Another weekend, another round-up ...

• The screenplay to the film adaptation of David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest exists--but, as his agent confesses, he didn't have anything to do with it. (And the movie isn't coming out any time soon--sorry, kids.)
• I never pass up a new Michael Chabon essay.
• Esquire phones it in with a predictably unoriginal slideshow of the seventy-five books every man should read.
• Nerve interviews Graham Vickers, author of the new book Chasing Lolita: "[Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita is] driven by sex, but I don't think it's sexy in the sense of being stimulating. I think people who picked it up with its reputation preceding it quickly put it down again, because it's shot through with sex certainly, but only if you buy into the way Nabokov has written it. He was very dismissive of books that set out to be titillating." ... 
• Waldo--yes, that same bastard you spent hours trying to find--turns twenty-one today.

Comments

[Dorothy W.]

I'm tempted to pick up Infinite Jest at some point, although I don't really like reading a book just because an author recently died -- it seems a little creepy. So maybe a year or two down the road ...

[Stefanie]

Waldo turns 21? Does that mean we can start looking for him in bars now too? Or maybe passed out in the alley by the dumpster?

[Citizen Reader]

Hey, even if Esquire is phoning it in, at least they're still providing a list of books. GQ always has a good book page too. Try finding something comparable in "women's magazines" and you'll be SOL--Redbook, Glamour, etc., none of those advertise books unless they're titled stuff like "Oprah's latest book," "Keeping your family healthy from every little disease etc.," or "Making your marriage work." So sad.