Karl Ove Knausgaard's Summer, like the season it marks, is as much about the heat of dissipation and as it is of lawn sprinklers and cherry trees that push back with a stubborn, if not irresistible delight. Summer is less about writing than about attention.
While at times this reviewer of The Little Clan is himself desperate for "the casual entitlement of vertical parity" with worthwhile, enviable acquaintances and adversaries, for someone who might call out my "distinctive aesthetic" or conversations in which the participants bemoan their "desultory attempts" at topics less "pedestrian," the world drawn in The Little Clan […]
Share | There is such a thing as a credible joke — one based in astute observation, irony, paradox. Such humor lies at the opposite end of puns: it’s richly semantic. If credibility matters, do read this collection. You’ll be laughing, but the laughter is razor sharp. Even the titles in this short story collection […]