“Their Eyes were Watching God: What Does Soulful Mean?”
The book kicks off with Zadie Smith being given a copy of Zora Neale Hurston’s landmark novel with the kind of promise that puts unfair pressure on a reader: “You’ll like it.” Her first reaction to her mother’s inquiry as to what she thought is curiously disconnected from the praise she confides in the reader before that point: “it was basically sound.” The rest of the essay is an attempt to explain how she was not prepared to articulate the depth of emotion she actually felt toward the book.
“F. Kafka, Everyman”
This essay seeks to answer the question of who really was the Kafka, the writer? The problem of not being able to say simply based on his writing stems from the fact that so much of what was eventually published with just the name Franz Kafka attached was filtered through the executor of his literary legend, Max Broad.
“Two Directions of the Novel”
Although one of the longest chapters in the volume and filled with exacting and precise detail to set up, argue and defend her points, it all boils down essentially to dualistic opposition. Just as the title indicates. And although it gets more complicated than the simple distilled version, the two opposing directions come down a choice between the tradition of dense, rich and sincere prose or ironic post-modern metafiction. The author expresses a preference for the former.
“That Crafty Feeling”
As a note at the beginning of this chapter indicates, “That Crafty Feeling” originated as a lecture the author gave for students of Columbia University’s Writing Program. The topic was to speak about some aspect of your craft and so, as might be suspected, this chapter offers advice gained from experience to new writers.
Calling upon Pygmalion, Cary Grant, and Barack Obama as analogies and parallels, this essay sets out to distinguish the impact of one’s voice upon a listener. The ultimate lesson she attempts to make is that those who learn to speak with multiple voices suggesting multiple personalities capable of being called upon to fit the context and expectation of the listeners are destined to succeed at a might higher rate than those who do not.
“Hepburn and Garbo”
Actually two separate articles here combined as one on the basis of subject, this may be the most accessible piece in the collection for many. These are love letters to two of the biggest legends in Hollywood; actresses who in their own distinct and unique way characterize the Golden Age of Hollywood really quite unlike any other two women.
“At the Multiplex, 2006”
Basically, this is a chapter filled with reviews and observations of films released in 2006. Among the notable titles included: Capote, Munich, Walk the Line, Good Night and Good Luck, Syriana and, Date Movie. The latter seems to be included among the nest of more prestigious Hollywood offerings of the year for one reason: “I chose Date Movie, and actually I’m thankful because it allows me to say with certainty something I had not decided until this moment: Date Movie is the worst movie I have ever seen. I really mean that.”
“Dead Man Laughing”
The deceased of the title is the author’s father. The essay’s opening situates the premise of what follows: “My father had few enthusiasms, but he loved comedy. He was a comedy nerd.” Over the course of the narrative, the reader learns what made him laugh and what darkness in his life moved him to embrace comedy so tightly. Along the way, the reader also learns how her father shared his love for laughing with her. The understanding of this bond paves the way for what could seem to some a macabre detail: “When I first put the partial cremains of my father in a Tupperware sandwich box and placed it on my writing desk.”
