Because it's a new week and I've been spending my own words on fiction, that's why. Here, then, are some other people's words.
This is intriguing enough that I've added Manituana to my maybe-read list. By all accounts I've now skimmed, and it turns out there have been several, this is a novel worth checking out. But all accounts are not yet in. I'd like to see a Native reviewer's take on it. I'd also like to know why the collective author, four Italians, is going by what appears to be a Chinese name, Wu Ming.
What don't I want to know? What zillionaire Arianna Huffington is reading. Is there any reason I ought to care?
What doesn't the New York Times seem to know? That arresting people for organizing protest demonstrations is something other than "the response of law enforcement." I'm not going to use the F-word, because I don't agree with those who characterize the state of things in this country as fascism, but the ever rightward creep has been taking some mighty big leaps. Toward my neck of the woods. Hey, I live in Queens. I own books, newspapers and electronic equipment. Also a picture of Lenin--and of Trotsky! I go to demonstrations, and I email and text about them. Yikes!
A couple of writer/bloggers, and their commenters, have been carrying on a meaningful conversation about white writers and writers of color and people of color characters. Here, and here, and here.
