It was a conspicuous and silly PR stunt, but it compelled me enough to start his new book. In the magazine’s story, which coincided with the release of his fourth work of fiction, Freedom, Franzen dramatized the ascetic intensity of his ideal writing environment: he had not only removed his laptop’s wireless card, so that the computer could no longer latch onto a WiFi network he’d superglued an ethernet cable into one of its ports and then snipped the wire, to ensure that this hunk of plastic, metal, glass, and silicon would never be able to connect to the web again. (Arpad Kurucz/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images)īefore I read any of his novels, I knew Jonathan Franzen’s face, from the cover of Time. Jonathan Franzen gives a speech at the Budapest International Book Festival on April 23, 2015. Jonathan Franzen’s Midwestern broods, like horsemen of the apocalypse, ride through his books heralding various endings: of eras, of bygone mores, of novels themselves.
0 kommentar(er)
