pinter's prize
So Harold Pinter won the Nobel. I'm ashamed to admit I've never seen one of his plays (although a friend is in a production of one of them in London right now....) I've read a few of his essays and polemics, some of which impressed me, some of which pissed me off; the poetry that I've seen doesn't do much for me. But my intention to read the plays has suitably redoubled. The Babu is very pleased at the news, Moorishgirl (who is making me homesick with her accounts of her reading tour through Seattle-area bookstores) notes sadly that as she predicted, when it comes to the Nobel, Adonis is always the bridesmaid.
posted by kitabet at 7:09 AM
2 Comments:
well, at least the current edition of the new yorker devotes its poetic space to three poems by Adonis.
S (though the mention of the new yorker should render reference to meself redundant ... too much r)
but not on the bloody website, dammit. i will bide my time until i can read them from the pages of your copy, and then i shall ask you to read them to me in arabic.
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