'‘[On reading Malouf for the first time] Here was a very-much-alive half-Lebanese writer (from provincial Brisbane, no less) producing English-language writing of the very first order. (We spoke like this.) And in prose, not poetry. The poetry was in the prose; it stayed and sprung its rhythms, chorded its ideas, concentrated its images. Every other novel claims to be written in ‘poetic prose’; the real thing, when you come across it, is actually shocking.’
'On David Malouf is unlike anything else written about one of Australia’s most acclaimed writers. Nam Le, author of international literary sensation The Boat, takes the reader on a thrilling intellectual ride in this sharp, bold essay.
'Its ambitious scope encompasses identity politics, metaphysics, the relationship between life and art, and the complexities of the ‘Australianness’ of Malouf’s work. Revealing much about his own experiences, Le makes a passionate case for the ‘personal, artistic sovereignty’ of all writers. This book is an enthralling meeting of minds and a must-read for lovers of literature.'
Source: Publisher's blurb.
'As an explanation of how authors and individual texts are received and responded to over time, American critic Harold Bloom’s theory of “the anxiety of influence” is as old as this reviewer and far more durable.' (Introduction)
'“School, as everyone knows, is where books go to get sterilised,” writes Nam Le in his essay On David Malouf, part of Black Inc’s “Writers on Writers” series. But if a classroom can sound the death knell for a love of literature, Le does the opposite in this intellectually rigorous monograph. Less literary critique than a personal exploration of race, politics and art, it sees Le using Malouf as a springboard for his own meanderings and thoughts. These range from Le’s days as a student, cast out for his love of words, to his apprehensiveness at being used as a spokesperson for refugee issues: a default for many due to the fact that he and his parents arrived in Australia by boat.' (Introduction)
'For more than a decade the world has waited, patiently or disbelievingly, for a second book from Nam Le, author of The Boat (2008), a collection of seven tales that won the young Australian author acclaim throughout the world. Finally, it has arrived. A book-length essay running to about 15,000 words, it may not be what the ravenous world had in mind, but it is seriously interesting – interestingly interesting one might almost say. The volume appears in Black Inc.’s neat little Writers on Writers series, with its owlish photographs of authors and subjects: author on top, subject below. Until now there were four in the series, including Christos Tsiolkas on Patrick White, and Ceridwen Dovey on J.M. Coetzee. (Michelle de Kretser on Shirley Hazzard, due later this year, promises to be a notable pairing.)' (Introduction)
'As an explanation of how authors and individual texts are received and responded to over time, American critic Harold Bloom’s theory of “the anxiety of influence” is as old as this reviewer and far more durable.' (Introduction)
'For more than a decade the world has waited, patiently or disbelievingly, for a second book from Nam Le, author of The Boat (2008), a collection of seven tales that won the young Australian author acclaim throughout the world. Finally, it has arrived. A book-length essay running to about 15,000 words, it may not be what the ravenous world had in mind, but it is seriously interesting – interestingly interesting one might almost say. The volume appears in Black Inc.’s neat little Writers on Writers series, with its owlish photographs of authors and subjects: author on top, subject below. Until now there were four in the series, including Christos Tsiolkas on Patrick White, and Ceridwen Dovey on J.M. Coetzee. (Michelle de Kretser on Shirley Hazzard, due later this year, promises to be a notable pairing.)' (Introduction)
'“School, as everyone knows, is where books go to get sterilised,” writes Nam Le in his essay On David Malouf, part of Black Inc’s “Writers on Writers” series. But if a classroom can sound the death knell for a love of literature, Le does the opposite in this intellectually rigorous monograph. Less literary critique than a personal exploration of race, politics and art, it sees Le using Malouf as a springboard for his own meanderings and thoughts. These range from Le’s days as a student, cast out for his love of words, to his apprehensiveness at being used as a spokesperson for refugee issues: a default for many due to the fact that he and his parents arrived in Australia by boat.' (Introduction)
