Nshima & Curry

Will Kanye read his own book?

Kanye West does not believe in reading books. But he does believe in sharing his wisdom, so he has published a book called “Thank You And You’re Welcome.”

His book is 52 pages — some blank, others with just a few words — and offers his optimistic philosophy on life. One two-page section reads, “Life is 5% what happens and 95% how you react!” Another page reads “I hate the word hate!” [Link]

Wow, Kanye, did you come up with those yourself?

Apparently not. The book has only 52 pages, yet Kanye needed help from J. Sakiya Sandifer, a motivational speaker and "thinker" who apparently does not read books either.

TEC: What books do you like to read?

JSS: Honestly, I don’t read much. Non reader-life inspires me. That’s what I write about. Life how I see it—recording my thoughts on paper. Think think think and think again were past conversations I had that incorporated real life situations. [Link]

So here we have two guys who don't read books, but want us to buy theirs, just in case we're eager to read “Kanye-isms" such as: "Get used to being used.” (Yeah, especially if you buy the book.)

West’s derision of books comes despite the fact that his late mother, Donda West, was a university English professor before she retired to manage his music career. She died in 2007 of complications following cosmetic surgery.

“Sometimes people write novels and they just be so wordy and so self-absorbed,” West said. “I am not a fan of books. I would never want a book’s autograph. [Link]

Me neither, Kanye. It would be kinda scary -- a book autographing itself.

It's a good thing you're not self-absorbed, Kanye. Otherwise, your book might have been 60 pages or something.

Books I'd like to see

Salman Rushdie's novel "Midnight's Children" is considered one of the best books of the 20th century, but here's the novel I'd really like him to publish:

Rushdie: Let democracy reign

NEW YORK, July 11 (MNN) -- Salman Rushdie, who has just won the Best of the Booker prize through online and text voting, says he now believes all literary contests should be determined by public voting. "It has worked well for American Idol," he said. "I don't see why it shouldn't work for the Booker and Pulitzer prizes. We need to accept that we live in an increasingly democratic world, filled with people who know fine literature when they see it."

Rushdie's novel "Midnight's Children" beat five other shortlisted books, all former Booker winners, after garnering 36 percent of the votes cast by 7,801 people. Observers believe that Rushdie had a big advantage over the other authors, partly because he was able to convince all his ex-wives to vote for him.

"If he was able to do that, he deserves to win," said CNN host Larry King, who has been married seven times. "I can't even get my ex-wives to take my calls."

John Shaw, a book reviewer who had thrown his support behind another shortlisted book, JM Coetzee's "Disgrace," called the entire contest a disgrace. "I'm sure there was some vote-rigging going on," Shaw said, accusing Rushdie of getting tips from Zimbabwe President Robert Mugabe. "There's always a risk of that. That's why I wanted Jimmy Carter to oversee the voting."

Book publisher David Putnam, who supported JG Farrell's "The Siege Of Krishnapur," urged Booker prize administrators to reveal how many of Rushdie's votes came from India. "I have nothing against India," he said, "but there are more than a billion people there, many of whom have cell phones and internet access. Rushdie would be guaranteed to win any contest if he just received votes from one percent of all guys named 'Salman'"

He noted that Rushdie's candidacy for the Best of the Booker prize had been promoted on a number of websites created in India, including GoRushdie.com, VoteEarlyVoteOften.com and Vote4MyUncleSalman.com.

Putnam and others believe the voting was particularly unfair to Farrell, who wasn't able to canvass for votes, largely because he happens to be dead. "I couldn't arrange any special appearances or book signings for him," Putnam said. "Unfortunately, very few people participated in our 'Visit a Famous Author's Grave' tour."

Mandeep Singh, professor of literature at University of Punjab, Philadelphia Campus (UPPC), said he hopes no other literary prize is determined through public voting. "It may seem like a good idea," he said, "but do we really want to entrust such decisions to the same people who re-elected George W. Bush?"

Amitava Ghosh, assistant professor of English at Penn State University, agreed with Singh. "Nobody is really too upset about Rushdie winning the Best of the Booker award," he said, "but imagine what everyone will say when John Grisham is awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature."

Jhumpa Lahiri kicks some butt (updated)

Domination is common in sports, such as when Rafael Nadal trounced Roger Federer 6-1 6-3 6-0 in the French Open final or India beat Bermuda by 257 runs in last year's cricket World Cup. But it doesn't happen in literary contests, at least not until Jhumpa Lahiri shows up. Just picture her wearing boxing gloves and knocking out other authors in the first round. That's essentially what she did to win the Frank O' Connor Short Story Award for her collection of short stories “Unaccustomed Earth." The judges didn't even bother composing a shortlist for the award.

The judges - Granta fiction editor Rosalind Porter, Cork City chief librarian Liam Ronayne and Irish Times Literary correspondent Eileen Battersby - were immediately and unanimously convinced the book should win.

"With a unanimous winner at this early stage we decided it would be a sham to compose a shortlist and put five other writers through unnecessary stress and suspense," explained the award's director, Pat Cotter. "Not only were the jury unanimous in their choice of Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth as the winner, they were unanimous in their belief that so outstanding was Lahiri's achievement in this book that no other title was a serious contender." [Link]

I wonder how the other authors feel. Lahiri literally kicked their butts. I mean, literarily.

UPDATE: My wife says they were cheated out of a potential shortlisting. And I tend to agree. Imagine if the NFL had canceled the playoffs last year and awarded the Super Bowl to the New England Patriots, saying they were far and away the best team in America, having finished the regular season 16-0. If an underdog like the New York Giants can pull off an epic upset in the Super Bowl, is it so far-fetched to believe that Tim Jones, author of Transported, might shock Lahiri in the playoffs with a last-second Hail Mary pass?

V.S. Naipaul deserves another award

I just read a couple of excerpts from The World Is What It Is, Patrick French's biography of Nobel Prize-winning writer Sir V.S. Naipaul. The first excerpt concerns Naipaul's relationship with three women: his late wife, Pat; his mistress of 23 years, Margaret Gooding; and his current wife, Nadira, who virtually became his fiancée before Pat's death.

After the cremation, Vidia returned to Dairy Cottage and took photographs of Pat's meagre possessions: her bed, her spectacles, her shoes, her medicines, and the snow outside. Angela the housekeeper went to Sainsbury's to buy food: cheese, Cox's apples, black and green olives. Vidia noted on the receipt: "The olives were for Nadira, arriving on the 9th Feb." A local taxi drove Vidia up to Heathrow to collect Nadira, while Angela, shocked to the core, prepared the food for his bride. And so it was that on the day after he had cremated his wife, V.S. Naipaul invited a new woman into her house—or his house—and the funeral green olives did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. [Link]

His actions may seem cold and callous, but we have to remember, this is Sir V.S. Naipaul we're talking about, the greatest living writer, a man whose presence in the world is a blessing to us, and the least we can do to show our gratitude is ensure that he isn't for a single day deprived of sex.

The second excerpt concerns Naipaul's visits to India, his ancestral land.

Travelling through the country, Vidia milked his hosts for information, and was happy to dismiss many of them afterwards as fools and idlers. In his journal, he noted: "One felt the irrelevance of this middle-class element, so parasitic...offering nothing of value really, speaking only to their own group. (Prem Shankar) Jha assaulted me. He allowed no conversation to develop. No idea was explored. He was the Indian journalist making simple patterns of simple facts. Such shoddy ideas adrift in this society." Prem Shankar Jha remembered, "He was always looking for offence, looking for the hidden barb. He had already decided what he wanted to say, and was looking for evidence." [Link]

We have to remember, this is Sir V.S. Naipaul we're talking about, the greatest living writer, a man of such eminence, we should be bottling his pee for future generations.

We should be in awe of his wisdom. We should marvel at whatever he writes, whatever he says, whatever he spews.

We should also give him another award. The Nobel Prize just isn't good enough. Too many writers get it, authors who could only dream to write books good enough for him to sneeze on. What we need is a special award, one that will be named after him and distinguish him forever: The Naipaul Prize for the Greatest Living Writer Who's Also An Asshole.

Which country would make you happy?

Does the country you live in affect your happiness? Of course it does, at least to an extent. But there's no easy formula, as blogger Ethan Zuckerman writes in his review of Eric Weiner's book "The Geography of Bliss."

There are some interesting geographic patterns to happiness. Impoverished and wartorn nations are generally not happy places. Scandinavian and Alpine nations are, for the most part. You might conclude that cold, rich nations are the places to be if you’d like to be happy. But making generalizations in this field is difficult. Many of the former Soviet states are cold, and most rank very low in happiness. Money’s not guaranteed to help either. There’s an "East-Asian Happiness Gap", where wealthy East Asian nations are a lot less happy than you’d expect given their wealth. [Link]

I'd rather be poor in a country that gives me freedom than rich in a country that's restrictive. I'd hate to live in a country that controls the media or chops off the hands of thieves. I'd hate to live in a country where women don't have much freedom, not just the freedom to work and move around freely, but also the freedom to wear bikinis.

Weiner gives us intriguing hints at the state of the art of happiness research, writing at some length about “the hedonic treadmill", a concept coined by Philip Brickman and Donald Campbell, who were studying the happiness of lottery winners and accident victims. Unsurprisingly, the lottery winners were quite happy, and the paralyzed accident victims unhappy. But over time, both returned to levels quite close to their happiness before these surprising developments. [Link]

Yeah, we humans quickly adjust to our circumstances. That 52-inch high-definition TV might make you happy for a few days, but you'll soon get used to it and it won't seem so big anymore, especially when your friend Abdul buys an 80-inch model, the bastard.

Most people believe that acquiring a bit more money would make them happy; they tend to find that acquiring wealth is a trap, as they always want a bit more (hence, the treadmill.) There’s an exception - people who are truly impoverished will see their happiness increase with increased income. But this effect maxes out at a surprisingly low level, around $15,000 in annual income. [Link]

Once your basic needs are met, more money isn't going to make you much happier. I know this because one of my friends has satisfied all his basic needs, including a basic cable package and a basic model BMW.

Photo by i.embrace

Divorced again, but he's still got a great career

When two career-minded people get married, is divorce inevitable? Perhaps not, but in the case of author Salman Rushdie and model Padma Lakshmi, I got the feeling that for the marriage to survive, one of them had to put a few of the career goals on the back burner (or better yet, in deep freeze) and it wasn't going to be Mr. Literary Giant. Lakshmi, also an actress, TV host and cookbook author, seems to bear that out in a revealing Vanity Fair article.

With the show, the book, and multiple other projects, “I was, like, becoming less portable,” she said. “We had two homes and Salman would go back and forth between London and New York,” to visit his son Milan, “and it just seemed our schedules got so crazy and he has a very big life, too.

“I think he was genuinely proud of me, but I think while theoretically he wanted me to do well, in practical terms it meant that we would each be having to do different things, and I think that that was hard for him.”

She said that she had missed out on the last day of her photo shoot for Tangy Tart Hot & Sweet in order to catch a lecture Rushdie was giving at Emory University, in Atlanta, where he became the Distinguished Writer in Residence last spring. “I knew he was gonna be really pissed off if I didn’t make it down there,” she said. [Link]

"Join the club, Padma," Rushdie's three other ex-wives are probably saying. "We had to attend his lectures too. Otherwise he would give us a lecture."

"I sat down,” Padma said, “and I wrote him a long love letter by e-mail and said, ‘I’m writing to you as a woman who has loved you and stood next to you for eight years. And I’m asking you to do the unexpected with me, to take my hand and not fight about anything.’ And he called me the next day and we worked it out and part of us working it out was he wanted me gone,” as in out of his house. And she agreed. [Link]

Aren't you glad they "worked it out"? Because if they hadn't "worked it out," they might still be together.

Doris Lessing hates to say it, but ...

Reporter: "Doris Lessing, you just won the Nobel Prize in Literature. What are you going to do next?"

Lessing: "I'm going to do my best impression of V.S. Naipaul, of course. We Nobel winners need to be a little cantankerous."

MADRID, Spain — Nobel laureate Doris Lessing said the Sept. 11 attacks in the United States were "not that terrible" when compared to attacks by the IRA in Britain.

"September 11 was terrible, but if one goes back over the history of the IRA, what happened to the Americans wasn't that terrible," the Nobel Literature Prize winner told the leading Spanish daily El Pais.[Link]

Let me get this straight, Doris: It was terrible, but it wasn't that terrible. On a scale of 1 to 10, you'd give it a 6 for terribleness -- on par with eating liver 'n onions.

"Some Americans will think I'm crazy. Many people died, two prominent buildings fell, but it was neither as terrible nor as extraordinary as they think. They're a very naive people, or they pretend to be," she said in an interview published Sunday. [Link]

Yeah, there's nothing extraordinary about planes being flown into buildings, Doris. Now Britney Spears appearing in public with all her clothes on -- that's extraordinary!

Doris Lessing wins the the Nobel Prize. Big deal!

It must be nice to win the most prestigious literary award in the world and not really care about it.

LONDON - Doris Lessing pulled up in a black cab where a media horde was waiting Thursday in front of her leafy north London home. Reporters opened the door and told her she had won the Nobel Prize for literature, to which she responded: "Oh Christ! ... I couldn't care less."

Lessing later said she thought the cameras were there to film a television program. Vegetables peeked out from blue plastic bags she carried out of the cab.

"This has been going on for 30 years," she said, as reporters helped her with the bags.

"I've won all the prizes in Europe, every bloody one, so I'm delighted to win them all, the whole lot, OK?" Lessing said, making her way through the crowd. "It's a royal flush."

"I'm sure you'd like some uplifting remarks," she added with a smile. [Link]

Yes, Doris, here's what we'd like you to say: "Oh Christ! ... I just can't believe it. Never in my 88 years on this earth did I ever think I'd win the Nobel Prize. There are so many other great writers out there. I'm so excited, I'm going to celebrate by putting some sugar in my tea. Who knows, I may even stay up tonight until 8."

Samit Basu's Ten Commandments

Author Samit Basu wrote a brilliant (and funny) poem in memory of Shakti Bhatt, the late book editor, who died far too young. An excerpt is below, but you should read the whole poem

The Ten Commandments

The ground was cracked and dry and bleak, and dark clouds streaked the angry sky

As Moses crawled his weary wander down the slopes of Mount  Sinai.

His head was bowed, his back was bent, he carried stone tablets of truth

He wished he’d known this day would come; he’d have done push-ups as a youth.

He halted by a rugged rock and laid down the twin slabs of stone.

He looked around and started as he saw that he was not alone.

A vision of delight now stood before him, fashionably clad.

Her eyes were bright and sparkling, her presence made him strangely glad.

‘I’ve heard you have a manuscript,’ she said, ‘so can I take a look?

‘I’ve heard you’re wise and mesmerizing, Mo; It’s time you wrote a book!’

‘This isn’t mine,’ said Moses, ‘It’s the word of God Omniscient.’

‘So you would be his agent, right? You’d get a fair fifteen percent.’

With slender hands she reached out and picked up the stones and Moses stared

She read them calmly. ‘Ten Commandments. Good title. There’s something there.

Ten simple rules to help you lead your life, to guide and show you how,

Great concept. There’s a market, too – self-help’s very big right now.

Read the rest

The excitement of a new author

I've often wondered what it must be like for an author to spot someone reading his or her book. Imagine sitting on a plane next to a person who's perusing your book. Would you reveal that you're the author or just wait until the person sees the photo on the book jacket, glances at you, and says, "Wow, you look a little like this author. But I'm sure you don't write crap like this."

Earlier this year, first-time author Imran Ahmad wrote a comment on Scott Pack's blog about the excitement of seeing his newly published (and previously self-published) memoir Unimagined in a bookstore:

I slip out of the office at lunchtime to go to Borders. A bus is coming, so I run to the bus stop and just make it. I flash my travel card and he doesn’t even blink, as if I’m not really here, as if I’m a figment of my own imagination.

My heart is thumping as Borders approaches. I jump off the bus, run across the road and regain my composure, before I stride casually inside the store. I don’t want to draw attention to myself, get recognised and be accosted by a crowd of hysterical young women. (Actually, I do).

There it is, facing me on the shelf – eight copies, ‘front of store’ as promised. This is the moment I have waited all my life for. Wow! I can hardly believe it. I thought this was going to happen in 2005, with my magnificent self-published book (with its mysterious, enigmatic cover), but somehow I wasn’t able to persuade Borders to stock it, let alone put it ‘front of store’.

Tintin meets the 21st century

As a child, I loved Tintin and his adventures. If I could get my hands on a book, I'd read it dozens of times. What can I say -- it was as entertaining as Scooby Doo.

Even as an adult, when I've lost interest in Scooby, I can still enjoy Tintin. In fact, I took a couple out of the library not long ago and it was almost like old times, except I didn't hear a voice from the kitchen saying, "Melvin, have you finished your homework?" (The question would usually be in Tamil, of course.)

But Tintin, for all its merits, does fall short in one major area: its portrayal of Africans and other blacks. The drawings themselves make me uncomfortable. I'm not surprised that the Commission on Racial Equality in Britain wants to see at least one book, Tintin in the Congo, pulled from stores. A CRE spokeswoman told BBC News that the book contained "words of hideous racial prejudice, where the 'savage natives' look like monkeys and talk like imbeciles". I'm not familiar with this particular book, but there's got to be a scene in which Tintin or some other white person is being cooked in a big pot, while the natives dance around it with joy. I grew up in Zambia, not far from the Congo, and I don't recall any white people being cooked, though a few of my school friends did think the young British teacher looked "yummy."

Bookstore chains Borders and Waterstones have moved Tintin in the Congo to their adult section.

Borders said they are committed to let their "customers make the choice". The store's spokesman added: "Naturally, some of the thousands of books and music selections we carry could be considered controversial or objectionable depending on individual political views, tastes and interests."
A Waterstones spokesman said: "We have reviewed the title's situation and are moving it away from the other Tintin titles into the graphic novel section."
[Link]

I suppose they'd also be eager to carry 100 Reasons to Love Hitler and Chicken Soup for the Racist's Soul. Perhaps they need a new shelf in the gardening section called "Bigo Tree."

This reminds me, of course, of the controversy surrounding Apu of The Simpsons. Many people find him offensive. As for me, I'm usually laughing too hard to be offended.