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[Book reviews]

The best of the best
Literary anthologies — if you pick the right ones — offer intriguing and varied work by veteran and new writers alike

BY RICCO VILLANUEVA SIASOCO

THE PERENNIAL FRUITCAKE of publishing is the literary anthology. There’s a "Best of (fill in the blank)" churned out for seemingly every minute area of interest: best short stories, best travel, sports, or movie writing, most promising new voices, and this year — for Iron Chefs stalking kitchens across the country — The Best American Recipes 2001 (Houghton Mifflin). According to the late poet and essayist William Matthews, the term "anthology" comes from "a Greek word that means bouquet." In 2001, the number of these literary "bouquets" — Publisher’s Weekly alone published more than 200 articles and reviews about them — would likely fill a small florist’s shop.

So what’s the best of the collected bests of the year? In sifting through anthologies, we looked for three things: 1) diversity of voices, including both established and emerging writers; 2) publication in 2001; and, perhaps most important, 3) an original and intriguing concept (in the case of ongoing series, original and intriguing content). Our choices for the "Best of the Best" include original fiction and poetry inspired by collage artist Joseph Cornell; science writing about bird sanctuaries in Israel; and a vibrant anthology of writers who happen to be both gay and Asian-Pacific-American (how’s that for a targeted marketing group?).

Before you find yourself stranded in a train station in Topeka or boarding that tedious, four-hour flight home for the holidays, pick up one of these witty, well written anthologies. It just might provide a necessary break from screaming relatives and the sight of all those glistening fruitcakes.

A Convergence of Birds: Original Fiction and Poetry Inspired by Joseph Cornell. Jonathan Safron Foer, Editor (Distributed Art Publishers, $27.50).

Arguably the most literary and deeply felt of the year’s anthologies, A Convergence of Birds celebrates eccentric artist Joseph Cornell with original writing inspired by Cornell’s intricate, whimsical "bird boxes." Beautiful art-book-quality reproductions of the boxes provide frontispieces for the 22 poems and prose pieces that follow. Editor Jonathan Safron Foer was obsessed with Cornell during college and boldly wrote appeals to his favorite authors asking them to contribute to an as-yet-ill-defined project. Many responded. According to Foer, "[t]he boxes called the writers in from great distances; they demanded the attention of those who had no attention to spare. ‘I’m going to be in Tunisia for the next few months,’ one author responded, ‘but I’d like to give this my best shot.’ "

What’s great about A Convergence of Birds is its gathering of lesser known (read: non–Oprah’s Book Club) but eminent wordsmiths — "writers’ writers" like Joanna Scott, Bradford Morrow, and Lydia Davis. Davis’s piece, "The Impetus Was Delight," echoes the compartments and zany mechanics of Cornell’s art with its heady, one-sentence, 10-page, biblical-in-tone compilation of the odds and ends, vases and glass objects, Tiffany lamps, candles, and incense-scented oils accumulated in one family’s home. Like the other authors in A Convergence of Birds, Davis is at once inspired and overwhelmed by Cornell’s haunting art objects.

War of the Words: 20 Years of Writing on Contemporary Literature. Joy Press, Editor (Three Rivers Press, $14).

According to Joy Press, editor of the Village Voice Literary Supplement, "[War of the Words] is not a collection of the top-40 pieces of writing that ever appeared in the VLS (an impossible thing to judge, and anyway, VLS was never about simplistic decrees of superiority). Instead, it is one editor’s attempt to convey the magazine’s multiple facets and to tell its story." Hmm ... sounds like another book czarina with the power to shape culture with her individual Taste-O-Meter.

The good news is that War of the Words succeeds precisely because of its similarities to Oprah and her ubiquitous book club (to be fair, like Jonathan Franzen, I acknowledge that Oprah has picked some great books). But War of the Words is a sort of Oprah’s-Book-Club-on-crack for literary aficionados and downtown types who already read (as opposed to those who depend solely on someone else’s direction). It provides a roadmap to interpreting the Old Guard — like Dostoyevsky and Zora Neale Hurston — and locating today’s headliners, such as Nicholson Baker, Lorrie Moore, and Jonathan Lethem. Promising writers identify other promising writers: Gary Indiana fervently describes his anticipation and appreciation of Thomas Bernhard; C. Carr and Stacey D’Erasmo alternately flesh out and dissect literary bad girls Kathy Acker and Mary Gaitskill. Read War of the Words for its sharp-tongued commentary; then use it as a guide to reading authors you may have heard of, but in whose canons you never knew where to begin.

The Best American Science and Nature Writing 2001. Edward O. Wilson, Editor; Burkhard Bilger, Series Editor (Houghton Mifflin, $13).

What’s the big deal about science writing? In his introduction, Pulitzer Prize–winning editor Edward Wilson explains, "Science writers are in the difficult position of locating themselves somewhere between the two stylistic poles of literature and science. They risk appearing both as journalists to the literati and as amateurs to the scientists." Fortunately, the 22 science writers in this comprehensive anthology — which includes contributors to the New Yorker, Audubon, and Discover — excel at the uphill task of addressing these diverse audiences of professional "literati," fact-oriented scientists, and, lest we forget, the reading public at large.

These intriguing, highly informative essays range from the ever-inspiring words of Edward Hoagland — this time around, on the plight of harpy eagles (yes — big, bold, seven-foot-wingspan harpy eagles) and Gregg Easterbrook’s thorough discussion of "Abortion and Brain Waves" (in which new fetal research favors "keeping abortion legal in the first two trimesters of pregnancy and prohibiting it in the third") to David Quammen’s "Megatransect," the story of a field biologist’s 1000-mile walkabout across Africa. My favorite essay, "To Save a Watering Hole," is an eloquent narrative by Mark Cherrington about a former Israeli-army elite’s campaign to preserve a sanctuary for three million birds from commercial development. I recommend this fine anthology for artistic scientists and scientifically inclined poets alike.

After Confession: Poetry as Autobiography. Kate Sontag and David Graham, Editors (Graywolf Press, $17.05).

In his essay titled "Personal and Impersonal," the late William Matthews asks, "Can the speaker of the poem be identified with the poet? Does the poem describe a biographically actual, as opposed to imagined, experience?" With down-to-earth clarity, Matthews articulates the question driving the 29 essays collected in After Confession: where do poets intersect with their revelatory content?

Noting the cultural importance of the memoir, editors Sontag and Graham explore the vast range of perspectives on autobiographical poetry. "No matter what poetic flag one pledges allegiance to, at the heart of such pluralism, we believe, lie the issues of self and other, private and communal identity, confession and reticence, sincerity and artifice with which this book concerns itself." To this end, leading poets such as Louise Glück, Adrienne Rich, Frank Bidart, current US poet laureate Billy Collins, and Stephen Dunn muse on aspects of confessional poetry ranging from "taboos" in the poetry of Linda McCarriston and Carolyn Forché (Glück) to a poet’s fidelity to family or friends (Dunn). Do these treatises for the most part endorse confessional poetry, or wax on about its overabundance? Matthews, for one, compares the controversy to "the equivalent of asking not if an object is useful or beautiful but how much it costs."

The Best American Short Stories 2001. Barbara Kingsolver, Editor (Houghton Mifflin, $13).

A friend of mine recently purchased the DVD version of The Godfather. We’d seen the movie a dozen times, but this time around we were transfixed by Francis Ford Coppola’s running commentary on such subjects as the infighting between Coppola and the studio, Marlon Brando’s improvisation, and Coppola’s process of piecing the screenplay together. And as with that DVD bonus track, one of the joys of The Best American Short Stories series involves reading the writers’ stories of where their ideas originated.

In this year’s edition, we get Rick Moody explaining that his lyric — indeed, mythic — short story "Boys" was inspired by a tale from Max Steele, who taught with Moody in Vermont. We get Peter Orner’s revelation that his intense, dialogue-driven story about a grandfather and his grandson was based, in part, upon his own family — though his real grandfather captained a less-than-glamorous supply boat, not a naval destroyer. Of course, the usual luminaries are reprinted here (including Alice Munro, John Updike, and a posthumously published story by Harlem Renaissance writer Dorothy West), but the collection also includes well chosen stories by writers with local connections, such as Ha Jin, Peter Ho Davies, and Boston College author Elizabeth Graver. There’s always a spate of "best" short-story collections published each year, but besides the Pushcart Prize anthology, I can’t think of a series as consistently well edited or stylistically diverse as The Best American Short Stories.

Verbatim. Erin McKean, Editor (Harvest Books, $14).

The overlong subtitle of Verbatim (perhaps fittingly) reads: "From the bawdy to the sublime, the best writing on language for word lovers, grammar mavens, and armchair linguists." But the actual pieces collected in this bible for bibliophiles have a clever, utilitarian appeal for us Regular Joes as well.

Indicative of Verbatim’s smart-but-sassy take on language is Sidney I. Landau’s "Sexual Intercourse in American College Dictionaries," a treatise on what, at one time or another, we’ve all been guilty of: looking up dirty words in the dictionary. Landau’s discussion of the subtleties between circular definitions of "sexual intercourse," "coitus," and "fuck" rivals the intricate logic of a Borges story. Other witty pieces in this language-lover’s libretto include "From Za-za to San-san: The Climate of Japanese Onomatopoeia," "Slayer Slang" (a review of teen slang in Buffy the Vampire Slayer), and "Defile Your Records!", a funny, solipsistic look at the games played in the editorial offices of dictionaries and newsrooms. Verbatim is a witty, fast-paced anthology for anyone who loves words and the way they’re used and abused.

Surrealist Painters and Poets: An Anthology. Mary Ann Caws, Editor (MIT Press, $49.95).

In this companion to Robert Motherwell’s landmark 1951 anthology Dada Painters and Poets: An Anthology, academic and translator of French modernism Mary Ann Caws challenges readers with an all-out collection of surrealist artists that extends beyond Art History 101 favorites Salvador Dali, Joan Miró, and André Breton. Most of the poets and painters here you won’t recognize; as Caws says, "I have not wanted to put, at the heart of this collection, any strictures or separations. I have wanted to connect, to gather, to celebrate."

The obscure treasures in this anthology prove her wishes true. From the stark black-and-white photographs of Méret Oppenheim’s skeletons and delicately painted faces to the erratic, graphic-design-like poetry of Paul Nougé, the images and texts in this glossy anthology are often startling and almost always beautiful. I wanted to read more about the various artists’ biographies, as well as some contextual information regarding the works included, but Caws’s minimal, careful design well serves her emphasis on the surreal in the most obscure artist’s work.

The Best American Essays 2001. Kathleen Norris, Editor (Houghton Mifflin, $13).

Maybe it’s because I’ve been teaching English composition to fresh-faced 18-year-olds for a few months now, but the potent, well written essays in The Best American Essays 2001 astounded me. This year’s classy collection — another in the seemingly endless parade that is the "Best American" series — features a diverse group of writers (including Stephen King, Yusef Komunyakaa, Mary Oliver, and William T. Vollman) better known for their horror, sci-fi, or poetry collections.

Particularly engaging is Boston College professor Carlo Rotella’s striking essay "Cut Time," which contrasts the teaching of literature at what could be considered a higher-ed "school of hard knocks" in Pennsylvania with the physical education of one of his students as he joins the Larry Holmes Training Center — to train as a boxer in a "hard knocks school." Rotella’s exquisite description of a boxing match, bloody and vivid as a scene from Raging Bull, resonates and captures the agony of the pugilist’s work.

Edited by best-selling author Kathleen Norris, this varied collection gathers together a meditation on Robert Louis Stevenson, a poignant reflection about the owner of a small-town dump, and William T. Vollman’s love letter to his baby daughter. More expansive and wide-ranging in subject than many of the other anthologies mentioned, The Best American Essays succeeds with its inclusiveness and eloquence: as the saying goes, these are the master craftsmen at work.

The Paris Review: The New Writers Issue. George Plimpton, Editor (The Paris Review, $12).

It’s not technically an anthology, but the esteemed literary journal the Paris Review put together a snazzy, jaw-dropping collection of new work for its 158th issue, published in the spring/summer of 2001 (it does meet our criteria for anthology-judging). Among the various "Writers To Watch" are poet Jeremy Glazier (whose "To Harcamone, As Genet" is reminiscent of an obtuse, Illuminations-like Rimbaud), and fiction writers Maile Meloy, Doug Trevor, and Matthew Vollmer. Avoid the tight-but-bland workshop stories touted in the Best New American Voices series and its ilk; these Paris Review writers are the real thing. The Paris Review has a reputation for its incisive interviews with major writers on their craft, and in this issue there’s a glimpse at two enormously popular and powerful young writers — Rick Moody and Lorrie Moore. Reprints of marked-up manuscripts by the authors are like prizes in the bottom of a Cracker Jack box.

Other anthologies of note:

Growing Up Poor: A Literary Anthology. Robert Coles and Randy Testa, Editors (The New Press, $23.05).

Dispatches from the Tenth Circle: The Best of the Onion. Robert Siegel, Editor (Three Rivers Press, $16).

Loss within Loss: Artists in the Age of AIDS. Edmund White, Editor (The University of Wisconsin Press, $20.05).

Ricco Villanueva Siasoco can be reached at Rsiasoco@aol.com.

Issue Date: November 29 - December 7, 2001

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