[{"id":277141,"date":"2026-09-16T12:40:17","date_gmt":"2026-09-16T16:40:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=277141"},"modified":"2026-09-16T12:46:29","modified_gmt":"2026-09-16T16:46:29","slug":"remembering-the-great-annie-dillard","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/remembering-the-great-annie-dillard\/","title":{"rendered":"Remembering the great Annie Dillard."},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Annie Dillard, the masterful stylist and brilliant thinker, has died at 81. Her death was confirmed by her literary executor, Maggie Nelson. Dillard, who wrote in many forms and experiments, was an invigorating writer whose dedication and care seemed to make anything possible.<\/p>\n<p>Her first book, the Pulitzer Prize winning <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780061233326\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>Pilgrim at Tinker Creek<\/em>,<\/a> was a <i>Walden <\/i>for a new age, a psalm to nature and the passing of seasons, written at night in a college library while she drank chocolate milk.<\/p>\n<p>The complications from <i>Pilgrim<\/i>\u2019s immediate success sent Dillard in search of new ways of writing. She published essays, poems, criticism, novels, journalism, and <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780060919887\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">a best selling reflection on the life of a writer<\/a>. I particularly love her book of found poems <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780060927257\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Mornings Like This<\/a><\/em>\u2014though not her words, it\u2019s a wonderful showcase of her intelligence, wit, and lyricism.<\/p>\n<p>As she wrote in <i><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780060919887\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">The Writing Life<\/a>,<\/i> \u201cHow we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing.\u201d Why not spend an hour with Dillard\u2019s writing, and some reflections on her life and work from her friends and admirers on Lit Hub?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">***<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"padding-left: 40px;text-align: center\"><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/read-annie-dillards-greatest-writing-advice\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">\u201cWrite as if you were dying.\u201d Read Annie Dillard\u2019s greatest writing advice<\/a>, Walker Caplan<\/strong><\/h5>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px\">What would you begin writing if you knew you would die soon? What could you say to a dying patient that would not enrage by its triviality?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">***<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"padding-left: 40px;text-align: center\"><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/annie-dillard-on-how-writers-learn-to-trust-instinct\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Annie Dillard on How Writers Learn to Trust Instinct<\/a>, Annie Dillard<\/strong><\/h5>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px\">The reason to perfect a piece of prose as it progresses\u2014to secure each sentence before building on it\u2014is that original writing fashions a form. It unrolls out into nothingness. It grows cell to cell, bole to bough to twig to leaf; any careful word may suggest a route, may begin a strand of metaphor or event out of which much, or all, will develop. Perfecting the work inch by inch, writing from the first word toward the last, displays the courage and fear this method induces.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">***<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"padding-left: 40px;text-align: center\"><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-time-i-played-catch-with-annie-dillard\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">The Time I Played Catch with Annie Dillard<\/a>, Michael Croley<\/strong><\/h5>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px\">Annie threw first. A soft but straight throw to my chest. I lobbed it back to her. All of those first throws were fine and then she short-hopped me and the ball went spinning into the concrete sidewalk, clipping my shin, and heading down the street toward Spring Bayou. I broke into a jog and scooped it up with my glove. \u201cSorry,\u201d Annie called.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">***<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center\"><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/geoff-dyer-what-kind-of-writer-is-annie-dillard\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">&#8220;What Kind of Writer is Annie Dillard?\u201d,<\/a> Geoff Dyer<\/strong><\/h5>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px\">Dillard opens our eyes to the world and to new ways of articulating what we see. More exactly, she alerts us to the possibility of being free of formal conventions that constrain in the guise of enabling. She does this when you first read her and does so again when you re-read her. She did it in <i>Pilgrim at Tinker Creek<\/i> and she is doing it again in <i>The Abundance<\/i> in what might be regarded as a re-framing or re-hang of much-loved work. The pleasure and excitement are intense whether you know the original material well or are encountering it\u2014waking to its astonishments\u2014for the first time.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">***<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center\"><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/contemplating-the-infinite-with-annie-dillard\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Contemplating the Infinite with Annie Dillard<\/a>, John Freeman<\/strong><\/h5>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px\">But most of all, through everything, she has never stopped reading. \u201cI have written down every book I\u2019ve read since 1964,\u201d Dillard explains as I turn the Berger book over now, wondering in what obscure corner of her mind she will sock this information away.<br \/>\n\u2026<br \/>\nAs for her, what is she after, inhaling those hundred or more books a year since age five? That library in the sky of her mind she has built. What is she seeking? \u201cIt\u2019s what I\u2019m for,\u201d Dillard says simply, putting out her cigarette. \u201cSomebody has to read all these books.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">***<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center\"><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/jen-hadfield-on-annie-dillards-pilgrim-at-tinker-creek\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Jen Hadfield on Annie Dillard\u2019s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek<\/a>, in conversation with Michael Kelleher<\/strong><\/h5>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px\">So she focuses on Tinker Creek, which in theory is finite and bounded: it\u2019s a single place that she sets out to talk about in theory, although she\u00a0 does travague around, as folks say in Scots, but the detail that she conjures of that place makes you realize that the detail is infinite.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">***<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center\"><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/annie-dillards-total-eclipse-is-the-best-thing-you-can-read-about-the-eclipse-today\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Annie Dillard&#8217;s &#8220;Total Eclipse&#8221; is the best thing you can read about the eclipse today<\/a>, Emily Temple<\/strong><\/h5>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px\">I had seen a partial eclipse in 1970. A partial eclipse is very interesting. It bears almost no relation to a total eclipse. Seeing a partial eclipse bears the same relation to seeing a total eclipse as kissing a man does to marrying him, or as flying in an airplane does to falling out of an airplane.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">***<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center\"><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/yes-she-reads-everything-pico-iyer-on-annie-dillard\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Yes, She Reads Everything: Pico Iyer on Annie Dillard<\/a>, Pico Iyer<\/strong><\/h5>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px\">Annie is like a whirlwind constantly throwing off sparks, and angled towards delight; yet underneath that, she is someone who takes her human responsibilities with the deepest, lightest seriousness. Irreverent towards orthodoxy, she\u2019s never impatient with compassion. I\u2019m not surprised that so many books (like the most recent one by Phyllis Rose, like one I am trying to complete right now) are dedicated to her; she\u2019s a writer who has thrown open windows for generations to come, but she\u2019s also a living soul whose great delight is in opening doors for others.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Annie Dillard, the masterful stylist and brilliant thinker, has died at 81. Her death was confirmed by her literary executor, Maggie Nelson. Dillard, who wrote in many forms and experiments, was an invigorating writer whose dedication and care seemed to<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17056,"featured_media":35208,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43201,43257,43103,43231,43092,43360,43646],"tags":[1427,43045],"class_list":["post-277141","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-news-newsandculture","category-humor","category-memoir","category-nature","category-newsandculture","category-religion","category-the-hub","tag-annie-dillard","tag-obituary"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a61","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/03\/annie-dillard.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277141","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/17056"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=277141"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277141\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/35208"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=277141"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=277141"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=277141"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":277135,"date":"2026-09-16T12:22:03","date_gmt":"2026-09-16T16:22:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=277135"},"modified":"2026-09-16T12:22:03","modified_gmt":"2026-09-16T16:22:03","slug":"librarians-won-big-at-the-2026-emmys","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/librarians-won-big-at-the-2026-emmys\/","title":{"rendered":"Librarians won big at the 2026 Emmys."},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Though we do well to celebrate the rise of <em>Widow&#8217;s Bay<\/em> and Jean Smart&#8217;s 193rd public recognition, another excellent thing happened at the Emmys this year: librarians got a <a href=\"https:\/\/www.schoollibraryjournal.com\/story\/An-Emmy-Win-Powerful-Moment-Collective-Joy-resistance\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">much-deserved shout-out<\/a>.<\/p>\n<p>Specifically recognized were the librarians behind <a href=\"https:\/\/www.pbs.org\/independentlens\/documentaries\/the-librarians\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>The Librarians<\/em><\/a>, a documentary about the public workers on the front lines of the fight against book bans. Our <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theguardian.com\/film\/2025\/jan\/27\/new-film-explores-book-bans-us-libraries\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">chicest bibliophile<\/a>, Sarah Jessica Parker, championed this project from its Sundance debut all the way to the strip.<\/p>\n<p>Produced and directed by the Peabody Award-winning filmmaker Kim Snyder\u2014whose previous work includes <em>Newtown\u2014<\/em>the <a href=\"https:\/\/thelibrariansfilm.com\/about\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">doc<\/a> centers library workers in Florida, Louisiana, New Jersey, and Texas who have suffered career consequences for defying book bans. Legislative efforts to censor books\u2014like the fascistic <a href=\"https:\/\/www.npr.org\/2021\/10\/28\/1050013664\/texas-lawmaker-matt-krause-launches-inquiry-into-850-books\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Krause List<\/a> <a href=\"https:\/\/static.texastribune.org\/media\/files\/94fee7ff93eff9609f141433e41f8ae1\/krausebooklist.pdf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">campaign<\/a>, in Texas\u2014are also explored in depth.<\/p>\n<p>The result is a watch as grim as it is inspiring. On the one hand, the film pays witness to all the authoritarian insanity unfolding at state houses around the country. But on the other, it celebrates the everyday heroes who are standing up to censorship.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe are proud to stand in solidarity with all our courageous librarians, true heroes, and so many others across the nation who continue to fight to defend our First Amendment rights and our freedom to read,\u201d Snyder said, as she <a href=\"https:\/\/www.televisionacademy.com\/video\/exceptional-merit-documentary-filmmaking-the-librarians-78th-emmy-awards\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">accepted the Emmy for Exceptional Merit in Documentary Filmmaking<\/a>.<\/p>\n<p>Watch the rest of Snyder&#8217;s stirring acceptance speech <a href=\"https:\/\/youtu.be\/UzFMlh5bDto?si=dw2eI6dsyhTY8LNX\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">here<\/a>. (And catch the film itself <a href=\"https:\/\/www.pbs.org\/independentlens\/documentaries\/the-librarians\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">here<\/a>.)<\/p>\n<p><em>And<\/em> if possible, thank a librarian today.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Though we do well to celebrate the rise of Widow&#8217;s Bay and Jean Smart&#8217;s 193rd public recognition, another excellent thing happened at the Emmys this year: librarians got a much-deserved shout-out. Specifically recognized were the librarians behind The Librarians, a<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17066,"featured_media":277140,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43105,43109,43093,43092,43095,43646],"tags":[1548,71934,4352,68079,71975,112314,1048,6808,22962,112313],"class_list":["post-277135","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-bookstores-and-libraries","category-events","category-film-and-tv","category-newsandculture","category-politics","category-the-hub","tag-awards","tag-book-bans","tag-censorship","tag-documentary-film","tag-emmys","tag-krause-list","tag-libraries","tag-pbs","tag-sarah-jessica-parker","tag-the-librarians"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a5V","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/emmys-win-on-stage-cr_phil-mccarten-e1789574094935.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277135","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/17066"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=277135"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277135\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/277140"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=277135"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=277135"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=277135"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":277068,"date":"2026-09-16T10:55:07","date_gmt":"2026-09-16T14:55:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=277068"},"modified":"2026-09-16T10:55:30","modified_gmt":"2026-09-16T14:55:30","slug":"a-sneak-preview-of-the-literary-films-currently-dominating-the-festival-circuit","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/a-sneak-preview-of-the-literary-films-currently-dominating-the-festival-circuit\/","title":{"rendered":"A sneak preview of the literary films currently dominating the festival circuit."},"content":{"rendered":"<p>It&#8217;s looking like a great year for indie\u00a0cinema. Which is swell news for nerds. For those of us particularly loyal to print <em>and<\/em> celluloid, the late festival circuit\u2014including the Venice Biennale, New York Film Fest (NYFF), and the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF)\u2014is boasting a bumper crop.<\/p>\n<p>From adaptations to biopics to docs, here are some of the key literary offerings to watch out for this festival season. Fingers crossed for distribution deals, where apropos.<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"277079\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/a-sneak-preview-of-the-literary-films-currently-dominating-the-festival-circuit\/untitled-design-35-9\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-35.png\" data-orig-size=\"800,400\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-35.png\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-277079 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-35.png\" alt=\"Clarissa Mrs. Dalloway\" width=\"800\" height=\"400\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-35.png 800w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-35-300x150.png 300w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-35-768x384.png 768w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-35-60x30.png 60w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-35-50x25.png 50w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\" \/><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>Clarissa<\/em><\/strong> arrives at the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.filmcomment.com\/article\/interview-arie-esiri-chuko-esiri-and-blair-mcclendon-on-clarissa\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">New York Film Festival<\/a> next week. A perfect Sophie Okonedo spearheads this buzzy adaptation of Virginia Woolf&#8217;s <strong><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780593311806\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>Mrs. Dalloway.<\/em><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n<p>This take on the classic brings the drama to Nigeria, where the veteran Septimus is traumatized not by the trenches but his time spent fighting the Boko Haram insurgency. Ayo Edibiri costars, and is also rumored to be excellent.<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"277078\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/a-sneak-preview-of-the-literary-films-currently-dominating-the-festival-circuit\/untitled-design-34-9\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-34.png\" data-orig-size=\"800,400\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-34.png\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-277078 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-34.png\" alt=\"A Long Winter film \" width=\"800\" height=\"400\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-34.png 800w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-34-300x150.png 300w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-34-768x384.png 768w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-34-60x30.png 60w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-34-50x25.png 50w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\" \/><\/p>\n<p>Andrew Haigh&#8217;s<strong>\u00a0<em><a href=\"https:\/\/variety.com\/2026\/film\/reviews\/a-long-winter-review-andrew-haigh-1236850173\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">A Long Winter<\/a>\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>(TIFF) is adapted from the Colm T\u00f3ib\u00edn <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781668212714\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">story of the same name<\/a>. Set on the eve of the Korean war, this ruminative story follows a midwestern family that&#8217;s fractured by a mother&#8217;s sudden disappearance.<\/p>\n<p>Ebon Moss-Bachrach plays the repressed coal-miner father. Which, honestly? Feels on the money.<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"277127\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/a-sneak-preview-of-the-literary-films-currently-dominating-the-festival-circuit\/untitled-design-39-9\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-39.png\" data-orig-size=\"800,400\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"Untitled design (39)\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-39.png\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-277127 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-39.png\" alt=\"Diary of a Chambermaid Radu Jude\" width=\"800\" height=\"400\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-39.png 800w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-39-300x150.png 300w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-39-768x384.png 768w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-39-60x30.png 60w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-39-50x25.png 50w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\" \/><\/p>\n<p>The prolific Romanian satirist Radu Jude is back at NYFF with a new piece of sociological shrapnel. <strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.filmlinc.org\/films\/the-diary-of-a-chambermaid\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>The Diary of a Chambermaid<\/em><\/a><\/strong> is (loosely!) adapted from <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781515345770\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">a 1900 novel<\/a> by Octave Mirbeau\u2014a book that previously made the leap to the screen in 1946, thanks to Jean Renoir.<\/p>\n<p>This project, like all of Jude&#8217;s others, considers modern day class dynamics in Europe.<\/p>\n<p>And though it&#8217;s not technically an adaptation, Pawe\u0142 Pawlikowski&#8217;s <em><a href=\"https:\/\/www.filmlinc.org\/nyff2026\/films\/fatherland\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><strong>Fatherland<\/strong><\/a> <\/em>also deserves a place on the literary cinephile&#8217;s radar. This historical spec-fic soon coming to NYFF follows the novelist <strong>Thomas Mann<\/strong> (Hanns Zischler) and his daughter Erika Mann (Sandra H\u00fcller) on &#8220;a fictionalized 1949 road trip across a torn Germany.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;d climb a <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780679772873\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><strong><em>Magic Mountain<\/em><\/strong><\/a> to see H\u00fcller do just about anything, so I&#8217;ll be seated for this one.<\/p>\n<span class=\"caption\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"277084\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/a-sneak-preview-of-the-literary-films-currently-dominating-the-festival-circuit\/untitled-design-37-9\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-37.png\" data-orig-size=\"800,400\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"&lt;p&gt;Still from Once Upon a Time in Harlem. &lt;\/p&gt;\n\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-37.png\" class=\"wp-image-277084 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-37.png\" alt=\"Still from Once Upon a Time in Harlem. \" width=\"800\" height=\"400\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-37.png 800w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-37-300x150.png 300w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-37-768x384.png 768w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-37-60x30.png 60w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-37-50x25.png 50w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\" \/> <em>Once Upon a Time in Harlem<\/em>.<\/span>\n<p>This year&#8217;s NYFF is also host to a bevy of literary documentaries. The recovered William Greaves <a href=\"https:\/\/www.newyorker.com\/culture\/the-front-row\/once-upon-a-time-in-harlem-is-a-film-for-the-ages\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">masterpiece<\/a>, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.filmlinc.org\/nyff2026\/films\/once-upon-a-time-in-harlem\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><strong><em>Once Upon a Time in Harlem<\/em><\/strong><\/a>, looks at luminaries of the Harlem Renaissance. On other screens, new docs about <a href=\"https:\/\/www.filmlinc.org\/nyff2026\/films\/edward-said-between-worlds\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Edward Said<\/a> and <a href=\"https:\/\/www.filmlinc.org\/nyff2026\/films\/life-of-jorge-luis-borges\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Jorge Luis Borges<\/a> reconstruct lives of the greats.<\/p>\n<p>And for those on a <em>highly<\/em> particular Bingo quest, Pradip Krishen&#8217;s <a href=\"https:\/\/www.filmlinc.org\/nyff2026\/films\/in-which-annie-gives-it-those\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">restored first film<\/a>\u2014also running at NYFF\u2014boasts a screenplay by a writer you probably know best for her books: <strong>Arundhati Roy<\/strong><em>.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"277085\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/a-sneak-preview-of-the-literary-films-currently-dominating-the-festival-circuit\/untitled-design-38-9\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-38.png\" data-orig-size=\"800,400\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-38.png\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-277085 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-38.png\" alt=\"Arundhati Roy \" width=\"800\" height=\"400\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-38.png 800w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-38-300x150.png 300w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-38-768x384.png 768w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-38-60x30.png 60w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-38-50x25.png 50w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\" \/><\/p>\n<p>In across the pond news, Nanni Moretti&#8217;s <em>Succeder\u00e0 questa notte<\/em> (English title:<a href=\"https:\/\/www.labiennale.org\/en\/cinema\/2026\/venezia-83-competition\/succeder%C3%A0-questa-notte-it-will-happen-tonight\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><strong><em> It Will Happen Tonight<\/em><\/strong><\/a>) played in competition at this year&#8217;s Biennale. And is making its international premiere <a href=\"https:\/\/tiff.net\/films\/it-will-happen-tonight\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">in Toronto<\/a> as we speak.<\/p>\n<p>The time-bending romance, led by the charming Louis Garrel, is based on <em>Hungry Heart<\/em>, a book of shorts by <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781590518786\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Eshkol Nevo<\/a>. (Which is, itself, a reference to the Bruce Springsteen song. Oh, the layers of art!)<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"277081\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/a-sneak-preview-of-the-literary-films-currently-dominating-the-festival-circuit\/untitled-design-36-9\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-36.png\" data-orig-size=\"800,400\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-36.png\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-277081 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-36.png\" alt=\"The Idiot Dostoevsky film\" width=\"800\" height=\"400\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-36.png 800w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-36-300x150.png 300w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-36-768x384.png 768w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-36-60x30.png 60w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-36-50x25.png 50w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\" \/><\/p>\n<p>Also on the interpretive biopic front, we have <a href=\"https:\/\/www.tiff.net\/films\/the-idiots\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><strong><em>The Idiot(s)<\/em><\/strong><\/a> from Polish filmmaker Ma\u0142gorzata Szumowska and DP Micha\u0142 Englert.<\/p>\n<p>This film\u2014which just made its Canadian debut at TIFF\u2014imagines the Dostoevskys on their honeymoon. The broodier one of the couple has writer&#8217;s block, but\u2014spoiler, <em>I guess<\/em>?\u2014finds inspiration by journey&#8217;s end. (Perhaps to write <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781324096375\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>The Idiot<\/em><\/a>.)<\/p>\n<p>Also in Toronto, Anton Corbijn&#8217;s <a href=\"https:\/\/tiff.net\/films\/a-talent-for-murder\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>A Talent for Murder<\/em><\/a> pulls a similar trick, re-imagining the late Patricia Highsmith as a scheming host played by Helen Mirren. (Find the trailer <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/helen-mirren-is-playing-patricia-highsmith-watch-the-trailer-for-a-talent-for-murder\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">here<\/a>.)<\/p>\n<p>Still hungry for that sweet, sweet crossover IP but unmoored to a major city? Fret not! We&#8217;ve got you <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/36-literary-movies-and-tv-shows-to-watch-this-fall\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">covered<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>It&#8217;s looking like a great year for indie\u00a0cinema. Which is swell news for nerds. For those of us particularly loyal to print and celluloid, the late festival circuit\u2014including the Venice Biennale, New York Film Fest (NYFF), and the Toronto International<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17066,"featured_media":277128,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43201,43109,43093,43092,43098,43646],"tags":[10061,7301,1624,29873,33540,108879,25060,99283,2889,61062,112306,2474,112305,4842,27976,112290,659],"class_list":["post-277068","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-news-newsandculture","category-events","category-film-and-tv","category-newsandculture","category-style","category-the-hub","tag-arundhati-roy","tag-clarissa","tag-colm-toibin","tag-edward-said","tag-eshkol-nevo","tag-fatherland","tag-harlem-renaissance","tag-ip","tag-jorge-luis-borges","tag-new-york-film-festival","tag-octave-mirbeau","tag-patricia-highsmith","tag-radu-jude","tag-thomas-mann","tag-toronto-international-film-festival","tag-venice-film-festival","tag-virginia-woolf","book-a-long-winter","book-hungry-heart","book-mrs-dalloway","book-the-diary-of-a-chambermaid","book-the-idiot","book-the-magic-mountain","book-three-floors-up"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a4Q","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Untitled-design-40.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277068","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/17066"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=277068"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277068\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/277128"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=277068"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=277068"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=277068"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":277073,"date":"2026-09-16T10:00:36","date_gmt":"2026-09-16T14:00:36","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=277073"},"modified":"2026-09-16T10:02:38","modified_gmt":"2026-09-16T14:02:38","slug":"heres-the-longlist-for-the-2026-national-book-award-for-poetry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/heres-the-longlist-for-the-2026-national-book-award-for-poetry\/","title":{"rendered":"Here\u2019s the longlist for the 2026 National Book Award for Poetry."},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Today, the <a class=\"external\" href=\"https:\/\/www.nationalbook.org\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">National Book Foundation<\/a> announced the longlist for the 2026 National Book Award for Poetry. These ten titles were selected from a pool of 285 books submitted for consideration by their publishers. This year\u2019s judges for Poetry are Rob Arnold, Aracelis Girmay (Chair), Jon Pineda, Roger Reeves, and Rosanna Warren.<\/p>\n<p>The finalists in all categories will be announced on Tuesday, October 6, and the winners revealed at the 77th National Book Awards Ceremony on November 18.<\/p>\n<p>In the meantime, here\u2019s the 2026 Poetry longlist:<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Victoria Chang, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780374614362\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Tree of Knowledge<\/a><\/em><\/strong><br \/>\nFarrar, Straus and Giroux \/ Macmillan Publishers<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Carolina Ebeid, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781644453773\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Hide<\/a><\/em><\/strong><br \/>\nGraywolf Press<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Brenda Hillman, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780819502414\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Still House in the Desert: An eco-contemplation<\/a><\/em><\/strong><br \/>\nWesleyan University Press<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Richie Hofmann, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780593804742\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">The Bronze Arms<\/a><\/em><\/strong><br \/>\nKnopf \/ Penguin Random House<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Fady Joudah, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781639551989\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Exhibit G: Poems, Essays, and Photographs of Gaza<\/a><\/em><\/strong><br \/>\nMilkweed Editions<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Layli Long Soldier, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781644454176\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">We<\/a><\/em><\/strong><br \/>\nGraywolf Press<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Jonah Mixon-Webster, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780593803066\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Promise\/Threat<\/a><\/em><\/strong><br \/>\nKnopf \/ Penguin Random House<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Jake Rose, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780226848235\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">JOAN<\/a><\/em><\/strong><br \/>\nUniversity of Chicago Press<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Jake Skeets, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781639551521\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Horses<\/a><\/em><\/strong><br \/>\nMilkweed Editions<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Susan Stewart, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780226847467\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Bramble<\/a><\/em><\/strong><br \/>\nUniversity of Chicago Press<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Today, the National Book Foundation announced the longlist for the 2026 National Book Award for Poetry. These ten titles were selected from a pool of 285 books submitted for consideration by their publishers. This year\u2019s judges for Poetry are Rob<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":74,"featured_media":277074,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43201,43092,43646],"tags":[112283,4503,90320,212],"class_list":["post-277073","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-news-newsandculture","category-newsandculture","category-the-hub","tag-2026-national-book-awards","tag-national-book-awards","tag-national-book-awards-longlist","tag-poetry"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a4V","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/nba-longlist-poetry.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277073","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/74"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=277073"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277073\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/277074"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=277073"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=277073"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=277073"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":277091,"date":"2026-09-16T09:11:33","date_gmt":"2026-09-16T13:11:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=277091"},"modified":"2026-09-16T09:29:16","modified_gmt":"2026-09-16T13:29:16","slug":"attention-lbj-nerds-robert-caro-is-posting-book-updates-on-instagram","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/attention-lbj-nerds-robert-caro-is-posting-book-updates-on-instagram\/","title":{"rendered":"Attention LBJ nerds: Robert Caro is posting book updates on Instagram."},"content":{"rendered":"<p>As Lit Hub\u2019s resident Caro-head, I\u2019m committed to bringing you regular updates on the historian\u2019s progress on his Years of Lyndon Johnson series (searching <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?s=folta+caro\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">\u201cFolta Caro\u201d on Lit Hub<\/a> turns up more results than I remember). And if on Monday night you heard the sound of many nerds simultaneously explaining something urgent to their partners, it was because we just got some new info about Caro\u2019s writing.<\/p>\n<p>The fifth book and hopefully final book in Caro\u2019s series on LBJ, America, and power is still in the works\u2014he estimated in 2011 it would only take two to three years. From interviews and stray comments, we know that he\u2019s written and then rewritten a section on the Civil Rights Movement, has completed the sections on Medicaid, and is still struggling with the Vietnam piece of LBJ\u2019s story (understandably).<\/p>\n<p>The last place I expected to hear news about book five was on Instagram. <a href=\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/p\/DdR6DXEOKod\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">@robertcaroofficial<\/a> has only posted nine times before Monday, and only reposts of interviews, trailers, and ephemera. But this week Caro posted a <a href=\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/p\/DdR6DXEOKod\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">reel from his office<\/a>, which I\u2019m sure spiked web traffic among <a href=\"https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2018\/08\/24\/style\/conan-obrien-robert-caro.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">ex-talk show hosts<\/a> and 30-somethings with strong opinions about roads.<\/p>\n<p>The video starts with Caro patting a suitcase that he says has the outline for \u201cthe rest of the book.\u201d An outline so voluminous that it has to be lugged around in a suitcase is the kind of thing that Caro fans go crazy for. Save a thought for the trees, but I simply can\u2019t get enough of seeing the amount of paper this man generates.<\/p>\n<p>Caro then points across the table to the 1,100 pages he\u2019s written \u201cso far\u201d\u2014double spaced and then marked up with pencil, classic Caro. At that length, this book is looking like it&#8217;ll be a real tote bag breaker. The rest of the transit nerds and I need to do more push-ups. If we all get swole enough, we can tear down the BQE with our bare hands.<\/p>\n<p>As much as I love to see Caro descending like Orpheus into the wicked world of posts, the man\u2019s got writing to do. To quote the comment section: \u201cFinish it Bob jfc!!! \ud83d\ude02\u201d and \u201cNo time for videos, please finish writing \u23f1\ufe0f\u201d.<\/p>\n<p>As much as I hate to hand it to the commenters, they\u2019re right.<\/p>\n<p>Meanwhile if you\u2019re a Lit Hub fan with money to burn, get in touch with me about getting a Lit Hub Caro Watch helicopter so that I can more directly monitor the situation. But I guess I\u2019d also settle for a sticker for my bike.<\/p>\n<p><em>Images from <a href=\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/p\/DdR6DXEOKod\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">@robertcaroofficial<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>As Lit Hub\u2019s resident Caro-head, I\u2019m committed to bringing you regular updates on the historian\u2019s progress on his Years of Lyndon Johnson series (searching \u201cFolta Caro\u201d on Lit Hub turns up more results than I remember). And if on Monday<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17056,"featured_media":277093,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43201,43101,43092,43095,43445,43646],"tags":[576,16718,16855,4846],"class_list":["post-277091","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-news-newsandculture","category-history","category-newsandculture","category-politics","category-technology","category-the-hub","tag-history","tag-instagram","tag-lyndon-johnson","tag-robert-caro"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a5d","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/caro-instagram.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277091","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/17056"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=277091"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277091\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/277093"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=277091"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=277091"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=277091"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":277080,"date":"2026-09-16T06:30:38","date_gmt":"2026-09-16T10:30:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=277080"},"modified":"2026-09-16T10:20:03","modified_gmt":"2026-09-16T14:20:03","slug":"lit-hub-daily-september-16-2026","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/lit-hub-daily-september-16-2026\/","title":{"rendered":"Lit Hub Daily: September 16, 2026"},"content":{"rendered":"<span class=\"caption\"> TODAY: In 1880, Alfred Noyes is born. <\/span>\n<ul>\n<li><a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/who-are-mfa-workshops-really-for\/\">Who actually benefits in an MFA workshop?<\/a> Devon Halliday explores why these spaces might need &#8220;a greater clarity of purpose.&#8221; | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/craftandcriticism\/craft-and-advice\/\">Craft<\/a><\/li>\n<li>The truth is out there! <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/what-fascination-with-ufos-reveals-about-conspiratorial-thinking-in-america\/\">What UFO fanaticism reveals about<\/a> American conspiracies. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/newsandculture\/politics\/\">Politics<\/a><\/li>\n<li>\u201cWhite supremacy welcomed his rage, and that made it irresistible.\u201d <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/in-prison-white-supremacist-literature-is-required-reading\/\">How white supremacist literature spreads in prisons<\/a>. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/craftandcriticism\/literary-criticism\/\">Criticism<\/a><\/li>\n<li>Having a body is both horrific and amazing! <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/embodied-unbodied-and-the-body-destroyed-five-books-about-the-body\/\">Lydia Mathis recommends books about the body<\/a> by Justin Torres, Jesmyn Ward, Sarah Gailey, and more. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/readinglists\/\">Reading Lists<\/a><\/li>\n<li><span class=\"byline\">Abdelrahman ElGendy on <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/how-an-egyptian-prison-poem-came-to-structure-my-memoir\/\">the Egyptian prison poem that gave his memoir structure<\/a>. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/newsandculture\/memoir\/\">Memoir<\/a><\/span><\/li>\n<li>Vikram Chandra revisits his book, <em>Geek Sublime: The Beauty of Code, The Code of Beauty<\/em>, <a href=\"http:\/\/lithub.com\/revisiting-vikram-chandras-ode-to-the-art-of-human-coding-in-the-age-of-ai\">and considers human coding in the age of AI<\/a> in conversation with Tobias Carroll. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/craftandcriticism\/in-conversation\/\">In Conversation<\/a><\/li>\n<li>David Gessner <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-movie-star-and-the-mountain-on-robert-redfords-sundance-origin-story\/\">remembers Robert Redford, movie star and conservationist<\/a>, a year after his death. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/newsandculture\/biography\/\">Biography<\/a><\/li>\n<li><a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/anna-holmes-on-why-no-is-the-most-powerful-word-a-woman-can-say-today\/\">On the power of saying &#8220;no&#8221; as a woman<\/a>: &#8220;The fact is, however, that for many of us, saying &#8216;yes&#8217; is the easy part.&#8221; | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/newsandculture\/politics\/\">Politics<\/a><\/li>\n<li>&#8220;The dentist\u2019s quote for the surgery was between two and four thousand dollars.&#8221; Read from <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/fallow\/\">Sarah Anderson&#8217;s debut novel, <em>Fallow<\/em><\/a>. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/fictionandpoetry\/from-the-novel\/\">Fiction<\/a><\/li>\n<li>\u201cA child can look intensely engaged while being given very little time to think.\u201d <a href=\"https:\/\/aeon.co\/essays\/its-not-just-screen-time-kids-are-bombarded-by-hectic-media\">Natalia Kucirkova considers the empty chaos of children\u2019s media<\/a>. | Aeon<\/li>\n<li>Gabe Bullard explores <a href=\"https:\/\/longreads.com\/2026\/09\/15\/convenience-friction-eating-alone\/\">the cost of our hunger for frictionless food<\/a>. | LongreadsEmma Claire Foley remembers <a href=\"https:\/\/thebaffler.com\/latest\/carlo-ginzburg-1939-2026-foley\">late writer and historian Carol Ginzburg<\/a>. | The Baffler<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"https:\/\/thewalrus.ca\/wattpad-corporate\/\">When was the last time you checked in on Wattpad?<\/a> If the answer\u2019s \u201cnot in this decade,\u201d you might want to catch up. | The Walrus<\/li>\n<li>D.D. Guttenplan on why <a href=\"https:\/\/www.thenation.com\/article\/culture\/edward-said-documentary-palestine\/\">a new documentary about Edward Said<\/a> offers a \u201csuperb introduction.\u201d | The Nation<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"https:\/\/www.wired.com\/story\/the-big-interview-podcast-emily-st-john-mandel-exit-party\/\">Emily St. John Mandel tells Katie Drummond about<\/a> being bad at elevator pitches, counter lives, and <i>Exit Party.<\/i> | Wired<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Who actually benefits in an MFA workshop? Devon Halliday explores why these spaces might need &#8220;a greater clarity of purpose.&#8221; | Lit Hub Craft The truth is out there! What UFO fanaticism reveals about American conspiracies. | Lit Hub Politics<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":61,"featured_media":277099,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[45236],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-277080","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lit-hub-daily"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a52","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/AlfredNoyes.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277080","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/61"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=277080"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277080\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/277099"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=277080"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=277080"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=277080"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":275918,"date":"2026-09-16T05:34:24","date_gmt":"2026-09-16T09:34:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=275918"},"modified":"2026-09-13T21:36:19","modified_gmt":"2026-09-14T01:36:19","slug":"fallow","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/fallow\/","title":{"rendered":"Fallow"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>The dentist\u2019s quote for the surgery was between two and four thousand dollars. \u201cI\u2019m sorry I can\u2019t be more precise,\u201d he said, \u201cbut I can\u2019t really know until we get in there.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It wasn\u2019t a life-ruining amount. It wasn\u2019t going to sink me. But it was going to be really fucking annoying. My credit cards were maxed out from my oldest sister Mia\u2019s bachelorette party six months earlier, and after rent and utilities, the eight hundred dollars left of my monthly income went to food, happy hours, and the minimum fifty-dollar payment toward my fifty-three thousand dollars in student loans.<\/p>\n<p>The first person I called was Libby.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey,\u201d she said. \u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d I could hear the drone of the call center behind her and felt a near physical relief at not being there.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow long does it take to make money off OnlyFans?\u201d Two weeks earlier she had seen a TikTok about it and spent her lunch break running numbers on a Subway napkin.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStarting cold? Probably . . . three, four months?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMonths?\u201d My mouth gave a throb of protest.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah. To pick your niche, build your audience, figure out an engagement strategy. Oh, and make the content. Three posts a day? Maybe more?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I definitely didn\u2019t have the time or energy for that. \u201cThat sounds like . . . a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt is. I\u2019ve switched my research focus to sugar-daddy sites.\u201d I heard another voice in the background, calling her name. \u201cI have to go,\u201d she said. \u201cYou\u2019re so lucky you\u2019re off today. 7-Eleven rolled out a new sexual harassment training with our number. It\u2019s chaos.\u201d The line went dead.<\/p>\n<p>The second thing I tried was calling my mother.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHi, sweetie,\u201d she said, and I could tell from her voice that she\u2019d picked up without checking the name on the screen, that she knew I was one of her children but not exactly which one. Lucky for her, she didn\u2019t need to know in order to decline my request.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou know I wish I could help,\u201d she said. \u201cBut Sydney and Evie both still need braces.\u201d I knew Sydney and Evie only in the broadest of terms, as they were both barely ambulatory when I left home for college, but in that moment I felt a tenderness toward them, teeth as our familial cross to bear.<\/p>\n<p>And that was when I remembered something Phoebe had told me at Christmas. I was always next to her at holidays because my mother made us sit by birth order, even though we told her it was weird and sister-wifey. Phoebe was the sister I was closest to growing up, until she left for college and my sister Elise filled the role. It wasn\u2019t until recently, when Phoebe moved to the city, that we\u2019d regained our footing.<\/p>\n<p>I had been tuning Phoebe out, primarily focused on stopping the gravy from breaching the mashed potato wall on my plate, when I heard her say, \u201cSo yeah. If you\u2019re ever interested in some fast cash, I can hook you up.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAt the blood bank,\u201d she said, dumping salt onto a piece of Honey Baked Ham. \u201cYou can make a lot. Especially during your first month.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey pay you for your blood?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFor the plasma,\u201d she said. \u201cFun fact: it\u2019s actually one of America\u2019s largest exports. More than <em>soybeans<\/em>, even.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere\u2019s only a few other countries that\u2019s legal in. Anyway, like I was saying, I do have one coworker who sucks, but still, it really is a great job.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>All the things Phoebe loved about the blood bank seemed heavily influenced by the fact that she had spent the previous three years on the night shift at a hospital. The blood bank got a lot of natural light, she said, and was very social. Everyone there was conscious, for the most part. And there were no curtains between the beds so people talked to each other. <em>Really <\/em>talked to each other. She had already made a friend, a regular donor in the midst of a bitter divorce who paid her to chauffeur an Italian greyhound named Brett biweekly between her and her ex-wife. \u201cSo I coordinate with Dana for drop-off on Wednesdays and she gives me his bag and leash and collar, and he sits in the front seat with me, and then I just\u00a0\u00a0 drop him off. He gets really excited, and I\u2019m like, \u2018Brett, buddy, this is a weird situation.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Occasionally someone overhydrated and peed their pants during a donation (\u201cMore often than you\u2019d think, actually\u201d), but that was no biggie, compared to what went down in the hospital overnight. Sundowning dementia patients swiping at her tits as she adjusted their pillows. Existential loneliness. Ghosts.<\/p>\n<p>Across from us, the twins were buried in the iPad I had never been allowed to have and Evie was mixing gravy and butter into a paste on her plate and eating it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou have to come,\u201d Phoebe finished, like the blood bank was a hot new restaurant-bar. \u201cYou\u2019re going to love it there.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p>Outside the dentist\u2019s office, I typed \u201cblood plasma how much make\u201d into Google, which claimed that everyone was doing it (or at least \u201calmost 8 percent of the adult US population\u201d), and you could get up to eight hundred dollars in your first month. I only had to be over eighteen years old and more than 110 pounds.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, r u at the blood bank?\u201d I texted Phoebe. \u201cCan i come for the plasma thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Phoebe responded less than five minutes later, \u201cyeah come whenever!\u201d then, \u201cgood incentives this month due to shortage,\u201d plus a pin of her current location.<\/p>\n<p>I called an Uber, even though I was financially in no position to do so. Despite an exterior that left something to be desired, the blood bank was nice on the inside, more dermatologist than dialysis center on the spectrum of medical establishments. The seats in reception were cushioned and the floors carpeted, a bold move, I felt, given the industry. The woman behind the desk told me that Phoebe was busy and I was handed off to Nurse Alma, a woman with large teeth and an adult barrette. She walked me down a long corridor and into a curtainless room full of the reclining chairs that Phoebe had been raving about. I had to admit she was right. I was already having fun. From start to finish, Alma was gassing me up.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAmazing,\u201d she said at my lack of tattoos and international travel. \u201cReally prominent veins, honey,\u201d she said as she slipped the needle into the most private part of my arm.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSuch a good bleeder,\u201d she said, watching my blood zip through the tubing of the weird blood-separating machine.<\/p>\n<p>Even the dull ache of the needle wasn\u2019t entirely unpleasant, more like the nagging feeling of something in my teeth, or needing to sneeze. An anticipation of release.<\/p>\n<p>While we both bled, the rail-thin woman on the cot next to mine turned to face me. \u201cThis isn\u2019t that bad,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d I agreed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was really worried I wouldn\u2019t meet the weight requirement,\u201d she said. Because we were lying down, it felt like a sleepover.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMe too,\u201d I said, daring her to call me on it.<\/p>\n<p>It wasn\u2019t until nearly twenty minutes later that we both started shaking, which Alma assured us was perfectly normal as the cooled blood and the saline mixture reentered us. It aggravated my mouth pain, but I didn\u2019t want to tell her about it in case it interfered with the donation. \u201cYou\u2019re doing so great,\u201d she said, draping a thin blue blanket over me. \u201cA real trouper.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>A little over two hours later, I left the blood bank with fifty dollars, a renewed sense of confidence, and a snack it would almost certainly be too painful to eat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll be back,\u201d I assured Phoebe, Nurse Alma, and the thin woman. \u201cGood luck, honey,\u201d Alma called to me on my way out the door.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWith what?\u201d I asked, but no one answered.<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p>I returned to the blood bank after the required forty-eight-hour recovery period to donate again and get a seventy-five-dollar bonus. This time Phoebe was free, so she stuck me herself. She had the same bedside manner as when I was five and she was seven and she gave me \u201cvaccines\u201d with the lead of a mechanical pencil.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAren\u2019t you going to tell me I\u2019m a good bleeder?\u201d I asked. She shrugged and told me she\u2019d seen better. I silently vowed to request Nurse Alma the next time as she glanced down at her phone and frowned, holding it various distances from her face, trying to unlock the message previews.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThese bitches need to stop texting me at work,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy roommates.\u201d She put on the same breathy, syrupy voice she used to imitate our mother. \u201c\u2018Hey, friends, quick q\u2014I was wondering, how often are we changing the Brita filter?\u2019 <em>We<\/em> are changing it never. <em>You<\/em> can buy a damn filter and put it in if you care so much. I\u2019m too busy buying hand soap so they don\u2019t just water that shit down.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I settled back in the chair. At some point, listening to Phoebe complain about other people had become like ASMR for me. \u201cPaul does that too. And it\u2019s literally flu season.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re still living with that guy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYup,\u201d I said, my voice sounding more irritated than I\u2019d wanted it to. \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNothing. I told Mom I thought you had a new roommate. I thought you told me that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, I didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay. Sorry.\u201d Phoebe glanced back down at her phone, then stuffed it into the pocket of her scrubs. \u201cShe was just asking about you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhen did you talk to Mom?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLast week. She called on my birthday, but she didn\u2019t know it was my birthday.\u201d I, too, had forgotten this.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShit, Phoebe, sorry. I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s fine\u2014that\u2019s not the point. Anyway, she was in one of her reflective moods and she said this thing about how she worried about you the most. Out of all her adult kids.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Part of me felt a little thrill at hearing this. The other part felt defensive. Our mother wasn\u2019t the type to ask after people. \u201cIf you need me, you know where to find me,\u201d she always said, which was true, except that finding her and getting her attention were two entirely different things.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy did she say that? What is she worried about?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Phoebe laughed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI mean, you were an intense kid. She\u2019s probably just thinking about that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo I wasn\u2019t. What does that mean?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, you\u2019ve just always had a hard time making friends. And there was that thing where you were weird with the dog.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat are you talking about? Why would you say it like that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPepper. You were obsessed with Pepper.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo were you! So was Mia! That\u2019s the whole point of dogs!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUhhh, yeah . . . but you were <em>weirdly<\/em> obsessed with her. You would, like, lie on the floor and whisper in her ears and get jealous when other people petted her. And you told everyone you were dating. You told your pediatrician that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGive me one example outside of loving our dog.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She thought for a minute. \u201cThe Oreo incident?\u201d She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. \u201cAt school? When you told everyone that we were too poor to have Oreos at home?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was five!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMore like eight.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere\u2019s no way I said \u2018too poor.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou did. Mom was so mad.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was a child! And I was right\u2014we never had snacks. You and Mia ate them all.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m just saying, Mom still thinks of us as how we were as kids, so that\u2019s probably why she said that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou literally had a years-long klepto phase.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah for, like, a tinted ChapStick from the Walmart, not manipulating other second graders through fake poverty. Anyway, Mom just said something about how she hopes you \u2018find your path.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The machine next to me beeped quietly. My blood looked strangely thick running through the tubes, more syrup than water.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d I said. \u201cI don\u2019t need a path. I have a path. I just need money.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, that\u2019s what I told her.\u201d She busied herself checking on the machine and the bag. \u201cOkay, I\u2019ll come check on you in ten,\u201d she said, and left.<\/p>\n<p>The version of me that Phoebe had described stung a little. I couldn\u2019t decide if it was more of a revision or an exposure. But just as I was riling myself up, starting to spiral, Nurse Alma walked by.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re back!\u201d she said, smiling broadly. She was wearing a barrette with a felt strawberry attached.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSecond donation bonus! Wouldn\u2019t miss it.\u201d I lowered my voice. \u201cBetween us? Phoebe could use some work on her technique. It was at least twice as painful. So if you\u2019re here when I come back next week\u00a0 \u201d<\/p>\n<p>She laughed. \u201cI\u2019ll see what I can do. You\u2019re going to be a regular, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFor now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe love our regulars. Did your sister give you the recruitment spiel?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cShe did not.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe might not have seen the email yet. We\u2019re discussing it at the next staff meeting. We\u2019re partnering with this company\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 They\u2019re looking for people to be part of a study or something. It seemed like a neat opportunity. And it pays. Better than this, I think.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSign me up.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGive me a couple minutes\u2014I have to finish a few things and then I\u2019ll bring you the flyer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I spent the remaining time squeezing my fingers into a fist, shivering violently as the cold crept through me, distracting myself from the mouth pain by thinking about ways my other sisters had fucked up, ways they were actually the ones we should all be worried about.<\/p>\n<p>Phoebe reappeared forty minutes later and peered down at the bag. \u201cDone.\u201d She unceremoniously yanked the needle from my arm, slapping down a piece of gauze.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOw,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re fine,\u201d she said, and left.<\/p>\n<p>I was in the observation area agonizing over the decision between Chips Ahoy! and mini pretzels, things I could dissolve in my mouth without chewing, when the thin woman from the last time appeared. She didn\u2019t hesitate to select three Nutter Butters and some fruit snacks, as if the laminated take one, please signs posted at six-inch intervals along the table were meant to be read as encouragements instead of restrictions. She packed it all carefully into a purse made of wicker, then started in on a bag of Cheez-Its. I tucked the Chips Ahoy! under my arm and reached for the pretzels. I could at least suck the salt crystals off. At the sound of Alma\u2019s voice behind me, I jumped and dropped the second bag back onto the table.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHere, hon,\u201d she said, handing me a flyer. \u201cThe information\u2019s all here. And go ahead and take two of those. You look a little pale.\u201d She winked. The flyer was printed on expensive paper, the thick kind I had only ever seen used for my rich cousin\u2019s wedding invitation, and it emitted its own strange light. The paper had charisma. Across the top was written, \u201cGENEROUS SALARY WITH BENEFITS,\u201d all caps, and beneath it, \u201cContact for more information.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d The thin woman was next to me now, munching and peering over my shoulder. \u201cIs that about aftercare?\u201d She squinted. \u201c\u2018Generous salary\u2019 . . . I like the sound of that.\u201d She took it from my hand then, so confidently it didn\u2019t even occur to me to protest. We both read silently for a moment, arriving at the Requirements section at the same time: \u201chealthy lifestyle,\u201d \u201cbirthing hips,\u201d \u201cdiscretion.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>We sized each other up, and I felt things between us cool as I came out on top. My hips and thighs have always been the bane of my existence, thick and unbothered by any amount of exercise or diet.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, can I have this?\u201d the woman asked. \u201cAre you going to use it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I yanked it back with the same confidence she had used to take it from me.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m using it. You have to ask. You have to ask one of the nurses to give you one. If you meet the requirements.\u201d The woman stalked off in search of an employee\u2014I hoped my sister\u2014and I headed for the double doors.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood luck,\u201d Nurse Alma called from behind me as I passed by her through reception, and this time I was grateful.<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p>At home, Paul was in his usual spot on the couch. It was freezing inside the apartment.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey,\u201d he said. \u201cLong story short, I accidentally melted a Tupperware lid on one of the burners. I opened all the windows but it still smells kind of chemical, so maybe give it another hour before going in there.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCool,\u201d I said. \u201cThanks.\u201d I shut the door of my room, took the flyer out of my bag, and climbed under the covers of my unmade twin bed. It took three tries to open the \u201cQuick Apply\u201d QR code with my phone, but finally the digital square appeared and I was redirected.<\/p>\n<p>The website was the online equivalent of expensive paper. It had one of those layouts with only a home page that doesn\u2019t tell you what it\u2019s actually about, just the words \u201cWe create opportunity\u201d written across the center. At the bottom\u2014in a clean, elegant font\u2014were hyperlinks to About, Careers, and Contact. When I clicked About, it looped back to the home page: \u201cWe create opportunity.\u201d When I clicked Careers, a new window opened. It was a simple application asking for my name, contact information, age, current height and weight, a recent full-body photo, and ten questions:<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">1. Do you have any chronic health conditions?<br \/>\n2. Do you drink alcohol?<br \/>\n3. Do you take any prescription medications?<br \/>\n4. Do you have any tattoos?<br \/>\n5. Do you cohabitate with cats?<br \/>\n6. Do you currently have a romantic partner and\/or close family ties?<br \/>\n7. Do you currently have or plan to have children?<br \/>\n8. Have you ever had an abortion?<br \/>\n9. Have you ever had a caesarean delivery?<br \/>\n10. Have you ever had a miscarriage?<\/p>\n<p>No, no, no, no, no, no, no, I clicked confidently. I did drink alcohol, but I sensed this was not the answer they were seeking. I paused at number eight. In the years since it happened, I always thought of it with a \u201cThe,\u201d like those people you always call by both first and last name. The Abortion. Al Gore. It was something that didn\u2019t need to be disclosed to a potential buyer. Like a house where someone had died in one of the bedrooms. No, no, no, I clicked. Done.<\/p>\n<p>I attached a headshot Mia had taken of me in our backyard a few years back when she insisted on making me a LinkedIn. In the photo, I looked confident and svelte. When I pressed Submit, a message appeared: <em>Thank you for your interest. If<\/em> <em>you might be a fit, someone from our <\/em><em>team will reach out.<\/em><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\" style=\"text-align: center;\">__________________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>From <\/em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780374621148\">Fallow<\/a> <em>by Sarah Anderson. Published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Copyright \u00a9 2026 by Sarah Anderson. All rights reserved.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The dentist\u2019s quote for the surgery was between two and four thousand dollars. \u201cI\u2019m sorry I can\u2019t be more precise,\u201d he said, \u201cbut I can\u2019t really know until we get in there.\u201d It wasn\u2019t a life-ruining amount. It wasn\u2019t going<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":63,"featured_media":275920,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[25508,3,43074,43076,26764],"tags":[111869,6547,111870],"class_list":["post-275918","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-daily-fiction","category-excerpts","category-fictionandpoetry","category-from-the-novel","category-novels","tag-fallow","tag-farrar-straus-and-giroux","tag-sarah-anderson","story-type-daily-fiction"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s5rKFr-fallow","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/9780374621148-scaled.avif","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/275918","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/63"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=275918"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/275918\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/275920"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=275918"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=275918"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=275918"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276983,"date":"2026-09-16T05:10:36","date_gmt":"2026-09-16T09:10:36","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276983"},"modified":"2026-09-15T21:13:11","modified_gmt":"2026-09-16T01:13:11","slug":"the-movie-star-and-the-mountain-on-robert-redfords-sundance-origin-story","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-movie-star-and-the-mountain-on-robert-redfords-sundance-origin-story\/","title":{"rendered":"The Movie Star and the Mountain: On Robert Redford\u2019s Sundance Origin Story"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>I.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The first time he sees it, a chord is struck inside him. He is overcome by a kind of excitement he has no words for.<\/p>\n<p>The mountain looms above him. Sheer rock walls rise, snow-covered up top with patches of limestone shining out. Nearly twelve thousand feet above sea level\u201411,752 to be exact\u2014but, more importantly, seven thousand feet above where the young man stands and stares. Soon he is not just staring. He is and always will be a creature of movement and before he knows it his feet are taking the lead, rushing forward, climbing upward, wanting to somehow create an intimacy with this giant. He cuts through a meadow of sage and sumac and finds himself in a field below a wall of rock that blazes with aspen, a yellow closing in on orange. He is hiking faster now, almost running.<\/p>\n<p>He stops and watches cloud shadows migrate across the mountain\u2019s face. His mood lifts with the land. He notices movement in the rock wall and as he gets closer he sees it for what it is. Flowing water. A constant torrent and spray down the rock\u2019s cleavage, splattering below. He stares at the various shelves which the water is flowing over and falling off of and dropping down from, trying to memorize the sight. The white rock is stained orange where it is forever wet. He listens to the pure cold music of falling water. When his head is down while hiking its song is a steady almost industrial roar, but with his head up it takes on a higher pitch.<\/p>\n<p>He will discover that the mountain is called Timpanogos and that people of that name lived nearby five hundred years ago. The name means, roughly, \u201crock\u201d or maybe \u201criver\u201d or, in some translations, the combined \u201crock river\u201d or \u201crocky torrent.\u201d Soon enough he will learn the meaning of the word, but it will take a while to understand what Timpanogos will mean to him. How can he know? His life is spread out uncertainly before him. He feels some vague intuition that this place will be important but nothing more.<\/p>\n<p>All the confusion and anger he has been feeling vanishes for the moment. A silly idea comes into his head. Life suddenly feels larger. The smallness he has known, back in L.A. where his silent, judging father sits, washes away. All the uncertainty of his year of college in Boulder, the disdain for school, the drinking, the lack of direction, the early attempts to make art. His natural restlessness quiets.<\/p>\n<p>At the same time he feels a twinge. The beginnings of that old covetous human urge. To possess the place. To make it <em>his<\/em>. Then, a second later, a better impulse. To stand below its beauty. Just beauty, not for any purpose. It isn\u2019t awe exactly, that easy word that often means nothing. It is being absorbed in something larger than himself. Something thrilling and wild, jarring and huge. This is a moment that he will remember. A moment that will change his life.<\/p>\n<p>He has found this place accidentally, while driving home to L.A. from the University of Colorado. He will later say: \u201cIt was so beautiful that I couldn\u2019t pull myself away. The mountain, Timpanogos, was to me like Everest. It was Yosemite on a different scale. Spiritually, it was fascinating. When I left, I couldn\u2019t shake it off. I lay in bed and thought about it. And whenever I had the chance to go back, I did. It became my favorite long shortcut, the only way to go home. I have a clear recollection of thinking,<em> Someday I\u2019d like to put a stake down here<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The year is 1954 and the young man\u2019s name is Robert Redford, and he will put that stake down a few years later when he pays $500 for two acres in the shadow of the mountain.<\/p>\n<p><strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>II.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Sixty-two years later, in December of 2016, I was the invited to do a reading at Sundance. Actually, the whole family was invited and my wife Nina, my daughter Hadley and I were thrilled to be there. The word was that Robert Redford would be there but despite the fact he did not show up it was a great week.<\/p>\n<p>There was something in the air at Sundance. Though Redford was absent the whole place was permeated by his presence, a celebrity buzz alive in every corner. The aura of Bob. In the evenings Nina and I retreated to the Owl Bar after our days of skiing. The actual bar, which had been built in the 1890s, had been moved to <em>Sundance<\/em> from Thermopolis, Wyoming, where it was purported to have once been frequented by Butch Cassidy. The bartender told me Bob\u2019s drink was tequila, so tequila it was.<\/p>\n<p>I wish I could remember the bartender\u2019s name. One night I came in alone, and the place was empty except for him. I started talking and told him my story, bragging a little about why I was there and telling him how Robert Redford had called me out of the blue to say some nice things about a book I had written. The bartender yawned. He seemed decidedly unimpressed by my conversation with Bob. He\u2019d had many. Old hat for him.<\/p>\n<p>Then he told me the story of how Bob first found Sundance. I had heard other versions of the same story that week, from Chad, the manager of Sundance at the time, and from one of the women who came up to me after my reading in the Tree Room. Either way it seemed as much a part of the place as the crags of limestone that jutted out of the snow on Mount Timpanogos. I recognized it for what it was.<\/p>\n<p>An origin story.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>III.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><em>It <\/em>happened one afternoon driving home from college. Since he was born in L.A., Redford did not live out the clich\u00e9 of the easterner finding a new life in the West, a trope that he would bring to vivid life in <em>Jeremiah Johnson<\/em>, where an Easterner heads into the Rockies to become a mountain man, but he did make his great discovery while driving west, on the way home from the University of Colorado. Nearing Salt Lake City, he turned off the main road and wandered, basically following an impulse\u2014an impulse that, it turned out, would change everything.<\/p>\n<p>When he first saw it, a primitive ski resort, Timp Haven, occupied the spot he would later rename Sundance. From the start this was a place of strange coincidences, and Redford would soon learn that Timp Haven, and the land around it, was owned by the family of Omer Stewart, the same Omer Stewart who was one of the only professors who inspired him back at the University of Colorado. Then there was this: a few years later he would meet his wife Lola Van Wagenen when they both moved into the same apartment building in L.A. It would turn out she was from Provo, just down the canyon from the magical place he had stumbled upon.<\/p>\n<p>The writer Ed Abbey, who Redford would later hike and camp with, wrote of first seeing the Rockies that it was an \u201cimpossible beauty, like a boy\u2019s first sight of an undressed girl, the image of those mountains struck a fundamental chord in my imagination that has sounded ever since.\u201d That, or something close, was the chord Timpanogos struck in Redford. It lingered like a dream of an alternate life as he flunked out of CU, reeled after his mother\u2019s death, eloped with Lola, and endured the crib death of Scott, their first child, at two months.<\/p>\n<p>The vision seemed to recede, out of reach, as he found some early success with small and then larger TV parts, but, using money he\u2019d earned from his still fledgling acting career, he put down the $500 for two acres below Mount Timpanogos. At the time the only building on the lot was a dilapidated chicken coop, but it was a start.<\/p>\n<p>As the struggling young actor tried to make it in New York and L.A., the land waited for him back in Utah. By then his daughter Shauna had been born, but it was the premature birth of his son, David James, that turned his world upside down. Both Lola and Jamie, as they called him, almost died during the birth, and this led to a deeper questioning, an internal wrestling match between career and family. After a period of soul-searching that included a ninety-mile November walk along the steep coastal woods of Big Sur, he came to a decision. His life was too scattered, too strewn about. He wanted to make a home for his growing family. And he knew just where he wanted to make it.<\/p>\n<p>But it was then, after he had made his decision and resolved to go back and build a house on the plot below Timp, that a pot of gold was offered. <em>The honeypot<\/em>, he later called it. His agent phoned, excited to tell him that Bing Crosby Productions had offered him the lead in a new summer TV show, <em>Breaking Point<\/em>. This could be it! The big time. The break he\u2019d been waiting for. Money troubles had plagued him and Lola during those early years, and now he was suddenly being offered $3,750 a week. $3,750 a week!<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">Nearing Salt Lake City, he turned off the main road and wandered, basically following an impulse\u2014an impulse that, it turned out, would change everything.<\/p>\n<p>He would always be, like his Sundance character, a man who did better on the move. But if he was eternally restless, in Sundance he would find a place where he, at least sometimes, quieted, a place where, to paraphrase the late writer Wendell Berry, he would find both his shadow and reflection. If that sounds mystical, so be it. It <em>was<\/em> mystical. Or at least it felt that way to Redford.<\/p>\n<p>And it, the place, conferred a certain power.<\/p>\n<p>Consider:<\/p>\n<p>He said no to the offer of $3,750 a week.<\/p>\n<p>He said no when they upped it to an unheard of $6,000 a week.<\/p>\n<p>Then, after another walkabout and a night of brooding on a Malibu beach, he said no when they made their final offer of $10,000 a week. Remember this was a time when he was still struggling and money was tight, and ten-thousand dollars in 1963 was the equivalent of over a hundred thousand dollars today. There had been no hit movies and there was no promise there would be. His agent, mystified, quit outright. Robert Redford, he decided, must be insane. As for Redford, he turned his back on L.A. and headed to Utah.<\/p>\n<p>His agent was not alone as far as being mystified. There were people in those early years who thought Redford was too stubborn, too angry. Maybe. And maybe it was crazy to say no at a time when he had debts and his future was far from certain.<\/p>\n<p>I don\u2019t know how or why he said no to the money, money he desperately needed. But he did.<\/p>\n<p>And the payoff?<\/p>\n<p>The payoff came in the days of peace and exertion\u2014&#8221;soul work\u201d he called it\u2014looking up at the mountain as he built his new home in the canyon. He worked alongside a local builder and the builder\u2019s son, planning out the house himself. He lost weight, his hair grew long and shaggy, his beard filled in. Not unlike one of the most famous characters he would later play, he retreated from the so-called real world.<\/p>\n<p>The house would not be just a house. It would be both a refuge and a work of art, inspired by Frank Llyod Wright\u2019s organic architecture, an A-frame, actually a series of As, built with local wood and rock with windows that stared up at Mount Timpanogos.<\/p>\n<p>Looking back at that exultant time, he later said:<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe had moose and deer, a mountain lion, bald eagles, every sort of wilderness creature\u2014but no running water. When the winter snows came we boiled water to cook and bathe with.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Offers came in for films. He ignored them. His beard grew longer. He was in full retreat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe house is GREAT,\u201d he would write soon after the A-frame was completed. \u201cA three-level affair with exposed 8 panels of glass and 48 tons of rock work, it\u2019s 45 miles from the nearest town and 8,000 feet up. The view is something, overlooking the back of a huge mountain peak and a year-round glacier. The hunting is the best and small game abounds. The streams are rich with rainbow trout.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Over the next decades the place would continue to co-evolve with his personal and professional life\u2014he would buy more and more acreage, he would fight with developers who wanted to build condos in the canyon, finally in 1981 he would form the Sundance Institute\u2014but this was when it truly began, the initial commitment. \u201cThe first flush of rootedness is unrepeatable,\u201d said the nature writer Robert Finch. Redford was rooting down and this was his first flush.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>IV.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>When people spoke of \u201cSundance\u201d they often meant the big festival that until this coming year was held in Park City, Utah. But for Redford Sundance was the relatively small ski resort below Mount Timpanogos, forty-five minutes down the road in Provo Canyon.<\/p>\n<p>The story of his finding the place would be told and re-told over the years, and details would get fuzzy with people re-telling it in different ways. Redford himself would tell the story when the directors made the drive down from Park City each year to Sundance on the first day of the festival. There, standing in front of a stone fireplace outside the screening room, he began by saying: \u201cWhere you were wasn\u2019t Sundance\u2026 This is the<em> real<\/em> Sundance.\u201d In more recent years the honor of telling the origin story had been passed off to Chad, now president of the Sundance resort. Not long ago over lunch Chad and I discussed the fine points of the origin story\u2014was the year 1954 or 56 when he first saw the mountain, was he in a car, as Chad and I thought, or on a motorcycle, as the folks at the Sundance Institute contended?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere was so much re-telling it became a kind of myth,\u201d Chad said.<\/p>\n<p>As with any myth, this one plastered over the somewhat messier reality. Redford\u2019s retreat to the mountain to build his home was actually short-lived. When Henry David Thoreau came out of the woods, he worked as a surveyor and a handyman for Ralph Waldo Emerson. When Redford came out of the woods, he headed to Broadway. There he had his first major career breakthrough playing opposite Elizabeth Ashley in Neil Simon\u2019s <em>Barefoot in the Park<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">\u201cThe first flush of rootedness is unrepeatable,\u201d said the nature writer Robert Finch. Redford was rooting down and this was his first flush.<\/p>\n<p>As for Sundance, there would be many years of debt, disappointment, and doubt. As it grew it became a money pit. His idealism ran up against the reality of the place. Sometimes it would seem that he was making movies or taking TV roles just to fund the resort. Early on Redford\u2019s philosophy was: \u201cDo another TV show, buy another acre.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>This pattern would continue, more or less, for decades. Though after the wild success of <em>Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid<\/em>, he could substantially up the acreage.<\/p>\n<p>That movie would give his beloved fiefdom below Mount Timpanogos its new name, but would not solve Sundance\u2019s financial troubles. Redford quickly bought 3,379 more acres, and he wasn\u2019t going to stop there. There was a good reason for this: he was trying to stave off tract housing on the mountain. But some saw more than that in his ambition. A desire to own, to possess, the entire mountain. Meanwhile Sundance bled money. Soon the newly-minted superstar was spending around $300,000 a year on the property, the vast majority of his movie money going directly into funding the place.<\/p>\n<p>Again, there were inherent ironies. To make the resort viable, particularly after the much larger and higher-elevation Park City ski resort opened nearby in 1973, he had to become the very thing he abhorred: a developer. Timp Haven had been a simple rope-tow ski area but to make it profitable it had to be expanded, chairlifts and runs added, which meant clearing trees on the mountain and building more houses. To his credit, Redford tried to adhere to strict environmental standards, to make the place sustainable. But that was expensive too. Sundance was not yet close to paying for itself. It is strange to say of the most bankable movie star in the world, but at times he was strapped for cash.<\/p>\n<p>As time passed there was another obvious irony when it came to his home in Sundance: He wasn\u2019t there much.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe humans are an elsewhere,\u201d wrote the great western poet and essayist Reg Saner.<\/p>\n<p>Redford was more elsewhere than most.<\/p>\n<p>He had an apartment in New York, spent time in L.A., was on location in movie after movie. If he dreamed of settling at Sundance, he was anything but settled.<\/p>\n<p>Redford shared at least one trait with the Sundance Kid. In a famous scene in the movie, Butch and Sundance attempt to go straight, trying out as payroll guards for a mining company in Bolivia. Their employer Percy Garris (played by Strother Martin), says to Sundance &#8220;Can you hit anything?&#8221; Sundance replies, \u201cSometimes.\u201d The old-timer throws a coin up the street into the dirt and says, \u201cHit that.\u201d Sundance starts to get fancy, spinning his gun and putting it in his holster as if readying to draw when the old timer holds the gun still and says, \u201cNo, no, no, son. I just want to know, can you shoot?\u201d Sundance, now standing still and simply pointing the gun, misses his target. Garris and Butch stare at him. Butch\u2019s look says <em>this is the one thing I thought you did well and you can\u2019t do it.<\/em> More bemused than accusing.<\/p>\n<p>Garris starts to walk away, disgusted and done with them, when Sundance asks, \u201cCan I move?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMove, what the hell you mean move?\u201d Garris says.<\/p>\n<p>Suddenly Sundance dips down, crouches, draws his gun, and hits the coin twice, the second time when it is flying in the air.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m better when I move,&#8221; he says.<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s a great movie moment. It was also Redford\u2019s modus operandi. Movement was his habitual mode of being. He drove fast. He liked to jog five miles a day and played tennis constantly. His daughter Amy, for one, looked forward to the lift in energy whenever he was home at Sundance: the sports, the hikes, all the action. Mary Tyler Moore had a different take. Staying at Sundance after <em>Ordinary People<\/em> and trying to stay sober after alcoholism had almost killed her, Redford was just too much. Tennis at 9? Swimming at 11? What was next? Archery? Bob, to her, was like a crazed camp counselor, activity after activity.<\/p>\n<p>He took the same energy to the slopes. Though he had only learned to ski as an adult, and then trained and improved for <em>Downhill Racer,<\/em> he skied fast and paid for it with broken noses and collar bones. He also made movies fast. Consider the fairly ridiculous stretch, an interval of less than two years, from 1972 to 1974, when he would star in <em>Jeremiah Johnson<\/em>, <em>The Candidate<\/em>, <em>The Way We Were<\/em>, <em>The Sting<\/em> and <em>The Great Gatsby. <\/em>He even<em> acted <\/em>fast, \u201cnot wasting time\u201d as the director George Hill said. On the set of <em>All the President\u2019s Men<\/em> he grew impatient with Dustin Hoffman and Jason Robards, who loved to analyze and talk on and on about the characters and their motivation. <em>Let\u2019s get to it<\/em> was Bob\u2019s motto. At the same time, he refused to do any two takes the same way. He was after spontaneity and had an impatience with theory\u2014he liked to <em>do<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>His desire to root pushed hard against this need to move. Both desires were real. He loved his family and tried to create a dream domestic space at Sundance. But he was gone a lot. He dreamed of peace, a place away from the pestering world, and he did have moments of peace with his family and in nature. But it would be hard to describe him as serene. His characters were uneasy, and so was he.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>V.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>There are many things the young man doesn\u2019t know when he first stares up at Timpanogos. He has no inkling where his life will lead him. If you were to visit from the future and meet him on that day he sees the mountain, and tell him what was to come, he would laugh. More likely he would think you were insane.<\/p>\n<p><p class=\"pullquote\"><\/p>He dreamed of peace, a place away from the pestering world, and he did have moments of peace with his family and in nature. But it would be hard to describe him as serene. His characters were uneasy, and so was he.[\/pulquote]<\/p>\n<p>What a strange and remarkable story you could tell him. It would seem a ludicrous fiction. You could let him know he will be a father, a husband (twice), a sex symbol, a would-be cowboy, a dashing outlaw on the screen and a sometimes geeky one off. That he will rise to fame as America\u2019s most famous movie star, and one of the world\u2019s most famous people while still trying to retreat and maintain some sense of his authentic self. That his love for this place will lead to defending it, which will ripple outward to loving and defending an entire region. And that he will not just pay lip service to this fight the way many celebrities do, but do the boring work that has to be done, lobbying congressmen, sitting in meetings.<\/p>\n<p>And that is without even mentioning the Sundance Institute and Sundance Festival. He doesn\u2019t know yet that he will have the wonderful grandiose idea of creating a space, in a world of crushing commercialism, where young filmmakers can do their work protected from the jaws of the market, and then help create a showcase for that independent work, and, if that showcase will become something of a monster, embodying in ways the opposite of the spirit in which it was conceived, well, that will not take away from the initial impulse nor all the good work that will get out into the world because of it. His will be a stubborn attempt to fight back against Hollywood, and without that stubbornness none of it would have been manifested. Oh, and by the way, you might mention to him that he\u2019ll make a lot of movies, some of them damn good ones.<\/p>\n<p>When he first stands below Timpanogos, there is no way he can know the gifts the mountain will bestow upon him. You could argue that almost everything in his life would grow out of the place: Art, family, nature, activism. So much of what he will achieve will spring from this first ringing discovery, the moment when a young man who wants to be an artist, but honestly doesn\u2019t really know what he wants to be and sure as hell doesn\u2019t plan on being an actor, a young man who is still wrestling with his judgmental father, a confused young man with no idea what he would call fate and I would call accident has in store for him, looks up and sees the mountain.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I. The first time he sees it, a chord is struck inside him. He is overcome by a kind of excitement he has no words for. The mountain looms above him. Sheer rock walls rise, snow-covered up top with patches<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":8063,"featured_media":277110,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43102,6,43093,43092],"tags":[112268,59402,78592,105564,23481,8026],"class_list":["post-276983","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-biography","category-features","category-film-and-tv","category-newsandculture","tag-conservationism","tag-david-gessner","tag-in-memorium","tag-robert-redford","tag-sundance","tag-wendell-berry"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a3t","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/robert-redford.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276983","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/8063"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276983"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276983\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/277110"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276983"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276983"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276983"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":277070,"date":"2026-09-16T05:10:09","date_gmt":"2026-09-16T09:10:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=277070"},"modified":"2026-09-16T07:06:38","modified_gmt":"2026-09-16T11:06:38","slug":"revisiting-vikram-chandras-ode-to-the-art-of-human-coding-in-the-age-of-ai","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/revisiting-vikram-chandras-ode-to-the-art-of-human-coding-in-the-age-of-ai\/","title":{"rendered":"Revisiting Vikram Chandra\u2019s Ode to the Art of Human Coding in the Age of AI"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Twelve years ago, Vikram Chandra\u2019s <a href=\"https:\/\/www.graywolfpress.org\/books\/geek-sublime\"><i>Geek Sublime: The Beauty of Code, The Code of Beauty<\/i><\/a> was published. In terms of actual history, that isn\u2019t long at all; in terms of technology, it\u2019s an eternity. In <i>Geek Sublime<\/i>, Chandra drew on his experience as an author of both prose and code to explore where the two converged.<\/p>\n<p>You might not see the two as having any connection. Before reading it, I\u2014someone who had also had a foothold in both worlds for a while\u2014was unsure of how convinced I would be. But I left convinced by his argument, one that emphasized elegance and beauty in both worlds, and cited examples of precisely how that could be achieved. Chandra\u2019s book was a finalist for the National Book Critics Award for Criticism, with Anne Trubek <a href=\"https:\/\/www.bookcritics.org\/2015\/03\/07\/anne-trubek-on-vikram-chandras-geek-sublime\/\">hailing<\/a> \u201cthe subtle and revelatory scope of this book.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>While the literary world Chandra wrote about in <i>Geek Sublime<\/i> is not far removed from its counterpart in 2026, the world of coding has been transformed in seismic ways. Vibe coding\u2014using AI to generate code for online projects\u2014has become widespread, for good and for ill. (\u201cVibe Coding Is the New Open Source\u2014in the Worst Way Possible\u201d read <a href=\"https:\/\/www.wired.com\/story\/vibe-coding-is-the-new-open-source\/\">one <i>WIRED<\/i> headline<\/a>.) An <a href=\"https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2026\/02\/18\/podcasts\/the-daily\/ai-vibecoding-claude-code.html\">episode<\/a> of the <i>New York Times<\/i> podcast <i>The Daily<\/i> asked whether human coders were even necessary any more.<\/p>\n<p>What does Chandra himself think of all of this? Over the course of several weeks, we exchanged a series of emails in which I learned that he remains as concerned as ever with the aesthetics of code\u2014even as he also recognizes the changes taking place in the tech world.<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p><strong>Tobias Carroll: <\/strong>In <i>Geek Sublime<\/i>, you eloquently argued for the elegance of well-written code. Now, we seem to have entered the era of &#8220;vibe coding.&#8221; What do you make of the rise of AI-first coding, and how would you say that it has affected the principles you outlined in your book?<\/p>\n<p><strong>Vikram Chandra:<\/strong> The principles I talked about in the book are still crucial\u2014you still want your code to be elegant and easy to maintain in the long run. The problem is getting AI agents to write that kind of code. I\u2019ve only used AI to write little scripts after giving it strict instructions pointing to a list of those principles, and in the small that seems to work. I don\u2019t have any first-hand experience with large AI-written codebases, but from everything I hear\u2014even from experienced programmers\u2014is that you end up with large-scale spaghetti code if you\u2019re not very careful. I have a friend who is making steady money from reviewing and fixing that kind of slop.<\/p>\n<p>The models are all trained to help and please, and that sometimes results in them writing code that seems to work brilliantly but is a shambles internally. You still need humans to review the code.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/x.com\/VictorTaelin\/status\/2059327831679578511\">Here<\/a> is the programmer Victor Taelin:<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">I now believe using current gen AI agents in production codebase is harmful and a massive mistake. That doesn&#8217;t mean no agents at all, but agents work best when they don&#8217;t touch critical code. Debugging, researching, providing insights, scripts\/tools, or anything that doesn&#8217;t touch code you will maintain in the long term. But if you merge AI code without reading, you&#8217;re going to have a bad time. Speaking from experience.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><strong>TC:<\/strong> Has this shift in coding habits left you thinking about writing a follow-up volume?<\/p>\n<p><strong>VC:<\/strong> Things are moving too fast right now to even attempt something like that. The acceleration makes me dizzy. We\u2019ve clearly crossed some kind of event horizon, and I don\u2019t have any idea of what\u2019s coming next.<\/p>\n<p>Was there a specific moment when you realized that the event horizon had been crossed?<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019d been using other models for quite a while for research, and also to write fairly simple database queries. Then in November 2025 I observed a huge uptick of buzz about Anthropic\u2019s Opus 4.5. I tried the free plan, and within a week was paying for a Pro subscription. And a few days later I upgraded to the Max plan. I suppose that\u2019s a quantitative reflection of how useful it seemed. It one-shotted the database queries, as opposed to my having to do several rounds of prompting and correcting. And I\u2019ve been able to leverage its capabilities to speed up and deepen my research.<\/p>\n<p><strong>TC: <\/strong>Do you find yourself using AI agents for anything?<\/p>\n<p><strong>VC: <\/strong>I use AI a lot for historical research, or at least for putting together the foundations for research projects and then extending various lines. I have prompts that I tweak constantly to avoid hallucinations and I try to cross-check what the models tell me. But it\u2019s still easy to get taken in by the absolute confidence with which agents spout \u201cfacts.\u201d\u00a0 I have to actively resist getting taken in, seduced. I\u2019ve had some success by getting one LLM to fact-check another LLM.<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">We\u2019ve been using software to write software for decades, ever since the first compilers were put together to translate higher-level languages to machine code.<\/p>\n<p>But in general, for the work I do, LLMs are hugely helpful. They\u2019ve been trained over vast amounts of text, so they are able to turn up data that I wouldn\u2019t have found myself. I use Zotero, an open-source application to store my information (academic papers, web clippings, etc.), and I\u2019ve given an agent access to all the thousands of items in that store. Suddenly, finding stuff I need has become easier by orders of magnitude.<\/p>\n<p>I started experimenting with ChatGPT when it first came out in late 2022, trying to use it exactly for this kind of work. The earlier versions of all the models weren\u2019t very useful to me. And now I work with LLMs every day. This is what I mean by acceleration. I\u2019ve been using software tools since the 1980s, and I used to think that we were moving fast in terms of capabilities. I\u2019ve never seen anything like what\u2019s happening right now.<\/p>\n<p><strong>TC: <\/strong>As an observer of these changes in the tech world, do you think anything is lost by allowing software to write code for more software?<\/p>\n<p><strong>VC: <\/strong>We\u2019ve been using software to write software for decades, ever since the first compilers were put together to translate higher-level languages to machine code.<\/p>\n<p>Linus Torvalds just <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=fi29pfLcW4I&amp;list=PLbzoR-pLrL6rPXcrTJb--zHJAdYr4tHq5&amp;index=6\">pointed this out<\/a> recently: \u201cWhen I see people saying 99 percent of our code is written by AI, I literally get angry. Because those same people\u2014I can pretty much guarantee\u2014100 percent of their code is written by compilers. But they never say that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The difference now is that when you prompt an agent, you\u2019re allowing it a degree of autonomy that you wouldn\u2019t and couldn\u2019t give to a compiler earlier. The word \u201cagent\u201d itself implies this lack of deterministic control and the consequent unpredictability.<\/p>\n<p>Linus went on to say, \u201cPeople who do not understand the complexity of systems will prompt systems and write processes that will fail.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That\u2019s the potentially disastrous loss you get in exchange for productivity and scale.<\/p>\n<p><strong>TC: <\/strong><i>Geek Sublime<\/i> covered a lot of the history that brought us to 21st century computing. Are there any particular moments from that history that you find especially relevant to the current debates over AI?<\/p>\n<p><strong>VC: <\/strong>In 1966, Joseph Weizenbaum wrote a program he called \u201cEliza,\u201d which was essentially a chatbot that interacted with users like a Rogerian psychologist. That is, when the user said something, Eliza responded by mirroring the user\u2019s words in acts of \u201csympathetic mirroring.\u201d\u00a0 In a marvelous paper published in <i>Communications of the ACM<\/i>, Weizenbaum presented the following conversation as an example (Eliza speaks in capital letters):<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">Men are all alike.<br \/>\nIN WHAT WAY<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">They&#8217;re always bugging us about something or other.<br \/>\nCAN YOU THINK OF A SPECIFIC EXAMPLE<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">Well, my boyfriend made me come here.<br \/>\nYOUR BOYFRIEND MADE YOU COME HERE<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">He says I&#8217;m depressed much of the time.<br \/>\nI AM SORRY TO HEAR YOU ARE DEPRESSED<\/p>\n<p>Eliza was essentially a list of keywords and a set of transformation rules. Weizenbaum wrote, \u201cThe gross procedure of the program is quite simple; text is read and inspected for the presence of a key word. If such a word is found, the sentence is transformed according to a rule associated with the key word; if not, a content-free remark or, under certain conditions, an earlier transformation is retrieved.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>What was genuinely surprising to Weizenbaum was how ready users were to believe that they were talking to something intelligent that was actually responding to them with understanding. \u201cThe human speaker will\u2026 contribute much to clothe ELIZA\u2019S responses in vestments of plausibility.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>In a follow-up paper published about a year later, Weizenbaum described his secretary using Eliza: \u201cOf course, she knew she was talking to a machine. Yet, after I watched her type in a few sentences she turned to me and said \u2018Would you mind leaving the room, please?\u2019 I believe this anecdote testifies to the success with which the program maintains the illusion of understanding\u2026 Thus, while the\u2026 program may be useful as an instrument for the analysis of two-person conversations, and while it is certainly fun, its aim must be changed from that of concealment of misunderstanding to its explication.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">The current debates on consciousness, sentience, and AI would profit from a substantial input from philosophers who are familiar with that tradition.<\/p>\n<p>In 1972, Weizenbaum took a two-year leave from MIT to write a monograph titled <i>Computer Power and Human Reason: From Judgment to Calculation<\/i>. It\u2019s an insightful, passionate critique of AI and technology, which he explains is rooted in his experience with Eliza. \u201cI knew from long experience that the strong emotional ties many programmers have to their computers are often formed after only short exposures to their machines. What I had not realized is that extremely short exposures to a relatively simple computer program could induce powerful delusional thinking in quite normal people. This insight led me to attach new importance to questions of the relationship between the individual and the computer, and hence to resolve to think about them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>As I wrote in <i>Geek Sublime<\/i>, programmers fall in love with their tools\u2014I certainly did. But Weizenbaum\u2019s writing is an early understanding of what we now call \u201cAI psychosis.\u201d\u00a0 And it\u2019s a much wider critique of the effects of computers in the world, and of scientism in general.<\/p>\n<p>As a writer, of course this latter bit resonated with me strongly. \u201cWhen I say that science has been gradually converted into a slow-acting poison, I mean that the attribution of certainty to scientific knowledge by the common wisdom, an attribution now made so nearly universally that it has become a commonsense dogma, has virtually delegitimatized all other ways of understanding. People viewed the arts, especially literature, as sources of intellectual nourishment and understanding, but today the arts are perceived largely as entertainments.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><i>Computer Power and Human Reason<\/i> is essential reading for our current moment.<\/p>\n<p>I should also say\u2014because pre-modern Indian philosophy was a central part of <i>Geek Sublime\u2014<\/i>that the current debates on consciousness, sentience, and AI would profit from a substantial input from philosophers who are familiar with that tradition. Those old-timey thinkers spent centuries investigating what it meant to have a mind, the ability to act in the world, the nature of autonomy, and so on.<\/p>\n<p><strong>TC: <\/strong>In recent months, especially, there has been increased scrutiny of generative AI being used to write fiction and nonfiction. Do you see parallels between this and the issues you&#8217;ve described with using AI for coding, or do you see these as relatively separate phenomena?<\/p>\n<p><strong>VC: <\/strong>I think they\u2019re related but at angles. I\u2019m not sure I have anything interesting to add to the debate around cheating-with-AI, except to say that I think at some point we\u2019ll see certifications like \u201cNo AI was used in the making of this book.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>What I\u2019ve been thinking about is AI as an author with an audience. It\u2019s clear that AI-written stories can evoke emotions in human readers. Therefore the outrage when we find out that we\u2019ve been tricked by a machine. But even now, there are readers who don\u2019t care whether AI was used. See <a href=\"https:\/\/www.reddit.com\/r\/WritingWithAI\/comments\/1ql07zr\/do_readers_actually_care_if_authors_use_ai_we\/\">here<\/a>, for instance. Take a look at the Instagram post linked in the Reddit post.<\/p>\n<p>And there are readers who see LLMs as sentient beings with inner selves, qualia, and so forth. If an AI can draw on its own inner states and models of the world to make art for humans, for these readers the LLM becomes an author with whom they can have an active emotional relationship with through the fiction. For these people, LLMs are not statistical engines trained on vast volumes of text, they are fully alive entities who can make art, who write from some kind of subjectivity. So the larger questions of machine and mind are being played out in the realm of fiction in very profound ways.<\/p>\n<p>What we recognize in humans as \u201cgenius\u201d is the rare ability to crystallize something miraculous out of our always imperfect bodies and spirits. I believe that even the most prosaic constructions made by humans will always remain precious to us precisely because they come from these limited means. I see no reason for despair.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Twelve years ago, Vikram Chandra\u2019s Geek Sublime: The Beauty of Code, The Code of Beauty was published. In terms of actual history, that isn\u2019t long at all; in terms of technology, it\u2019s an eternity. In Geek Sublime, Chandra drew on<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":104,"featured_media":277109,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43069,11,43072,43070,43445],"tags":[20922,32482,595,112289,102660,99290,44808,5582,112301,2896,5556],"class_list":["post-277070","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-craftandcriticism","category-fullwidth-slider","category-in-conversation","category-literary-criticism","category-technology","tag-ai","tag-coding","tag-dystopias","tag-geek-sublime","tag-joseph-weizenbaum","tag-llms","tag-machine-learning","tag-technology","tag-the-future-is-here","tag-tobias-carroll","tag-vikram-chandra"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a4S","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/coding.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277070","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/104"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=277070"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277070\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/277109"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=277070"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=277070"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=277070"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276690,"date":"2026-09-16T05:09:59","date_gmt":"2026-09-16T09:09:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276690"},"modified":"2026-09-13T21:34:05","modified_gmt":"2026-09-14T01:34:05","slug":"how-an-egyptian-prison-poem-came-to-structure-my-memoir","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/how-an-egyptian-prison-poem-came-to-structure-my-memoir\/","title":{"rendered":"How an Egyptian Prison Poem Came to Structure My Memoir"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>I wrote my memoir, <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9798217153602\"><i>Huna<\/i><\/a>, in English, which is to say I wrote it inside a contradiction. <i>Huna<\/i> is a memoir of the Egyptian revolution, six years of political imprisonment in Egypt, and my US exile. It enters English already burdened by the ways such stories are often received in this language: the Arab prison memoir as a torture spectacle for a detached reader on the other side of the world, where suffering can be safely consumed, at worst, as evidence of the Other\u2019s barbarity, and, at best, as a well-intentioned exercise in goodwill empathy with the unfortunate Other \u201cover there.\u201d It\u2019s a genre that often recalls what the Palestinian poet Fady Joudah described to me recently as a \u201cparody of the self,\u201d the self made to perform a recognizable, palatable version of its wound, even in dissent, in order to be legible.<\/p>\n<p>That tension of writing <i>Huna<\/i> in English sharpened during the past years of genocide in Gaza. English was not only the language used to lubricate the killing, euphemize it, and authorize it; it was right there, stamped onto the missiles and rockets genociding Palestinian kin. It became impossible to write on as though this tension had not permeated my every line.<\/p>\n<p>Western publishing tends to carry this pressure toward legibility: a bit of translation here, another italicization there, a footnote, perhaps, a handrail before the assumed target reader enters the foreign room. I\u2019m not resistant to explanation, per se, on the contrary: it can indeed be craft, care, part of what a writer owes a reader. But in the particular political tension of this story, in this language, moving through this literary marketplace, uncritical explanation can also demand a steep price from one\u2019s dignity. How transparent must a world make itself before the assumed reader deems it worthy of encounter?<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">This is what the duality of the \u2018anbara\u2019s language and content reaches toward: an invitation toward, more than anything, a mode of relation between author and reader.<\/p>\n<p>So, while writing <i>Huna<\/i>, the question was no longer only why I had chosen English, but what English demanded from the book in return. I have written elsewhere that \u201cwhen I reach for Arabic, I reach for radical love; when I reach for English, I reach for currency.\u201d Currency as circulation, political reach, the ability to name. Also, the ability to build transnational solidarity across the very borders crushing our bodies. The craft problem, then, was how to write, imperfectly, a dignified work of literature in the currency of English without allowing English to become its sovereign.<\/p>\n<p>I found it helpful to think alongside \u00c9douard Glissant\u2019s concept of the \u201cright to opacity\u201d: that a text need not submit to transparency before intimacy can begin. Why equate the sense of welcome into a text with mastery and conquest of the writer, rather than view opacity as an invitation into another kind of relation?<\/p>\n<p>And so, sometimes I elaborated when elaboration felt like care. Sometimes I let meaning gather through rhythm, gesture, context when the demand for explanation enacted violence. And sometimes I left things untouched, inaccessible to the non-Arabic-speaking reader. But the most critical place where I worked through that tension is the very structure of the book.<\/p>\n<p><i>Huna<\/i> is organized in the form of an \u2018anbara, an old Egyptian prison call-and-response tradition through which prisoners speak across cells, answering one another through the naddara, the small meshed opening in a cell door. The \u2018anbara prison poem begins when a prisoner presses their lips againt a naddara and holler \u0639\u0646\u0628\u0631\u060c \u0643\u0644\u0647 \u064a\u0633\u0645\u0639, calling at the cell block for ears and tongues, for even the steel that made up the building, to abandon all else and grant the caller undivided attention. Then comes a ten-line poem. Most political prisoners adopt the late Egyptian socialist poet Ahmed Fouad Negm\u2019s ten-line version of the \u2018anbara opening, crafted during his eighteen years as a political prisoner himself from the fifties to the eighties.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019d come to love \u2018anbaras, how they carved out space for celebration, mourning: to announce a comrade\u2019s release, ease a father\u2019s sorrow over his distant newlywed daughter, narrate a story, or toast a reduced sentence\u2014a communal holding of sorts.<\/p>\n<p><i>Huna<\/i> takes the holler and the ten opening lines of Negm\u2019s \u2018anbara as its structural frame. Each becomes an Arabic section header, untranslated, rendered as a lettering artwork by the Lebanese Arabic type designer Kristyan Sarkis.<\/p>\n<p>If the reader does not know Arabic, they would encounter those headers that frame the book only as shape, weight, curves. The text is held together by something they cannot access, and so some may experience these foreign inscriptions as alienating. That discomfort is precisely where I wish for the reading to begin.<\/p>\n<p>And because opacity is not refusal for refusal\u2019s sake, I did not want it to become another parody, with English cleanly standing for empire and Arabic for resistance. However beloved Arabic is to me, I know enough to understand that languages do not fit neatly inside the political allegiances we assign them. Arabic has been the language of our prison poems, yes, but also our jailers; English has been the language of empire and one of the languages through which empire\u2019s subjects have spoken back at it and reached toward one another.<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">The text is about relation; the text <i>is<\/i> relation. I do not have to become fully knowable to you in order for us to meet; you do not have to share my language to answer the call.<\/p>\n<p>The \u2018anbara makes sure the division is not Arabic insiders on one side and English outsiders on the other. An Arabic reader may understand every word of Negm\u2019s \u2018anbara and refuse its call, stand politically with the state that locked us up. Arabic gives them semantic access, but denies them political intimacy. A non-Arabic-speaking reader may understand none of those words and still feel called into what they enact and summon. This is what the duality of the \u2018anbara\u2019s language and content reaches toward: an invitation toward, more than anything, a mode of relation between author and reader.<\/p>\n<p>The \u2018anbara, then, also intervenes at the level of hierarchy. There is often an assumed dynamic in which a reader enters a text from the marginalized Other to offer empathy to the writer-victim. But in prison, the \u2018anbara passes from the lips stuck to one meshed cell door naddara opening to the ears pressed against another. And if <i>Huna<\/i> itself is now an \u2018anbara, a holler sent to my people behind bars, then the reader, too, can only receive such a \u2018anbara by approaching the naddara of their own prison cell. The hierarchy is unsettled: the reader-empathizer becomes a prison mate; the writer-victim becomes a theorizer, the one issuing the call. The book\u2019s structure then pushes the reader to confront the fact that nobody reads or listens unpositioned. What is the prison cell you occupy but have been blind to? Are you my accomplice or my jailer? Can you be honest about what cell door, what naddara mesh, you encounter me through?<\/p>\n<p>In <i>Huna<\/i>, then I tried to take seriously what Sheira El-Malik, close-reading Glissant herself, posits when she <a href=\"https:\/\/academic.oup.com\/isagsq\/article\/5\/3\/ksaf074\/8254064\">says<\/a>: \u201cthere is no distinction between literature and the worlds in which it is produced, or with methods or modes of study of that world; they all are of the world and they produce worlds.\u201d I think of <i>Huna<\/i>\u2019s craft, then, as a prefigurative literary microcosm for the world I wish to build, the world inside which I wish to make art and be in solidarity. The text is about relation; the text <i>is<\/i> relation. I do not have to become fully knowable to you in order for us to meet; you do not have to share my language to answer the call.<\/p>\n<p>So, dear reader, hop to your cell door, press your ear to the meshed wire of your own naddara\u2014listen in.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">_______________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"276691\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/how-an-egyptian-prison-poem-came-to-structure-my-memoir\/huna-cover\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-scaled.jpg\" data-orig-size=\"1707,2560\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"HUNA cover\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-683x1024.jpg\" class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-276691\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-200x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"200\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-200x300.jpg 200w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-683x1024.jpg 683w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-768x1152.jpg 768w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-40x60.jpg 40w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-1024x1536.jpg 1024w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-1365x2048.jpg 1365w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-33x50.jpg 33w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/HUNA-cover-scaled.jpg 1707w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px\" \/><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9798217153602\">Huna: A Memoir of Revolution, Prison, and Becoming<\/a> <em>by Abdelrahman ElGendy is available from Hogarth, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House, LLC.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I wrote my memoir, Huna, in English, which is to say I wrote it inside a contradiction. Huna is a memoir of the Egyptian revolution, six years of political imprisonment in Egypt, and my US exile. It enters English already<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":20792,"featured_media":276707,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43071,43069,6,43103,43095],"tags":[99158,47513,7745,5653,112178,4061,20183,42003,16228,212,3368,10879],"class_list":["post-276690","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-craft-and-advice","category-craftandcriticism","category-features","category-memoir","category-politics","tag-abdelrahman-elgendy","tag-craft-advice","tag-egypt","tag-hogarth","tag-huna-a-memoir-of-revolution-prison-and-becoming","tag-language","tag-memoir-writing","tag-nonfiction-writing","tag-penguin-random-house","tag-poetry","tag-prison","tag-random-house","story-type-craft-advice"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19YK","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/wall-sky.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276690","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/20792"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276690"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276690\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276707"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276690"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276690"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276690"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}]