/ Journal / Literature

J.D. Salinger (1919–2010)

J.D. Salinger, perhaps the most reclusive and certainly one of the most influential authors of our time, passed away yesterday at the age of 91. His books Nine Stories, Franny and Zooey, Raise High the Roofbeam Carpenter / Seymour: An Introduction and of course The Catcher and the Rye have all become dear to me.

It’s a catastrophic loss for any lover of literature, but I’m optimistic that writings from his years of seclusion will surface during my lifetime. If not, well, he’s shared plenty. Thank you, J.D.

Read the NYTimes obit here.

Triple Canopy: Original Ideas in Magic

Triple Canopy describes itself as working collectively “with writers, artists, researchers and other collaborators on projects that deal critically with culture and politics, and the ways people engage them, both online and in the world at large.”

It was only recently that I discovered the online magazine, but was pleased with the current issue entitled Original Ideas in Magic, which features poetry and photographs by Tim Davis along with some wonderful photocollages by Hannah Whitaker.

See it here.

The Photographs Not Taken


illustration by Rob Pepper

The Photographs Not Taken is a collection of short essays by photographers about “the times they didn’t use their camera.” A little while back I linked to Michael David Murphy‘s online project Unphotographable, which takes quite the same approach – textual accounts of “pictures missed.”

The essays included in The Photographs Not Taken were collected by Will Steacy, a great photographer in his own right.

Many excellent photographers/friends have contributed to the project so far and I’m happy to be amongst the names: Alec Soth, Amy Elkins, Amy Stein, Andrew Moore, Benjamin Donaldson, Brian Ulrich, Chris Jordan, Christian Patterson, Dave Jordano, Debbie Fleming Caffery, Eirik Johnson, Elinor Carucci, Grant Willing, John Movius, Laura McPhee, Lewis Watts, Lisa Kereszi, Matt Salacuse, Michael Harlan Turkell, Misty Keasler, Nina Berman, Peter Riesett, Rachael Dunville, Rian Dundon, Shane Lavalette, Simon Roberts, Tim Davis, Timothy Archibald and Todd Deutsch.

I think my favorite would have to be “The Ladies’ Tee” by Tim Davis but anyone who knows me knows that I’m as much an admirer of his way with images as I am of his way with words.

Read all of the stories here.

Tim Davis “On Photography”


Soccer ball/Decal (from “Lots”)
© Tim Davis

Allow Tim Davis to uh, well, explain a little about this perpetually enigmatic medium. Via the writing section on Tim’s website:

Pow! About!

What is it to be able to make a complete image instantaneously? It is Art After A.D.D. It is also the perfect Modern, mechanistic pathology: the response to our world–a veritable theme park of Flux–with answers that are complete, edge to edge, and insanely sure of themselves. The camera doesn’t care what it looks at. It knows no history. Presidents are pixels; tragedies flatten. The flip side: EVERYTHING CAN MATTER.

Story #2

In Ionesco’s children’s book, Story #2, “Papa teaches Josette the real meaning of words.” He tells her that the bets on all names of things are off. She makes up the names. Ever since that book was dropped in my papoose, I’ve favored renaming everything. It’s a way to resist authority. Visually, it’s distrusting design. Less grandly, it’s loving looking at things you’re not supposed to. Architecture, for example, is a form for controlling human behavior. It’s ideological. Try just noticing in every room you enter how some cognitive force has anticipated every move you make. Then notice how your presence in that room alters the grand design in infinite ways no architect could anticipate. You scratch surfaces. You add images. You misuse. That is how I feel about photography. It is the mapping of the way humans rename every syntax the designers can toss at us.

America (the booty-full)

Back to that Theme Park of Flux. It’s called America. This is the most historyless place in history. We revise the economy constantly. We revere revision. Nothing is sacred. Look at Carleton Watkins and Timothy O’Sullivan [heroes to this 'unhere]. Not a single man-made structure in their photographs survives. What’d Dorothy Parker call life: “a medley of extemporanea?” America is a symphony of One-Offs. We’re always Supersizing and Downsizing or something. That’s why photographing it matters.

Dave Eggers to Geoff Dyer and Eggleston, Somehow

One thing us bloggers like to avoid is repetition, writing a new post that includes the same information already mentioned elsewhere. It’s taboo.

But, this time I just couldn’t help myself.

While reading Michael David Murphy’s 2point8, I came across this post in which Michael shared a short short story (from Short Short Stories) by Dave Eggers in relation to his previous posts about good writing on photography:

Woman Waiting to Take a Photograph
by Dave Eggers

The woman is a young woman. She wants to make a living as a photographer, but at the moment she is temping at a company that publishes books about wetlands preservation. On her days off she takes pictures, and today she is sitting in her car, across the street from a small grocery store called The Go-Getters Market. The store is located in a very poor neighbourhood: the windows are barred and at night a roll-down steel door covers the storefront. The woman thus finds the name Go-Getters an interesting one, because it is clear that the customers of the market are anything but. They are drunkards and prostitutes and transients, and the young photographer thinks that if she can get the right picture of some of these people entering the store, she will make a picture that would be considered trenchant, or even poignant – either way the product of a sharp and observant eye. So she sits in her Toyota Camry, which her parents gave her because it was four years old and they wanted something new, and she waits for the right poor person to enter or leave the store. She has her window closed, but will open it when the right person appears, and then shoot that person under the sign that says Go-Getters. This, for the viewer of her photograph when it is displayed – first in a gallery, then in the hallway of a collector, and later in a museum when she has her retrospective – will prove that she, the photographer, has a good eye for the inequities and injustices of life, for hypocrisy and the exploitation of the underclass.

I, too, am often in search of these “good” texts on photography. Michael mentioned that he would use Eggers’ story as a first handout to his class, be it a writing or photography course. How do I enroll?

A relatively recent book that hasn’t made it’s way on to my own blog is The Ongoing Moment by Geoff Dyer.


“The Ongoing Moment,” 2005
© Geoff Dyer

Mr. Dyer writes about photography, for the most part American photography, as practiced by a handful of masters and contemporaries. It is not a book for beginners; it assumes not only some knowledge of the history of American photography — the famous photographers and what sort of pictures they have taken — but also access to the many photographs that Dyer talks about but does not reproduce. Nonetheless, it’s worth picking up for future reference if you aren’t already photo-literate.

The New Yorker says about the book:

A self-styled “scholarly gatecrasher,” Dyer has written with equal fervor about D. H. Lawrence, military history, and jazz. Here he turns to photography, with the caveat “I make no claim to being an expert in this or any other field.” Indeed, he confesses, “I don’t even own a camera.” The resulting book is a curious encyclopedia, purposefully eclectic and incomplete. The images are taken mostly from the canon of American twentieth-century photography, but Dyer arranges them in unexpected clusters—blind accordionists here, vacant benches there. He imagines William Eggleston’s pictures to be the work of a Martian, stranded in Middle America, who keeps looking for his lost ticket home, “with a haphazard thoroughness that confounds established methods of investigation.” The Martian is an apt stand-in for Dyer, a flâneur in the world of photography, who bypasses the famous sights in favor of back alleys and side streets.

I was happy to find KCRW’s Bookworm with Geoff Dyer. This was rather pleasant to listen to after reading the book. As KCRW points out, “There are no chapters. Instead, one brief section leads to another, making it almost impossible to put the book down.” And, they are very right.

I’ll end with this: an Eggleston image (as Dyer might describe as being “taken by a Martian who lost the ticket for his flight home and ended up working at a gun shop in a small town near Memphis”).


© William Eggleston