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COMMENT SECTION
166 pages, Hardcover
Published February 2, 2024
12 people want to read
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January 31, 2024GOES WITHOUT SAYING
Often, now, one sees books featuring introductions written by authors who are much more successful and well-regarded in their own lifetimes than were the authors of the books they are introducing. I'm not sure it goes without saying that the authors of these books are mostly rarely authors who, in their own lifetimes, would have been asked to write introductions for books written by other authors. I guess what I'm saying is that the authors of the introductions to these books have written books that, in the future, are unlikely to be reprinted with introductions written by authors who, in that future, are regarded as important? I mean, that's the implication. One ought to assume that the writers writing introductions to books written by others are paid to write these introductions; they are writers, after all, they earn their living by writing. It goes without saying that the authors of the books (not the introductions), being dead, for the most part, are not paid for these newly introduced editions of their work; sometimes, of course, the estates of the authors of these books are paid, and sometimes the authors are still alive and so are paid, but mostly the situation is that the author of the introduction is paid for their labor, the designers, typesetters, printers, and publishers are paid for theirs, but the author gets nothing, remains dead. Barthes, in his most famous essay, was writing toward what he called "the birth of the reader," a birth, he wrote, that came at the cost of the death of the author. Writing was—and here I'm paraphrasing and will reveal that I've almost certainly misunderstood, in part or in whole, Barthes's argument—the process of bringing together the writing one had, in one's lifetime, read. Not that one's writing—or, more to the point, one's reading—was solely collage or quotation, but that it was also not some transcription of divine inspiration and also that it was not a distillation of one's experiences. The writer-as-conduit was dead. (There are nuances there I'm not going to get into.) Anyway, the writer of the introduction writes about the book they are introducing, and, in the process, and with few exceptions, invents an author-as-conduit for the book that would not otherwise exist. Though the labor of one of these writers-of-introductions can't really be compared to the labor undertaken by the author of the book-being-introduced, no one expects that it would be so compared, and if, by writing this introduction, they bring to life some version of the author, they are at least performing a labor of devotion. Maybe I ought to reread the Barthes? I had thought to end on a biographical note, e.g., that Barthes is, as of this writing, dead, but that anyway is mostly a cheap joke, and it has been revealed to be irrelevant.
Often, now, one sees books featuring introductions written by authors who are much more successful and well-regarded in their own lifetimes than were the authors of the books they are introducing. I'm not sure it goes without saying that the authors of these books are mostly rarely authors who, in their own lifetimes, would have been asked to write introductions for books written by other authors. I guess what I'm saying is that the authors of the introductions to these books have written books that, in the future, are unlikely to be reprinted with introductions written by authors who, in that future, are regarded as important? I mean, that's the implication. One ought to assume that the writers writing introductions to books written by others are paid to write these introductions; they are writers, after all, they earn their living by writing. It goes without saying that the authors of the books (not the introductions), being dead, for the most part, are not paid for these newly introduced editions of their work; sometimes, of course, the estates of the authors of these books are paid, and sometimes the authors are still alive and so are paid, but mostly the situation is that the author of the introduction is paid for their labor, the designers, typesetters, printers, and publishers are paid for theirs, but the author gets nothing, remains dead. Barthes, in his most famous essay, was writing toward what he called "the birth of the reader," a birth, he wrote, that came at the cost of the death of the author. Writing was—and here I'm paraphrasing and will reveal that I've almost certainly misunderstood, in part or in whole, Barthes's argument—the process of bringing together the writing one had, in one's lifetime, read. Not that one's writing—or, more to the point, one's reading—was solely collage or quotation, but that it was also not some transcription of divine inspiration and also that it was not a distillation of one's experiences. The writer-as-conduit was dead. (There are nuances there I'm not going to get into.) Anyway, the writer of the introduction writes about the book they are introducing, and, in the process, and with few exceptions, invents an author-as-conduit for the book that would not otherwise exist. Though the labor of one of these writers-of-introductions can't really be compared to the labor undertaken by the author of the book-being-introduced, no one expects that it would be so compared, and if, by writing this introduction, they bring to life some version of the author, they are at least performing a labor of devotion. Maybe I ought to reread the Barthes? I had thought to end on a biographical note, e.g., that Barthes is, as of this writing, dead, but that anyway is mostly a cheap joke, and it has been revealed to be irrelevant.
April 3, 2024
Comment Section, like the earlier Correction, is a set of 101 constrained pieces written in a format not easily categorized as short stories or essays, which Blackwell has referred to as a readymade. These pieces largely address our experiences of the horrors of contemporary America (gun violence, COVID denial, rising fascism, etc.) as mediated and filtered through social media. Throughout, the focus is on that mediation. Blackwell's narrator (anxious, literary, probably more introspective than is healthy) rarely experiences anything directly (except his wife's mild disapproval, although even that is often imagined rather than experienced). Instead, the pieces mostly consist of the narrator's relation of news events, bits of history or literary tidbits, the narration then doubles (or triples, quadruples...) back on itself, often transforming the events described, sometimes to the point of negation. The pleasure of the book consists in following this narrative voice as it digresses and changes its mind. Comment Section is a welcome addition to the infinite scroll begun in Correction.
December 28, 2024
These essays will assure you that, you are not alone in the confusion and anxiety you feel when encountering the new digital consciousness and the degradation of literacy. Is this crisis uniquely American? I doubt it. Is this a crisis every generation faces when being eclipsed? Maybe-but has education ever been more expensive yet- valued LESS? Will I become the contemptuous old man cursing under his breath as the world passes me by?
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews