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Articles by Robert Coover
La festa de Gerald
IdiomacatalàDeutschEnglishespañoleuskarafrançaisgalegoitalianoportuguêsromână
Open House
—The Rea Award for the Short Story —Edwidge Danticat (You save ) Current Stock: Available only in North America from OR Books 152 pages Paperback ISBN 9781682193891 E-book ISBN 9781682193907 Publication July 2023 One hundred floors above Manhattan, a diverse group of guests and gate-crashers come together in a luxurious penthouse. The down-and-out blend seamlessly with the well-to-do.
Mascarade - AOC media
« Des complexités formelles aptes à déboulonner les dogmes sans jamais écarter l’humour. Un humour noir et grinçant, un humour souvent sacrilège et toujours jubilatoire, conçu comme une arme imparable – comment sinon venir à bout de toute vanité ? », a écrit dans nos colonnes Stéphane Vanderhaeghe, son traducteur, lorsque Robert Coover est mort, en octobre.
Robert Coover, Huck Finn et Tom Sawyer à la conquête de l'Ouest
Après la guerre de Sécession, les chemins de Tom Sawyer et Huckleberry Finn se séparent. Tom retourne vers l’est pour apprendre la loi aux côtés du père de Becky Thatcher, sa future épouse. Huck, lui, tue sa solitude dans l’Ouest en vendant ses services au plus offrant : tour à tour guide, éclaireur, bandit de grand chemin ou dresseur de chevaux, il devra choisir de participer ou non aux massacres de l’Union. C’est alors qu’il rencontre Eeteh, un jeune natif lakota en marge de sa tribu.
Pharmaceutics | Free Full-Text | Silver Nanoparticles Selectively Treat Neurofibromatosis Type 1-Associated Plexiform Neurofibroma Cells at Doses That Do Not Affect Patient-Matched Schwann Cells
All articles published by MDPI are made immediately available worldwide under an open access license. No special permission is required to reuse all or part of the article published by MDPI, including figures and tables. For articles published under an open access Creative Common CC BY license, any part of the article may be reused without permission provided that the original article is clearly cited. For more information, please refer to https://www.mdpi.com/openaccess.
Art Spiegelman and Robert Coover in Conversation
Illustrations from Street Cop by Art Spiegelman “Our Zeitgeist has left us mostly with shards of media as our reality. As a writer, or an artist, one tries to gage the atmospheric pressures that surround us.” Physically pocket-sized but ambitious in scope, Street Cop is Robert Coover and Art Spiegelman’s new detective novelette—an anti-racist cop tale about an off-kilter version of the present moment without a news headline in sight.
Art Spiegelman and Robert Coover in Conversation
“Our Zeitgeist has left us mostly with shards of media as our reality. As a writer, or an artist, one tries to gage the atmospheric pressures that surround us.” Physically pocket-sized but ambitious in scope, Street Cop is Robert Coover and Art Spiegelman’s new detective novelette—an anti-racist cop tale about an off-kilter version of the present moment without a news headline in sight.
Robert Coover and Art Spiegelman: “Street Cop” | Bookworm
But the city itself had continued to change in fundamental ways, and, with it, everything else. Space and time had got all mixed up somehow, time becoming more like a place than a flow, containing past and future the same way it contained the present, while the city itself imitated the old experience of time in its restless mutations. Apartment blocks moved into parks, including the ones he once slept in, leaving behind dangerous wastelands. Neighborhoods switched places.
The Public Burning
zoom download zoom download zoom download Grove Press Grove Press Grove Press by Robert Coover “I would guess that since World War II only Lolita, The Invisible Man, and Catch-22 are in [The Public Burning‘s] class for durability.
Citizen Punch | The New Yorker
This is the third story in this summer’s online Flash Fiction series. You can read the entire series, and our Flash Fiction stories from 2017 and 2018, here. Citizen Punch, sitting under his humped back and sugarloaf hat on the lip of the little stage, his floppy legs dangling, is performing for the rowdy seaside audience below him. “Life is shit,” he says with his peculiar wheezle. “Yay!” they yell. “People are better off dead!” “Yay!” “Give me your money!” he says. They do. He loves his audience.
Skylight | The New Yorker
By Silvina Ocampo July 11, 2019 This is the second story in this summer’s online Flash Fiction series. You can read the entire series, and our Flash Fiction stories from 2017 and 2018, here. The elevator gate had gold chalices with flowers and spirals of black iron foliage that would catch your eye when you were sad, watching, hypnotized by those huge snakes, the uncoiling elevator cables. It was my oldest aunt’s house, where I was taken on Saturdays to visit.
Sexy Playboy fiction by Robert Coover
Eternal yet ephemeral, lust comes sharply into focus…and fades Written by Robert Coover Illustration by Spiros Halaris Published on April 23, 2019 Written by Robert Coover Illustration by Spiros Halaris Published on April 23, 2019 He is handsome in a rugged honest way; she is radiantly beautiful. A disembodied narrative voice is quietly cataloging: her heaving bosom, her flushed throat, her fluttering eyelids, her supple hips.
The End of Literature - The American Scholar
Flickr/Matthias Buehler Literature’s mainstream is not a river that flows between fixed banks, but one that must be cut, and it is the experimental writer who, avoiding the backwaters of the often more lucrative and momentarily celebrated conventional writing, can be found at the cutting edge. We all know this.
“Treatments”
They are on a film lot, walking through a pre-shoot reading of a script that calls for a brave traveller—“That’s you, kid,” the director says, leading her forward with an arm around her shoulders—to be lured to the edge of a deep, mysterious forest, known portentously as the Forest of Time.
Robert Coover’s Long Lost Seussian Satire of American Politics
The Cat in the Hat for President is a 1968 election-year tale, written in a mouse-infested Mexico City hotel with brass spittoons in the lobby, a temporary hideout from the University of Iowa, where I was then employed. Iowa, like so many universities, was on the boil that spring.
老ピノッキオ、ヴェネツィアに帰る - 洋書古本ショップ【てつがくのみち】
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Going For a Beer
A collection of the best short fictions from the grandmaster of postmodernism. Robert Coover has been playing by his own rules for more than half a century, earning the 1987 Rea Award for the Short Story as "a writer who has managed, willfully and even perversely, to remain his own man while offering his generous vision and versions of America." Coover finds inspiration in everything from painting, cinema, theater, and dance to slapstick, magic acts, puzzles, and riddles.
The Boss | The New Yorker
This is one of a series of flash-fiction pieces that The New Yorker will be presenting throughout the summer. Read the rest of the stories here . The gunman lights a cigarette, watches despondently as dusk falls upon the empty alley. He is alone in a lonely place, summoned here to receive instructions from a master criminal known only as the Boss, but the Boss isn’t here. No one is. It’s spooky. He feels like a marked man. The Boss is known for his ruthlessness. When he orders a killing, someone dies.
A New Ballgame
he origins of baseball are strangely obscure. Was there a single creator, or did the game slowly evolve? If so, from what? Did that magical symmetry just happen? Or was it necessary to invent Abner Doubleday? Baseball and theology might seem to make strange bedfellows. But like a medieval schoolman who could make theology out of just about anything, Robert Coover has spliced the two together and produced a species of baseball scripture.
Robert Coover | Grove Atlantic
Robert Coover is the award-winning author of twelve other novels. He teaches electronic and experimental writing at Brown University.
The Sunday Newsletter: Love Stories
“There are no happy endings, kid. Just these moments,” one character tells another in Robert Coover’s story “Matinée,” an irreverent look at love, time, and cinema. Those moments are what we experience in this handful of love stories, none of which, it seems, have truly happy endings.
Yemen Bans Raids, Media Coverage of Terrorism, Warren Silenced in the Senate
A fresh alternative in news featuring critical conversations, reports from the field, and listener participation. The Takeaway, hosted by John Hockenberry, provides a breadth and depth of world, national, and regional news coverage that is unprecedented in public media. Subscribe to the podcast ?
Who Would Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer Grow Up to Be?
Jon Clinch came the closest. In 2007, Clinch brought out “Finn,” a technically praiseworthy first novel that elevates Huck’s good-for-nothing father to central-character status. Clinch’s treatment is diminished by two shortcomings. One is that he portrays Pap as a psychopath, unable to control his mayhem and his cannibalism. (Although to be fair, cannibalism-recovery services may not have existed back then.) Psychopaths lack free will and moral choice.
The Hanging of the Schoolmarm
The schoolmarm is playing poker in the town saloon. The stake is the saloon itself. As she is preparing to deal the cards, one of the men demands that she cut the fuckin’ deck, and she shoots him from her lap. “Sorry, but I simply cannot allow . . .” The others tip their crumpled hats. “No, ma’am, you just go ahead and deal.” The men of the town find the schoolmarm difficult but are awed by her refined and lofty character, and generally do what she tells them to do.
This Week in Fiction: Robert Coover on How Real Events Can Color Fiction
“Invasion of the Martians,” your story in this week’s issue, involves a Texas senator’s run-in with some illegal immigrants from Mars. There are a number of ways to read the story and relate it to our current political situation. Did you intend a specific interpretation? The genesis of the story predates the current electoral melodrama in the U.S., but no doubt the final tale has been colored by it.
“Invasion of the Martians”
The handsome Senator from Texas, the Capitol’s leading heartthrob, a former astronaut, and a likely future President, was in bed with two ladies, a young intern and the more mature Secretary of the Interior (the Senator called her the Secretary of the Posterior and had just made several charming off-color but complimentary remarks about hers, bringing an embarrassed flush to all four of her cheeks, and giggles from the intern, who was playing with two of them), when his private security phone...
The Brunist Day Of Wrath By Robert Coover
Forty-seven years ago this month, a NY Times review of The Origin of the Brunists opened with “Robert Coover writes his first novel as if he doesn’t expect to make it to a second.” In that novel, a mine disaster kills 98 men, leaving only one survivor: a simple man named Giovanni Bruno, an Italian Catholic in a divided town, who emerges from the mine changed, speaking in prophetic (or deranged) apothegms. He heralds, to some, the fulfillment of their respective religious ideations.
Dream Reading | Ann Fabian
Early in the spring of 1894, New York State lawmakers set out to investigate New York City’s corrupt police force. Rockland County senator Clarence Lexow headed the committee, which spent the year hearing stories about seedy dealings in the city. The investigators found expected forms of graft—brothel keepers and saloon owners cutting the police a share of their profits, for instance—but also got a glimpse of smaller street-level payoffs, previously not much on their radar.
La Soledad | Robert Coover
We’re in Catalonia on a certain Friday during the celebration of the execution of an accused Middle East terrorist, one of millions over the centuries, though by chance one more famous than most. The mythologized story of his life and death is depicted in the heavy wooden statuary, called pasos, being ported or rolled through the lively square below our fifth-floor hotel balcony by teams of strong-backed men peering out of eyeholes in hooded gowns.
Oil in the Can | Eric Banks
Every spring the attention of horse-racing fans and bettors focuses on Oaklawn, the hundred-year-old racetrack in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Oaklawn hosts one of the more propitious of Kentucky Derby prep races, the Arkansas Derby, which has played an outsize role as a showcase for three-year-old colts rolling into form just in time for the big stage a few weeks later in Louisville.
The Norfolk Daily News
He died Wednesday, Dec. 23, 2015, at the Norfolk Veteran’s Home. Robert Dale “Bob” Coover was born on Jan. 29, 1927, the son of Arthur and Dorotha (Allen) Coover at Orchard. His education was in rural schools in the area. On March 16, 1945, Bob joined the U.S. Navy and served aboard the USS Rudyard Bay aircraft carrier. His ship was one-half day away from Japan when the atomic bomb was dropped. He earned his honorable discharge on March 18, 1946.
The Crabapple Tree
This happened here in our town. A friend of mine—we were on the cheerleading team together—married a local farmer, and right away they wanted to have a baby, though the doctor said she shouldn’t. She was a bleeder, he said, and if she started he might not be able to stop it. But she didn’t listen. She went ahead and got pregnant, then bled to death during childbirth and was buried out by the farmhouse, under a crabapple tree. It was very sad. I cried for a week.
2015-01-12 - The New Yorker
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Discover more stories from nine decades of The New Yorker, from classic Profiles to short fiction—with new favorites highlighted every week. Explore issues from February 21, 1925, to this week.
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The Best Baseball Novels
Why do you think baseball forms the basis for so many great American novels? In a sense, it is because baseball symbolises something that was at one point an idealised version of American life. Today I think it is an idealised version of a fantasy American life – which is pastoral, honest, competitive and entertaining. But most importantly, baseball recreates the quotidian nature of existence. It is an everyday game.
Matinée | The New Yorker
Weary of the tedium of her days, her lonely life going nowhere, she skips work and steps inside a half-empty old movie house showing a scratched and grainy romantic film from her youth; she takes her favorite seat in the middle of the seventh row, hoping to experience once again the consoling power of sudden uncomplicated love, even if not one’s own, love that has no trajectory attached to it but is a pure and immediate enrichment of the soul and delight of the body.
“Going for a Beer”
He finds himself sitting in the neighborhood bar drinking a beer at about the same time that he began to think about going there for one. In fact, he has finished it. Perhaps he’ll have a second one, he thinks, as he downs it and asks for a third. There is a young woman sitting not far from him who is not exactly good-looking but good-looking enough, and probably good in bed, as indeed she is. Did he finish his beer? Can’t remember. What really matters is: Did he enjoy his orgasm? Or even have one?
The Go-Go Dancer
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