阅读的秘密

I\'m Hu Shuzhong, one of the translators of THE Patriotic Gore by Edmund Wilson. Glad to read your parts of your BLOG and eager to know who you are. I\'m still with SISU. More later.

Elizabeth Hardwick (1916–2007)
By Derek Walcott
The following statement was sent by Derek Walcott from his home in St. Lucia and read by Hilton Als at a memorial service in New York City on December 16, 2007, for Elizabeth Hardwick, co-founder and advisory editor of The New York Review since 1963 and contributor of more than one hundred reviews, articles, reflections, and letters to these pages.

—The Editors

Distance requires formality, but I cannot be distant writing about Lizzie Hardwick since everything has come alarmingly closer—the curls, the infectious chuckles, the drawl like poured-out honey, the privilege of sharing her astute delight, and the benign devastations of her wit. Because she hated pomposity she was more fun than any American writer I have known. She preferred gaiety to malice and had the laugh to go with it. Memories of her rise like butterflies from a bush, all darting, elate, and light; the use of three adjectives is the signature of her style, perhaps because of the precise languor of her Kentucky accent.

That meter entered her husband\'s poems and Cal sometimes sounded as if he were talking in Elizabeth\'s voice, as Robert Lowell blended into Elizabeth Hardwick. Laughter is a gift, not mockery; even to giggle at the invisible clothes of the emperors of our fiction and poetry, which she had to do in her criticism, was natural; that quality of lightness lifted us up too. You felt that she wrote for you, you hoped that those brilliant monologues of the best prose writer in America would not ever reach a period, but you also knew that she would outlast it.

They rise thick and fast from the hibiscus bush, merriment in the December sunshine: memories of Lizzie running backstage at the interval of one of my plays, so happy for me; Lizzie being so fond of Margaret, my second wife; Cal and Lizzie with Harriet and my son Peter in Trinidad; and, invisible from that ordinary goodness, the essays that I read with as much care as if they were poems, not only for their meaning but their scansion, with the hibiscus bush now bare of the bliss of her thought, her butterflies.

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/20931

原来文汇读书周报是这样变得难看的，真是罪过

刘森尧的译本To the Finland Station我在复旦看过,难得赞一下学校的馆藏了

可惜《到芬兰车站》无法在国内出版。呵呵。
cellocello，这本Critical Times你会不会做啊？很有兴趣！

谢谢博主和楼上的朋友 New Yorker上的大作是Louis Menand写的，Menand的《哲学俱乐部》现在已经有江苏人民的译本，他本人也是我欣赏的学院派文人，他最早的博士论文其中一段就是研究EW的
EW的中译本有四部，JJ提到的爱国者之血我看的也是上外的版本，呵呵，Axel的版本是江苏教育，不过To Finland Station只有台湾版本的
Lewis Dabney的传记目前被评为最权威和可读的，我先在正在啃读中，不过我更被EW的私人生活所迷恋，呵呵，那段20年代的镏金岁月。
非常感谢博主们讨论，希望听到大家的高见！

Edmund Wilson的Axel's Castle已经有中译本啦。还有他的《爱国者之血》也有。好象前年《纽约客》发过一篇纪念文章Edmund Wilson and American culture。呵呵。

很喜欢看你的博客讲纽约文人,最近有没有这方面的书或是传记可以推荐下。我个人在研究关于Edmund Wilson的咚咚，不知博主有何高见^_^