The Headless Horseman Rides Again!

Great reading for this time of year, a timeless All-American Classic, starring the unforgettable, hapless Ichabod Crane. A Free Online Video of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow [clickit] also available with good scary music.

The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow

By Washington Irving

A pleasing land of drowsy head it was, Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye; And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, Forever flushing round a summer sky. Castle of Indolence.

In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they always prudently shortened sail and implored the protection of St. Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a small market town or rural port, which by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly known by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given, we are told, in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the village tavern on market days. Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact, but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little valley or rather lap of land among high hills, which is one of the quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it, with just murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasional whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only sound that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity.

I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noontime, when all nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes. If ever I should wish for a retreat whither I might steal from the world and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little valley.

From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this sequestered glen has long been known by the name of SLEEPY HOLLOW, and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the neighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place was bewitched by a High German doctor, during the early days of the settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered by Master Hendrick Hudson. Certain it is, the place still continues under the sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds of the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie. They are given to all kinds of marvelous beliefs; are subject to trances and visions, and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in the air. The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots, and twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare oftener across the valley than in any other part of the country, and the nightmare, with her whole ninefold, seems to make it the favorite scene of her gambols.

The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the apparition of a figure on horseback, without a head. It is said by some to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the Revolutionary War, and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk hurrying along in the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and especially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning this spectre, allege that the body of the trooper having been buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest of his head, and that the rushing speed with which he sometimes passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the churchyard before daybreak.

Poe Scholars Announce New Evidence Shows "The Fall of the House of Usher" Not Fiction, But Article Poe Filed with Baltimore Sun as a Reporter on Assignment

Baltimore, M.D. Poe scholars have issued a press release to newswires sure to rock the literary world and to catapult the long dead and ever creepy great American author back onto the bestseller lists.  A panel of Poe experts says it has discovered a marked-up, heavily edited original manuscript of "The Fall of the House of Usher" in the archives of the Baltimore Sun Newspaper submitted and signed by Edgar Allan Poe with the note in his own hand reading, "Final Draft, all facts checked out, of House of Usher piece" in 1836. With a few emandations, Poe published the article as fiction in 1839 and titled it, "The Fall of the House of Usher."

Other papers found by the panel indicate Poe was paid $2.00 for the article, was chronically late with his work for the Baltimore newspaper and was reprimanded several times for his "peculiar nervousness" and excessive alcohol consumption at the newspaper's offices.

Editor’s Note: The following text appeared as a story in Poe’s collection entitled Tales in 1839.

The Fall Of The House Of Usher

by Edgar Allan Poe

During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it was--but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit.

Elvis Had a Love Child with an Alien, New Book Claims

Coming Soon: An Exclusive Free Online Interview with the Author  of  the forthcoming book,  Elvis' Alien Love Child,  Meredith B.  Browne, Phd.Ed.

Don't Miss It.

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The 7 Habits of Highly Successful Writers

The cumulative writing and publishing experience of the editors at The Ripping Online Reader is well over 100 years.  And, as you know, the amount of time spent multiplied by a type of experience equals a quantity of wisdom. 

Because so many of our readers are writers as well, and good writers are innately curious and always searching for ways to improve their mastery of the craft, we offer a succinct summation of what we have observed about the most successful writers we have worked with over the years.

1. They write every day.  No excuses.
2. They are voracious, omniverous readers.
3. They write books and stories they would want to read themselves.
4. They watch and listen carefully to how people behave and talk so they can create credible characters and plots.
5. They have learned how to indulge and nourish their imaginations.
6. They think of writing as a way of "making" something and find great pleasure in the activity itself.
7. They throw away a lot of stuff, and revise, revise, and never give up.

Hilary Mantel Wins the Booker and Receives a Pittance

A Former Judge Flogs the Booker Prize [clickit]
The trouble with the English is that they are so English. They think that the works of native sons Chaucer and Shakespeare demonstrated for all eternity their racial superiority at the writing game. (And who knows? Maybe they're right.) Coincident with this is the so English  notion that prestige is sufficient reward for good writing, for, after all, the best writers write for love of their craft, to hell with money.           

Photo: Oliver Cromwell's Head.  Read about who did this to him and why in Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel, this year's Booker Prize winner.  Help Hilary, buy the book. 

Be that as it may, anyone interested in reading a novel set in 16th century England about statesman-rabble-rouser Oliver Cromwell should rush immediately to the nearest bookstore and buy this year's Booker choice, Wolf Hall.

Nobel Winner Herta Mueller's Stories Suddenly in Great Demand, Go Figure

Photo: Herta pre-Nobel

Who says university presses never publish stuff people (if they were telling the truth) really want to read?

Second question: How is it that University of Nebraska Press has published two consecutive
Nobel winners?

 Herta post-Nobel

Publishers Weekly on spike in demand for Herta Mueller's Nadir [Click, click]

A Conversation with Annie Lamott

Annie Lamott talks about her writing career and her attraction to unusual characters and "imperfect people." [clickit]

An indepth, revealing, very personal chat.

Interview with Tracy Kidder about His New Book, Strength in What Remains

A video interview in which Kidder discusses the genesis of this very moving story about a real life hero in Burundi.

NewsFlash

Since its launch only a week ago, the new book review The Oracular Reader has taken the book world by storm. It has been called bratty, arrogant, outrageous, offensive, hyper-opinionated, predjudiced, misinformed, awful, and many things far worse. Yet in an informal survey of readers of the new rag on books, one word keeps popping up. A sampling of their remarks:

It’s got zip.—F. Scott Fitzgerald

Prescient, puckish and dramatically zippy.—William Shakespeare

In spite of its use of adjectives and adverbs, it still has plenty of zip.—Earnest Hemingway

I fainted the first time I encountered it from all of the inebriating zip.—Emily Dickinson

As prophetic as Teresias, but much zippier.—Homer

Wickedly zippy, but in a good way.—Flannery O’Connor

A delusional, out of control case of zipomania. I'm really into it already.—Edgar Allen Poe

Everyone is a critic, so decide for yourself. Read the just published, most recent issue of The Oracular Reader with its exclusive, revealing, no-holds-barred interview with the biggest icon of modern poetry:

An Exclusive Post Mortem Interview
 with the Legendary T. S. Eliot

In it, for the first time ever, Eliot bares his soul and confesses:

• What the footnotes really mean.

• What it was like to be worshipped and lionized even though he knew he deserved it.

• His world-beater vocabulary was the result of memorizing at the age of five the Unabridged, 10,000 volume, Oxford English Dictionary.

• How his cocker spaniel Frisky taught him to French kiss and how they practiced technique in his mother’s basement.

• His love for fried chitlins and slow cooked mixed greens.

• His lifelong struggle with his irrational disdain for past participles, which often crippled his ability to write and sent him fleeing for the comfort of Frisky.

• How he really wanted to be a podiatrist but his mother forced him to be a great poet instead.

• His favorite contemporary poet after himself.

• His mother’s shameful dictionary dependence.

• His fear of pronouns, which he said were "horrid, evil, faceless little people out to get me."

• His left foot was 3 cm. smaller than his right foot.

• He faked knowing Sanskrit and ancient Greek and got away with it because no one else did either.

• Why he never learned to play the organ.

• What he thinks of today’s “poetizers and moonbeam rhymers.”

• His organic , environmentally friendly method for coming up with self-sustaining metaphors.

• How his parents had to take out second and third mortgages to pay his school boy library fines.

• How his truffle addiction nearly cost him his life in an encounter with an angry forest gnome.

• Why he never finished a single book he started unless he read it backwards , upside down in a dark room all by himself with a flashlight and chocolate cupcakes.

• He always wrote whatever popped into his head, whether it made sense or not, and never revised. "Unfettered spontaneity is the fountainhead of genius. Thinking craps everything up."

• And much, much more, including the stunning revelation that his nickname for both of his wives was "Frisky."

Questions and solicitations for further information should be directed to: oracular.reader@gmail.com

A Post Mortem Q. and A. with the Legendary T.S. Eliot

An Oracular Reader Exclusive.  Editor's Note: According to the ground rules established for this interview, certain strictures of confidentiality apply as to disclosure of the time and place of the interview. Also per this agreement the following were considered off-limits for our questions: his golf handicap, thesaurus and rhyming dictionary use, anything to do with Bartlett's Quotations, the final ROI on his poetry, and his wives' undergarments.

~........~

OR: You don't look anything like your pictures.  Have you lost weight or something?

TS: Actually, I have.  Quite a bit.

OR: So how've you been?

TS: Perfect, thank you.

OR: Would you like to expand on that?

TS: No.  If you don't understand the word, look it up, for heavensake.

OR: Okee-dokee, the number one question on our list is, why all the footnotes? They really don't help that much.  Your footnotes need footnotes!  Wouldn't it have been easier to hire a translator?

TS: Your reading seems to have stopped with the Norton Anthologies.

OR: On to the next item of burning interest to our readers. Were you always a good speller or did you have to work at it?

TS:  I was always good with spelling.  It's a natural gift.  Probably genetic as well, given Mother's punctilious, obssesive resort to her vast library of dictionaries every time I opened my mouth.

OR:  This isn't on the list, but I just have to ask.  What was it like to be T.S. Eliot?  Your stature in modern poetry is unparalleled, your influence on the world of letters awesome and intimidating to other poets.  Scholars have made lucrative careers trying to figure out what you meant in your poems. So how did all of that feel?

T.S. Incomparable. And I 100% deserved it, if that's what you're getting at.  Look at me:  are you suggesting that I wasn't the genuine article?  Like maybe I faked it or plagarized?

OR:  Well, you did lift a lot of material from earlier works not your own. 

TS: I'm clean. I always gave full credit. Check the damn footnotes if you don't believe me.

OR:  Unfortunately I don't read Sanskrit or ancient Greek.

TS: So when you learn, get back to me.  It's not hard.

OR:  You got that right, which brings me to another question.  Were you trying to be hard, and if so, had you done any focus groups to gauge the benefits of an arcane, unintelligible style?

TS: Shanti, shanti, shanti.

OR: Amen, brother! And so very true. Next question: where did you get your ideas for poems? Some of them require two shots of tequila just to think about.

TS: "Apeneck Sweeney spreads his knees/Letting his arms hang down to laugh . . . ."  Understand me?  Have I made myself perfectly clear?

OR: Absolutely. And a good one! You hit the nail on the head.  So who was your favorite poet among your contemporaries, other than yourself of course?

TS: Wallace Stevens. "Complacencies of the peignoir . . . ."

OR: But he was an atheist. And you weren't. Or aren't.

TS: He's not anymore.  He's my golf partner.

OR: If I recollect correctly, he won more prizes and awards than you.

TS: Baloney.  He never won the Nobel.

OR: Next question. Of all your towering, immortal, inscrutable works, which gave you the most lasting satisfaction?

TS: Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats.

OR: And why?

TS: Because I love cats and nursery rhymes.

OR: Fascinating.

T.S. Yes, it is.  You see, fundamentally, I am feline.  Meow!  Kitty can scratch! Incidentally,  have you ever done a close reading of "Puss n' Boots?" You really must.  The rewards are immense.  The treasures it yields to the discerning reader are indescribable. Astounding that critics have ignored it for so long.

OR: Not yet, but it's on my to-do list. A gaping hole in my education.  I tried to sign up for a class on it once, but it was already closed.  So, any advice for young poets just starting out today?

TS: Did I mention I play bongos in a group here?

OR: No, really?

TS: Yes, and I'm rather good, actually. And, actually, I have them right here with me, as luck would have it.  How very, very fortunate!  The group is working on a new set and . . . .well, just tell me what you think . . . .

Amazon Needs to Clean Up Its Act

The visuals and interface of Amazon's books site have deteriorated over the years to the point that now it is a virtual eyesore.  It has all the merchandising focus and class of an open air Middle Eastern bazaar, replete with hawkers, bargain merchants, deal makers and book pimps. Anyone seriously searching for a title or author is assaulted by a confusing hullabaloo of slashed prices, used copies, special offers, ads for unrelated items, vacuous reader commentary, obtuse off-the-mark recommendations, and other flotsam and jetsam ad nauseum.

It is an affront to readers' sensibilities.

So, please Amazon, de-clutterize! Hire a feng shui expert!  Defenestrate! Pick up the trash and take out the garbage!

Feng-Shui-Tips for Amazon, compliments of The Ripping Online Reader.

Best Novels on Current Bestseller Lists

It's not widely known outside of publishing circles, but book publishers (the big ones, that is) are adepts at manipulating bestseller lists and jimmying their mechanics to get their titles on the lists.  This is particularly the case if they have paid a big advance for a book.

The English philosopher John Locke (1632-1704) perhaps said it best hundreds of years ago:

Books  seem ... to infect all that trade in them ... with something very perverse and brutal. Printers, binders, sellers, and others that make a trade and gain out of them have universally so odd a turn and corruption of mind that they have a way of dealing peculiar to themselves, and not conformed to the good of society and that general fairness which cements mankind.

So as a sort of poke in the eye to those sneaks, herewith is a highly opinionated, though well informed, list of current bestseller novels actually worth their purchase price and your precious, limited reading time. Sorry the list is so short!

•  THE HELP, by Kathryn Stockett. (Amy Einhorn/Putnam, $24.95.)
•  SOUTH OF BROAD, by Pat Conroy. (Nan A. Talese/Doubleday, $29.95)
•  HOMER and LANGLEY, by E. L. Doctorow (Random House, $26.00)

All three titles have been heavily reviewed elsewhere.  If you would like to peek at some of the more thoughtful reviews, follow these links.
BookPage
Publishers Weekly

Going Viral with Books

Book publishers have awakened from their long slumber. Fearful of being digitalized out of existence, they are pursuing every tweet and flickr, rumored or real, that might result in better book sales. Check out what Publishers Weekly has to say on this phenom in its most recent issue.

The Viral Loop
Start with Twitter?