The Rooster Prize goes to Emily St. John Mandel
The Tournament of Books ended today. I'm a big fan of the Tournament and have been following it ever since I knew about it. I love to read the verdicts - with explanations to boot - by great judges, and the "match commentary" by its terrific commentators who are great literary tasters ( I'm already a Kevin fan and like John, Laura and Elliot as well). I also like to read the readers'comments. It is the talk of the art, which you don't get to hear often in many places now.
But I must confess you one thing: I've not read a single title that featured in the tournament. I'm not really bothered about it. As I follow the judges, commentators and the great readers every day, I get an idea of what every book is about. And I decide which one to buy and read. Truth to tell, I'm a bit suspicious about the current American fiction. Often it reads more like synthetic than organic. What's the point of reading a novel if it can't offer a feeling of something real?
Some months ago, I had the experience of reading the last year's Rooster-winning novel (you know it). Though well-mapped, it read so artificial, absurd and cinematic. Is it literature?
So, am I going to read Station Eleven? Hell, no. Post-apocalyptic novels don't work for me.
I would rather buy and read A Brief history of Seven killings by Marlon James.
The Tournament of Books ended today. I'm a big fan of the Tournament and have been following it ever since I knew about it. I love to read the verdicts - with explanations to boot - by great judges, and the "match commentary" by its terrific commentators who are great literary tasters ( I'm already a Kevin fan and like John, Laura and Elliot as well). I also like to read the readers'comments. It is the talk of the art, which you don't get to hear often in many places now.
But I must confess you one thing: I've not read a single title that featured in the tournament. I'm not really bothered about it. As I follow the judges, commentators and the great readers every day, I get an idea of what every book is about. And I decide which one to buy and read. Truth to tell, I'm a bit suspicious about the current American fiction. Often it reads more like synthetic than organic. What's the point of reading a novel if it can't offer a feeling of something real?
Some months ago, I had the experience of reading the last year's Rooster-winning novel (you know it). Though well-mapped, it read so artificial, absurd and cinematic. Is it literature?
So, am I going to read Station Eleven? Hell, no. Post-apocalyptic novels don't work for me.
I would rather buy and read A Brief history of Seven killings by Marlon James.
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