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Wyatt Mason’s weekend reads are part of the rhythm of my life, but this week’s offering is a particular delight. Start with his post from Friday, Frederick Seidel, “A Poet of Great Innocence” and continue to his superlative profile of Seidel in the pages of tomorrow’s New York Times Magazine, in which you’ll find this amazing passage:
his verses seem to possess a quality “so upsetting that some people… essentially they want to obliterate you.” I asked him if he had a sense of what that quality was. “I think it’s an unembarrassed tone… a calmly unembarrassed tone while saying something ‘unacceptable.’ The word unacceptable of course has quotes around it. They are unapologetic, the poems are— I am— the tone is.”
It’s interesting to contemplate Seidel paired with his rough contemporary Robert Pirsig–two significant writers of the last century who place value in and take inspiration from motorcycles. Seidel favors a Ducati 916, Pirsig a BMW R60, but they share something bordering on a death wish. And Seidel’s work mingles dark flashes of eccentricity with its cultural conservatism. Wyatt’s interview-essay serves a laudable purpose, and that, of course, is to provoke us to read more of the magnificent but at times oddly dark writings of “the poet laureate of high louche.”
More from Scott Horton:
Conversation — August 5, 2016, 12:08 pm
Sidney Blumenthal on the origins of the Republican Party, the fallout from Clinton’s emails, and his new biography of Abraham Lincoln
Conversation — March 30, 2016, 3:44 pm
Joseph Hickman discusses his new book, The Burn Pits, which tells the story of thousands of U.S. soldiers who, after returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, have developed rare cancers and respiratory diseases.
Years ago, I lived in Montana, a land of purple sunsets, clear streams, and snowflakes the size of silver dollars drifting through the cold air. There were no speed limits and you could legally drive drunk. My small apartment in Missoula had little privacy. In order to write, I rented an off-season fishing cabin on Rock Creek, a one-room place with a bed and a bureau. I lacked the budget for a desk. My idea was to remove a sliding door from a closet in my apartment and place it over a couple of hastily cobbled-together sawhorses.
Average number of bacteria living in a pound of U.S. mud:
Canadian doctors saved a baby from drowning in his own drool by using Botox on his salivary glands.
A black bear named Pedals, famous for walking upright on his hind legs through Rockaway Township, New Jersey, was reported killed by a hunter, and a hiker in California was attacked after he interrupted two bears mating. It was a “pretty good bear attack,” said the local police chief.
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"She never thanked me, never looked at me—melted away into the miserable night, in the strangest manner I ever saw. I have seen many strange things, but not one that has left a deeper impression on my memory than the dull impassive way in which that worn-out heap of misery took that piece of money, and was lost."