W. Kandinsky: "There are no 'musts' in art." T.S. Eliot: "There is no freedom in art." Dostoievski character, after the ancient Middle East epigram: "Everything is permitted." (R-rated weblog. Since one has been advised there is no Literature anymore, or even literature, only writing, one proceeds on the premise that this weblog qualifies as not-meaningless, since it is, or appears to be, a form of "writing." Image: Banksy.)
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Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Michael Hemmingson
Stunned to discover a week or three ago that Hemmingson died in Zona Norte (Tijuana) in the recent past. A prolific writer of "racy" novels, journalist, screenwriter, ethnologist, playwright, he commented on this blog once when I happened to write a few words about Gordon Lish a few years ago, who would be the perfect husband for novelist Gish Jen (if I'm spelling that correctly), what cooler name than Gish Lish?, Hemmingson, having activated a Google Alert for Gordon in connection with a book of literary criticism he (Hemmingson) was writing on him, letting me know Gordon shies away from the Interweb and does not have a blog . . . just brings you to a halt when someone you know, no matter how slightly, dies. R.I.P. Michael.
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