Ben Katchor
Our man in Boston talks to author and artist Ben Katchor about the history of picture-stories—from the days when literature included drawings to our current world of (sadly) more purified genres.
Our man in Boston talks to author and artist Ben Katchor about the history of picture-stories—from the days when literature included drawings to our current world of (sadly) more purified genres.
Sometimes a book appears in your life and starts to pester you. The characters act like your friends. Events occur in the plot that reappear inside your home. It’s enough to drive a man to wonder which world is more real, until danger appears.
History is an imperfect science—the truth often weaves within nuance and mystery. For those playing the role of historian, the trick is knowing what you’re looking for.
Our man in Boston sits down for the sixth time with Russell Banks to discuss his latest novel, the movie business, Mitt Romney, the emigration of investigative journalists, and why it's wise to wait until your 70's before writing about obsessive love.
It is time to announce the contestants, judges, and brackets for the original, one-and-only, full-combat, oddly-predictive-of-the-Pulitzer-Prize, eighth annual TMN Tournament of Books, coming March 2012, presented by Field Notes.
When you’re 16 and searching, Jack Kerouac’s urge to hit the road can seem inspired, or at least inspiring. Later, you wonder if his literature was actually early-onset LiveJournal. Later still, On the Road deserves one more look.
Our Man in Boston sits down for this third conversation with author, critic, and book-world majordomo Sven Birkerts to talk about the current reviewing situation, the best books of 2000, and Amy Winehouse.
When you’ve long been identified as a “literary type,” how can it be that receiving books as get-well gifts leaves you feeling empty, angry, and determined to chug YouTube straight?
A chat between our man in Boston and the writer Nicole Krauss about her latest book, in which her latest book is barely discussed.
Every artist deals with critics differently—Richard Ford spitting on Colson Whitehead, for example. But the rule is to avoid direct contact. Not for John Warner, debut novelist, who decided to seek out the man behind his worst review.