Full moon tonight? More goofiness touching on WB
Wendell Berry in Milwaukee, October 10

Blog Watch: Place and placelessness

On Foul Odors and the Demands of Place: A Literary Jaunt | Front Porch Republic.
That both Ford and Berry often rely on recursive looping narratives, or that both feel the fault lines of loss trembling beneath them, does nothing to diminish the unassailable fact that, in the end, about all they have in common is the English language. To get right down to brass tacks: Berry is a placed writer at the heart of whose novels is place in all its particularity—this stand of old-growth oak, that creek bed, this barber shop. “You’ve got to know where you are,” he says again and again. “You’ve got to consult the genius of the place.” Ford, by contrast, is in many ways a placeless writer at the heart of whose novels is placelessness in all its generality—the Holiday Inn, the interstate, the office. “Place,” says the peripatetic Frank Bascomb in Independence Day, “means nothing.” READ MORE ...

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