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

John Sear­le on Fou­cault and the Obscu­ran­tism in French Phi­los­o­phy

Noam Chom­sky Slams Žižek and Lacan: Emp­ty ‘Pos­tur­ing’

The Recipes of Icon­ic Authors: Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath, Roald Dahl, the Mar­quis de Sade & More

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Watch Lovebirds Amanda Palmer and Neil Gaiman Sing “Makin’ Whoopee!” Live

Aman­da Palmer and Neil Gaiman strike me as a very hap­pi­ly mar­ried cou­ple, an impres­sion their live cov­er of Makin’ Whoopee sup­ports.

What’s their secret? As any­one with an inter­est in romance or Earth Sci­ence will tell you, oppo­sites attract. On the sur­face of things, the exhi­bi­tion­is­tic, high­ly the­atri­cal, always con­tro­ver­sial Palmer is quite dif­fer­ent from her unfail­ing­ly dis­creet hus­band of the last two-and-a-half years. (Watch him mine his ret­i­cence to great com­ic effect at the 2.52 mark.)

That’s not to say they don’t have things in com­mon.

Both are insane­ly pro­lif­ic, the fruits of their labors dis­played across a vari­ety of plat­forms—music, comics, film, lit­er­a­ture, com­mence­ment speech­es, TED talks, Twit­ter

Both have rabid fan bases and blogs (Hers accepts com­ments; his does not.)

He was raised in a Sci­en­tol­o­gist house­hold. She scrawled Nope. Not plan­ning to fund Sci­en­tol­ogy with my Kick­starter mon­ey. That would be dumb on her nude tor­so, then post­ed a self­ie on her web­site, thus pour­ing gaso­line on the fires that pow­er that por­tion of the inter­net devot­ed to spread­ing mis­in­for­ma­tion about their reli­gious affil­i­a­tion.

And while he has three chil­dren from a pre­vi­ous mar­riage, the Gaiman-Palmer union has yet to pro­duce any lit­tle Neil or Aman­das. Which brings us back to Makin’ Whoopee. Whether or not the lyrics jibe with one’s per­son­al out­look, the song’s endur­ing pop­u­lar­i­ty (85 years and count­ing) might sug­gest its cen­tral dilem­ma is ever­green. Its bio­log­i­cal obser­va­tions are cer­tain­ly above reproach: sex often leads to babies, who lead to the sort of respon­si­bil­i­ties that sig­nal the end of the hon­ey­moon, if not the mar­riage.

Per­haps an open rela­tion­ship in the whoopee depart­ment will con­tin­ue to keep things play­ful between the Gaiman-Palmers, regard­less of what their future holds. It’s real­ly none of our busi­ness, is it?

(Those drawn to spec­u­la­tion, could do so live, when the alt.power-couple (Naman­da? Ameil?) bring their “inti­mate night” of spo­ken word, songs, sto­ries, audi­ence chats and sur­pris­es to New York City’s Town Hall.)

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Aman­da Palmer’s Tips for Being an Artist in the Rough-and-Tum­ble Dig­i­tal Age

Down­load Neil Gaiman’s Free Short Sto­ries

Neil Gaiman Gives Grad­u­ates 10 Essen­tial Tips for Work­ing in the Arts

BBC Radio Adap­ta­tion of Neil Gaiman’s Nev­er­where Begins Sat­ur­day: A Pre­view

Ayun Hal­l­i­day must ten­der her regrets as she is direct­ing a cast of 15 home schooled teens in her hus­band’s musi­cal, Yeast Nation, that night. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Animated Video Explores the Invented Languages of Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones & Star Trek

“Is there any­thing sad­der than an Esper­an­tist?” a friend once jok­ing­ly asked me. “Two Esper­an­tists” might seem the nat­ur­al response, but hey, at least they could talk to each oth­er. Speak­ers of Esperan­to, the best-known con­struct­ed lan­guage, have wound up as the butt of more than a few jokes since the tongue’s inven­tor Lud­wig Lazarus Zamen­hof first made his utopi­an lin­guis­tic cre­ation pub­lic in 1887, intend­ing it as a tool to unite a frac­tious, nation­al­is­tic mankind. (A noble ori­gin, bal­anced by such less-noble uses such as that William Shat­ner hor­ror movie.) Yet Esperan­to has actu­al­ly enjoyed sin­gu­lar suc­cess, by the stan­dards of con­struct­ed lan­guages. In the five-minute TED Ed les­son above (and the expand­ed one at TED Ed’s own site), lin­guist John McWhort­er tells us about the inven­tion of oth­er, less­er-known “con­langs,” includ­ing Elvish, Klin­gon, Dothra­ki, and Na’vi. If you’ve nev­er heard any of those spo­ken, don’t feel unwor­thy; maybe you just haven’t suf­fi­cient­ly explored con­struct­ed worlds like those in which Game of Thrones, Avatar, Star Trek, and The Lord of the Rings take place.

McWhort­er makes a spe­cial point of Elvish since, in con­struct­ing it for use in The Lord of the Rings’ Mid­dle-Earth, J.R.R . Tolkien made a lin­guis­tic effort with lit­tle prece­dent in mod­ern lit­er­a­ture. He took the pains, in fact, to con­struct not just a plau­si­ble Elvish lan­guage but a plau­si­ble set of Elvish lan­guages. “Tolkien chart­ed out ancient and new­er ver­sions of Elvish. When the first Elves awoke at Cuiv­ié­nen, in their new lan­guage the word for peo­ple was kwen­di, but in the lan­guage of one of the groups that moved away, Teleri, over time kwen­di became pen­di. Just like real lan­guages, con­langs like Elvish split off into many. When the Romans trans­plant­ed Latin across Europe, French, Span­ish, and Ital­ian were born.” Hence, in our real­i­ty, a vari­ety of words for hand like mainmanus, and mano, and in Tolkien’s real­i­ty, a vari­ety of words for peo­ple like kwen­dipen­di, and kin­di. But Elvish now finds itself sur­passed in gram­mat­i­cal com­plex­i­ty and breadth of vocab­u­lary by the likes of Klin­gon, Dothra­ki, and Na’vi, whose fans have put as much ener­gy into expand­ing them as their cre­ators. And those inter­est­ed in sim­i­lar­ly robust “real” con­langs — i.e., those not built for a fic­tion­al realm, but for ours — might take a look at Ithkuil, whose cre­ator John Qui­ja­da was recent­ly pro­filed in the New York­er by Joshua Foer. You’ll also not want to miss this past post on Open Cul­ture where Tolkien Reads Poems from The Fel­low­ship of the Ring, in Elvish and Eng­lish (1952). Or just lis­ten to the read­ing below.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The His­to­ry of the Eng­lish Lan­guage in Ten Ani­mat­ed Min­utes

Speak­ing in Whis­tles: The Whis­tled Lan­guage of Oax­a­ca, Mex­i­co

Down­load Eight Free Lec­tures on The Hob­bit by “The Tolkien Pro­fes­sor,” Corey Olsen

Find Esperan­to Tips in our col­lec­tion of Free Online For­eign Lan­guage Lessons

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Ernest Hemingway’s Delusional Adventures in Boxing: “My Writing is Nothing, My Boxing is Everything.”

In a 1954 inter­view in the Paris Review, Ralph Elli­son said of one of his lit­er­ary heroes: “When [Ernest Hem­ing­way] describes some­thing in print, believe him; believe him even when he describes the process of art in terms of base­ball or box­ing; he’s been there.” I read this think­ing that Elli­son might be a bit too cred­u­lous. Hem­ing­way, after all, has pro­voked no end of eye-rolling for his leg­endary machis­mo, brava­do, and maybe sev­er­al dozen oth­er Latin descrip­tors for mas­cu­line fool­har­di­ness and blus­ter. As for his “box­ing,” we would be wise not to believe him. He may have “been there,” but the real box­ers he encoun­tered, and tried to spar with, would nev­er tes­ti­fy he knew what he was doing

Ernest Hem­ing­way wasn’t a box­er so much as he was a “box­er”… a leg­end in his own mind, a roman­tic. Hemingway’s friend and some­time spar­ring part­ner, nov­el­ist Mor­ley Callaghan tells it this way: “we were two ama­teur box­ers. The dif­fer­ence between us was that he had giv­en time and imag­i­na­tion to box­ing; I had actu­al­ly worked out a lot with good fast col­lege box­ers.” Or, as the author of an arti­cle on the Fine Books & Col­lec­tions site has it, “Hem­ing­way was lost in the romance of a sport that has no romance to those seri­ous­ly pur­su­ing it; the romance strict­ly belongs to spec­ta­tors.”

As a spec­ta­tor with pre­ten­tions to great­ness in the sport, Papa was prone to over­es­ti­mat­ing his abil­i­ties, at the expense of his actu­al skill as a writer. As he would tell Josephine Herb­st, with­out a hint of irony, “my writ­ing is noth­ing, my box­ing is every­thing.”

Hemingwayletter

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How did the pros eval­u­ate his self-pro­fessed abil­i­ty? Jack Dempsey, who spent time in Paris in the ‘20s being fet­ed and fawned over, had this to say of Hemingway’s aspi­ra­tions:

There were a lot of Amer­i­cans in Paris and I sparred with a cou­ple, just to be oblig­ing…. But there was one fel­low I would­n’t mix it with. That was Ernest Hem­ing­way. He was about twen­ty-five or so and in good shape, and I was get­ting so I could read peo­ple, or any­way men, pret­ty well. I had this sense that Hem­ing­way, who real­ly thought he could box, would come out of the cor­ner like a mad­man. To stop him, I would have to hurt him bad­ly, I did­n’t want to do that to Hem­ing­way. That’s why I nev­er sparred with him.

Giv­en Hemingway’s pen­chant for self-delu­sion in this mat­ter, he may have inter­pret­ed this as Dempsey’s capit­u­la­tion to his obvi­ous prowess. An even more scathing cri­tique of Hemingway’s bul­ly­ing… I mean box­ing skill … comes to us via Book­tryst’s Stephen J. Gertz, who prof­fers an amus­ing dis­sec­tion of the let­ter above, an unpub­lished cor­re­spon­dence Hem­ing­way sent in 1943 to George Brown, the writer’s “train­er, coach, friend, and fac­to­tum.” Brown, it seems, was kind­ly, or pru­dent, enough to encour­age his employ­er in his delu­sions. How­ev­er, Gertz writes, “the real­i­ty was that any­one who had even the slight­est idea of what they were doing in the ring could take Hem­ing­way, who was noto­ri­ous for fool­ish­ly try­ing to actu­al­ly fight trained box­ers.” He’s lucky, then, that Dempsey prac­ticed such judi­cious restraint. If not, we may nev­er have seen any fic­tion from Hem­ing­way after he tried to go a round or two with the champ.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ernest Hem­ing­way to F. Scott Fitzger­ald: “Kiss My Ass”

18 (Free) Books Ernest Hem­ing­way Wished He Could Read Again for the First Time

Ernest Hemingway’s Favorite Ham­burg­er Recipe

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Study Finds That Reading Tolstoy & Other Great Novelists Can Increase Your Emotional Intelligence

tolstoy social intelligence

A new study pub­lished this week in Sci­ence con­cludes that you may get some­thing unex­pect­ed from read­ing great lit­er­ary works: more fine­ly-tuned social and emo­tion­al skills. Con­duct­ed by Emanuele Cas­tano and David Com­er Kidd (researchers in the psych depart­ment at the New School for Social Research), the study deter­mined that read­ers of lit­er­ary fic­tion (as opposed to pop­u­lar fic­tion or non-fic­tion) find them­selves scor­ing bet­ter on tests mea­sur­ing empa­thy, social per­cep­tion and emo­tion­al intel­li­gence. In some cas­es, it took read­ing lit­er­ary fic­tion for only a few min­utes for test scores to improve.

The New York Times has a nice overview of the study, where, among oth­er things, it fea­tures a quote by Albert Wend­land, an Eng­lish pro­fes­sor at Seton Hall, who puts the rela­tion­ship between lit­er­a­ture and social intel­li­gence into clear terms: “Read­ing sen­si­tive and lengthy explo­rations of people’s lives, that kind of fic­tion is lit­er­al­ly putting your­self into anoth­er person’s posi­tion — lives that could be more dif­fi­cult, more com­plex, more than what you might be used to in pop­u­lar fic­tion. It makes sense that they will find that, yeah, that can lead to more empa­thy and under­stand­ing of oth­er lives.”

If you’re look­ing to increase your abil­i­ty to nav­i­gate com­plex social sit­u­a­tions — and have a plea­sur­able time doing it — then grab a good book. One place to start is with our recent post: The 10 Great­est Books Ever, Accord­ing to 125 Top Authors (Down­load Them for Free). Or sim­ply dive into our col­lec­tion of 500 Free eBooks, which includes many great clas­sics.

via Peter Kauf­man, mas­ter­mind of The Intel­li­gent Chan­nel

Relat­ed Con­tent:

David Bowie’s List of Top 100 Books

18 (Free) Books Ernest Hem­ing­way Wished He Could Read Again for the First Time

Neil deGrasse Tyson Lists 8 (Free) Books Every Intel­li­gent Per­son Should Read

550 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free

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