{"id":9247,"date":"2017-04-16T13:26:58","date_gmt":"2017-04-16T17:26:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.lettersandsodas.com\/books\/?p=9247"},"modified":"2017-04-16T13:26:58","modified_gmt":"2017-04-16T17:26:58","slug":"calamities-by-renee-gladmanwave-books-2016","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lettersandsodas.com\/books\/calamities-by-renee-gladmanwave-books-2016\/","title":{"rendered":"Calamities by Renee GladmanWave Books, 2016"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>The essays in <i>Calamities<\/i> all start, until the final fourteen pieces, with the phrase &#8220;I began the day,&#8221; and I like how that phrase (depending on what follows it) is sometimes grounding\/grounded, sometimes disorienting, which is maybe also how I felt about the book as a whole. These pieces sometimes feel like more or less straightforward narrations, sometimes like dreams, sometimes like life but abstracted or at an angle, poetic. There is a lot about reading and writing and teaching in this book, and also a lot about being a person with a body\/in the space of the world, and also a lot of smarts and humor. There are pieces I love in their entirety (like one about Gladman going on vacation with her mom and two sisters, or one about Gladman&#8217;s experience of 1990s lesbian community, or one about watching Antonioni&#8217;s <i>Red Desert<\/i> with a class she&#8217;s teaching) and pieces I found kind of obscure, and pieces where certain lines or phrases were the highlights for me, like &#8220;as if someone had written a story about our day, where we stayed on this side of the snow that was falling, and the inside was our city&#8221; (87).<\/p>\n<p>I love this, from the start of one of the pieces:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>I began the day wanting these essays to do more than they were currently doing and even had a book alongside that I thought would help me, but it turned out I wanted more from this book as well. It was hard to be a book about engineering in architecture when an essayist wanted you to be a book about structures in fiction. But why were you called <i>Atlas of Novel Tectonics<\/i>, if I was not supposed to think of you this way? (73)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>There is a whole lot in this book about narrative and language and the idea of the line and the mark and mark-making, about writing and drawing. Near the end, there&#8217;s a great passage, too long to quote in full, that includes the image of language as being &#8220;like a live wire set loose, a hot wire, burning, leaving trace&#8221; (103). I love that image, and the idea of &#8220;leaving trace&#8221; feels central to what this book is doing: tracing patterns of living, of being, of thought and intention, traces of the shapes of days. <\/p>\n<p>Elsewhere: I really like <a href=\"https:\/\/tarpaulinsky.com\/2016\/11\/renee-gladman-calamities-review\/\">Aisha Sabatini Sloan&#8217;s review of Calamities<\/a> in Tarpaulin Sky and also <a href=\"http:\/\/brooklynrail.org\/2017\/04\/criticspage\/Renee-Gladman-Calamities\">Juliana Spahr&#8217;s review of it<\/a> in the Brooklyn Rail. You can read <a href=\"https:\/\/granta.com\/calamities\/\">two short pieces from this book<\/a> on the Granta website.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The essays in Calamities all start, until the final fourteen pieces, with the phrase &#8220;I began the day,&#8221; and I like how that phrase (depending on what follows it) is sometimes grounding\/grounded, sometimes disorienting, which is maybe also how I felt about the book as a whole. These pieces sometimes feel like more or less [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9247","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-nonfiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lettersandsodas.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9247","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lettersandsodas.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lettersandsodas.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lettersandsodas.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lettersandsodas.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9247"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lettersandsodas.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9247\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lettersandsodas.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9247"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lettersandsodas.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=9247"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lettersandsodas.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=9247"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}