If you’ve ever enmeshed yourself in the history of uncanny fiction, you’re probably familiar with the name Weird Tales. This magazine has a special place in the annals of fantasy and horror fiction; now, a new graphic novel features some classic stories from the original magazine adapted into words and pictures.
To read a Nick Mamatas novel is to encounter literary references and pulp storytelling smashed headlong into one another, then recombined in eminently compelling ways. His latest book is the novel Kalivas! Or, Another Tempest, which transposes elements of a certain Shakespeare play to a post-human California. I asked Mamatas some questions about the novel’s genesis, what drew him to The Tempest, and some of his other unlikely literary cross-pollinations.
In our morning reading: reviews of albums by Shabaka and Bill Frisell, an interview with Sarah Sherman, and more.
In our afternoon reading: thoughts on Francis Spufford’s new book, writing from Tal Lavin, and more.
The guiding principle of Six Ridiculous Questions is that life is filled with ridiculousness. And questions. That only by giving in to these truths may we hope to slip the surly bonds of reality and attain the higher consciousness we all crave. (Eh, not really, but it sounded good there for a minute.) It’s just. Who knows? The ridiculousness and question bits, I guess. Why six? Assonance, baby, assonance.
1. Say you’re a zebra. Well, OK, say you’re an anthropomorphized zebra with the power of speech living in a world populated primarily by anthropomorphized zebras. Not all anthropomorphized zebras are created equal; nor, it seems, are they all the herd-focused equines we might imagine. Take you for example.
In our morning reading: thoughts on books by Sara Levine and Helen Garner, an unexpected cult film is born, and more.
Welcome to Greenville
by Lisa Marie Zapata
I had the choice between a booty call or a literary salon. Carnal desire being a much more urgent calling than lively debate with university intelligesia, I walked to the NJ Transit light rail station, crossed the tracks, and took the lift up to a small neighborhood in the bordering town that sat on a hill—the Heights. I walked three additional blocks, unlocked the front door and removed my shoes before entering the apartment.
In our weekend reading: an interview with Melissa Faliveno, fiction by David Leo Rice, and more.