About a month ago I was googling myself (seeing what was up with the way I'm interacting with the universe), and I came across a link to an essay on Isaac Bashevis Singer that mentioned me. I spent about 15 years of my academic career writing about Singer, and so I was curious what this critic had to say about what I had to say about Singer. Well, the critic, Andrew Crown, thought I was completely wrong in what I had to say about Singer and that my approach simplified the complexities of that great writer.
I didn't take offense. In fact, on the contrary, I was happy to see that anyone was considering any of my critical work. I spent most of my academic career writing and publishing literary criticism, and most of it has -- justly or unjustly -- escaped any notice.
So of course, I tracked down Andrew Crown's email address through google, and wrote him a note thanking him for remembering what I wrote about Singer.
We struck up a correspondence of course because -- checking him out on the internet via google -- I discovered that he was a homeboy from Chicago (just like me) and he's writing weird stuff (just like me) and -- unlike me -- he's living and teaching in South Korea. Totally, unlike me. But absolutely interesting.
Today, he sent me a link to a short story/memoir he's posted on the web, and I enjoyed reading it and thought some of my FB friends might like to read something by Andrew. It's a piece about literary criticism and reading and how to get along with a Korean wife.
Here's the link to Andrew Crown's "The Caveman."