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The attractive pair is surrounded by blooms, sunlight, even a deli’s beckoning door.Their future is plentiful and bright—and there is not an i Pad in sight.I like the idea of contrasting Amélie Nothomb’s European vision of her favorite country with Murakami’s, who is often presented as the most western of Japanese authors.
How far we’ve come since 2005’s dark days, when editors winnowed fiction down to a yearly newsstand-only digest! But they were ) is on its umpteenth web redesign, a go-to online entity that has, if anything, cannibalized the magazine.It’s a Bookforum highlight, as is the entire “Fiction and Politics” supplement, and we urge you to check it out.Reuters' "Oddly Enough" column ventures this week into the realm of literary history and intrigue: The mystery of Schiller's skull.The now-quaint rationale was, “Reporting consumes a lot of space.” But in fiscal year 2009, when book review sections shriveled and houses purged editors and authors alike, dreamy fabulists, note: the enthusiast who wallpapers his bathroom with covers, or the public radio supporter who accepts the free tote though clearly informed this has diminished her pledge. While bloggers Megan Mc Ardle and Ta-Nehisi Coates crank out high-concept cover pieces, P. O’Rourke and critic Mark Steyn, the golden mean of the magazine’s original libertarian readership, have been gently phased out.Like these other fans, my outlet of choice has passed beyond pastime: it has become manifest as some previously inexpressible part of myself, one best revealed through a convenient duck hat or fashionable messenger bag—though part of the appeal is that instead of redesigning its tote bags, it convenes a panel discussion. First, there was 2006’s “tech” column, in which James Fallows gamely chin-stroked over such wonders as Microsoft One Note (“What makes some software ‘interesting,’ as opposed to merely usable? Welcome to newer hires Sandra Tsing Loh and Caitlin Flanagan—the original Tipsy Belden and Nancy Shrew—who duel it out almost every issue, the better to draw women everywhere by offending all of them.
When he died of tuberculosis in his forties, Friedrich Schiller, the eighteenth-century German Romantic poet, playwright, and philosopher, was buried in a mass grave.