Somebody with a little hammer
Essays. Selections
A lot of exploding heads: on reading the Book of Revelation -- The trouble with following the rules: on "date rape, " "victim culture, " and personal responsibility -- A lovely chaotic silliness: a review of The Fermata by Nicholson Baker -- Toes 'n hose: a review of From the Tip of the Toes to the Top of the Hose by Elmer Batters, and Nothing But the Girl, edited by Susie Bright and Jill Posener -- Crackpot mystic spirit: a review of Invisible Republic: Bob Dylan's Basement Tapes by Greil Marcus -- Bitch: a review of Bitch: In Praise of Difficult Women by Elizabeth Wurtzel -- Dye hard: a review of Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates -- Mechanical rabbit: a review of Licks of Love by John Updike -- I've seen it all: thoughts on a song by Björk -- And it would not be wonderful to meet a megalosaurus: on Bleak House by Charles Dickens -- Remain in light: on the Talking Heads -- Victims and losers: a love story: thoughts on the movie Secretary -- The bridge: a memoir of Saint Petersburg -- Somebody with a little hammer: on teaching "Gooseberries" by Anton Chekhov -- Enchantment and cruelty: on Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie -- Worshipping the overcoat: an election diary -- This doughty nose: on Norman Mailer's An American Dream and The Armies of Night -- Lost cat: a memoir -- I see their hollowness: a review of Cockroach by Rawi Hage -- Lives of the hags: a review of Baba Yaga Laid an Egg by Dubravka Ugresic -- Leave the woman alone!: on the never-ending political extramarital scandals -- Master's mind: a review of Agaat by Marlene van Niekerk -- Imaginary light: a song called "Nowhere girl" -- Form over feeling: a review of Out by Natsuo Kirino -- Beg for your life: on the films of Laurel Nakadate -- The cunning of women: on One Thousand and One Nights by Hanan al-Shaykh -- Pictures of Lo: on covering Lolita -- The easiest thing to forget: on Carl Wilson's Let's Talk About Love -- She's supposed to make you sick: a review of Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn -- Icon: on Linda Lovelace -- That running shadow of your voice: on Nabokov's Letters to Véra.
