By Penguin Press, Jonathan Safran Foer
Jonathan Safran Foer has lengthy had a keenness for the paintings of the twentieth-century American assemblage artist Joseph Cornell. encouraged through Cornell's avian-themed containers, and suspecting that they'd be equally inspiring to others, Foer started to write letters. The responses he acquired from luminaries of yank writing have been not anything wanting wonderful. Twenty writers generously contributed items of prose and poetry which are as eclectic as they're innovative, and the result's a distinct collaborative venture and essentially the most major engagements of literature with paintings for a few years.
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Extra resources for A CONVERGENCE OF BIRDS Original Fiction and Poetry Inspired by the Work of Joseph Cornell
It was about a ten minute drive to the wheelhouse. When I stepped from the car, I immediately glimpsed the kingfisher. It was on the telephone wire, then flew over to the roof of the wheelhouse, then flew back to the wire. “Kingfishers have punk haircuts,” my daughter, Emma, had said. I was aware, in the early light and breeze off the pond, that if your criterion is succinct enough, moments of perfection might truly exist. Shorts, T-shirt, tennis shoes on, a book, a breeze off the pond, smell of old wood, a kingfisher plummeting along its sight line now and then, a world without humans except in a book—happiness was beside the point.
I have two heroes: Mark Catesby and the Japanese writer Ryonosuke Akutagawa, who wrote Hell Screen and Rashamon, among other works. ” I often see Catesby’s entire Natural History oeuvre as being underlit by a kind of melancholy, in that even bird art can be autobiographical in tone. Catesby, painter of birds, fish and flowers, never left a self-portrait. Testimony as to his demeanor is scarce. ” Catesby was also severely nearsighted. Thomas Pynchon’s novel, Mason & Dixon, deals head-on with the haunting levels of loneliness born of long years in the early American wilderness.
She is one of them, now. The orphans of the world. Waiting to be loved. ” I think—I will adopt her. I will claim her! I will make her hurt, mangled mouth smile. But of course, being the Box Artist, I can only take the Blond Child’s photograph. And that only in stealth, hoping I won’t be detected. My heavy black box camera is gritty with dust. It’s an old camera; I am forever blowing dust off the lens, polishing it with my handkerchief. After a few minutes I become reckless and leave the protection of my automobile to squat in the dirt beside the mesh-wire fence, hoping to be hidden by tall weeds; aiming my camera with the assurance of a hunter as, oblivious of me, the Blond Child swings ever higher.
A CONVERGENCE OF BIRDS Original Fiction and Poetry Inspired by the Work of Joseph Cornell by Penguin Press, Jonathan Safran Foer