The article has its interesting aspects, but in other areas, it seems rather outdated.

It's quite noticeable that Dillard focuses solely on works by male authors, with only one or two passing mentions of Doris Lessing and Virginia Woolf.

This is a bit of a letdown as it limits the scope and diversity of the literary discussion.

One would have expected a more comprehensive exploration that includes the contributions of female authors as well.

Perhaps a more updated and inclusive approach would have made the article more engaging and relevant.

Overall, while there are some interesting points, the lack of balance in the author's selection is a drawback.

It would be beneficial to consider a wider range of literary works and authors to provide a more complete and accurate picture of the literary landscape.

**Title: November 2006**

In November 2006, many events took place around the world.

It was a month filled with various activities and developments in different fields.

In the political arena, leaders were engaged in discussions and negotiations to address important issues.

Economically, businesses were making decisions that would impact their growth and success.

Socially, people were coming together for different causes and celebrations.

The month of November 2006 was a time of change and progress, with many stories unfolding.

It was a period that would be remembered for the events and experiences that took place during that time.

Whether it was a personal achievement or a global event, November 2006 had something for everyone.

As we look back on that month, we can see how it contributed to the shaping of our world today.

When I was a student at the University of Iowa,

immersing myself in the study of poetry writing within the Undergraduate Poetry Workshop,

Marvin Bell read an excerpt from this remarkable book.

The title of the piece he read was “Wish I Had Pie.”

I was doubled over with laughter and immediately became completely hooked on Annie Dillard.

If you happen to be a writer,

this book will enable you to understand yourself and your craft in an entirely new light.

It offers fresh perspectives and insights that can transform the way you approach your writing.

On the other hand,

if you’re not a writer,

but simply curious about the creative process,

this book is a wonderful opportunity for you to take a peek behind the curtains.

It allows you to gain a deeper understanding of how writers think, create, and bring their ideas to life.

Whether you’re a writer or just someone with an interest in the creative world,

this book is sure to captivate and inspire you.

A Thoughtful Overview of Contemporary Literature

This piece offers a thoughtful overview of contemporary literature at the time. It delves into an attempt to understand the broad methods employed by contemporary modernists and how these methods reflect on the meaning of fiction in the wider world.

Perhaps it's due to the fact that I don't study literature professionally and am likely quite naive in this regard. However, I found the focus of the novel and the questions raised by Dillard to be truly intriguing. In fact, these are questions that I myself have considered when reading fiction.

The author managed to engage me throughout most of the work. However, in the last chapter, I felt a bit lost. Nevertheless, up until that point, I was pretty much on board with the argument they were making. Overall, it was a nice read that provided valuable insights into the world of contemporary literature and the minds of modernist authors.

This felt like being suddenly dropped into a highly esoteric Master's in Fine Arts program.

It was as if I had been thrust into a world of advanced artistic concepts and techniques without having taken the previous fifteen courses that were supposed to lay the foundation.

I found myself surrounded by students who seemed to have a deep understanding of the subject matter, while I was struggling to keep up.

The lectures were filled with complex theories and discussions that went over my head.

The assignments were challenging and required a level of expertise that I simply didn't possess.

However, instead of feeling defeated, I was determined to learn and catch up.

I spent countless hours reading textbooks, researching online, and seeking help from my professors and classmates.

Slowly but surely, I began to make progress and gain a better understanding of the material.

Although it was a difficult and intimidating experience, it also turned out to be one of the most rewarding and educational experiences of my life.

Annie Dillard is a remarkable writer/intellectual.

She is well aware that she is delving into profound and cerebral matters. However, she has the unique ability to present these ideas in a humorous, inviting, and heartfelt manner. I would love to be in her presence as she engages in conversations about life, books, and writing.

Particularly now, as this book seems rather dated. Physically, my copy is in a rather sorry state - it's actually three stacks of pages held together by glue that flakes off.

It's quite strange to read her reject the term "postmodernist" (it seems she was mistaken about its popularity). Also, she hasn't hopped on the bandwagon of talking solely about ladies.

Nevertheless, I believe she effectively articulates the mechanisms of past literary trends and criticism. At the same time, she explores the possibilities of what writing could be. Her insights are both profound and hopeful in a way that I can truly believe in.

Admittedly, the beginning of the book is a bit dry and the ending is definitely lacking. But in between, there are so many passages that I flagged, indicating their significance and value.

Overall, despite its flaws, this book offers a wealth of interesting and thought-provoking ideas.

I didn't necessarily concur with all of her appraisals of diverse types of fiction. However, the overall exposition was comprehensive and remained relevant even after all these years.

Although the status of non-fiction has altered, as I believe she would concur. It is a highly accessible read for those who are unacquainted with semiotics, theories of cultural production, and post/modernism.

Moreover, it is engaging enough for those who are approaching it having already perused some of the texts that are cited.

This work offers valuable insights and perspectives, presenting a well-rounded view of the subject matter. It serves as a useful introduction for beginners and also provides interesting food for thought for those with prior knowledge in the field.

Whether you are new to these concepts or have some familiarity, this read is likely to offer something of value and keep you engaged throughout.

It bridges the gap between different levels of understanding and invites readers to explore and expand their knowledge in an enjoyable and accessible way.

101027:

It is a pleasant short book that has the power to bring comfort to anyone who writes. In this world of words, writers often wonder if their efforts are in vain. But this book offers a glimmer of hope and reassurance.

It reminds us that the act of writing is not just a random pursuit but holds great significance. Every word we pen, every story we tell, has the potential to touch someone's heart, to inspire, or to make a difference.

Whether it's a fictional tale that transports readers to another world or a non-fiction piece that imparts knowledge and wisdom, writing has the ability to leave a lasting impact.

This short book serves as a gentle reminder that our words have value and that what we do as writers is far from being in vain. It encourages us to keep writing, to share our thoughts and ideas with the world, and to believe in the power of our words.

I am absolutely infuriated.

It feels as if my anger is about to boil over. The situation that has led to this state of extreme annoyance is truly exasperating.

I just can't seem to contain my frustration.

It's like a storm brewing inside me, ready to unleash at any moment.

The four stars that I've given might seem a bit lenient considering how angry I am, but there are still some aspects that I feel deserve a bit of recognition.

However, overall, my fury is the dominant emotion at the moment, and it's difficult to see past it.

I hope that something can be done to address the issues that have caused this anger, so that I can find some semblance of peace and calm once again.

In our lives, we often encounter various challenges and opportunities.

During this journey, having an indispensible mentor and friend is truly a blessing.

A mentor is someone who has more experience and knowledge in a particular field. They can offer valuable guidance, share their insights, and help us avoid common mistakes.

They are like a guiding light, leading us in the right direction.

A friend, on the other hand, is someone who we can rely on, trust, and share our joys and sorrows with.

They provide emotional support, encourage us when we are down, and celebrate our successes with us.

An indispensible mentor and friend combines the best of both worlds. They not only offer practical advice and help but also provide the emotional support and friendship that we need to thrive.

They are there for us through thick and thin, and their presence makes our journey more meaningful and fulfilling.

We should cherish and value these special people in our lives and be grateful for their guidance and support.

Dillard's prose is truly wondrous. As the title implies, it delves into the experience of living with and loving fiction.

If you were an English major, her words will transport you back to all the magic and joy that literature holds. It's as if she has the power to reignite that passion within you.

At the same time, she keeps you firmly grounded in critical theory. This balance is what makes her work so engaging and thought-provoking.

Sure, it might seem a little dated, being from 1982. But I have a soft spot for the '80s, and in any case, good thought never really goes out of style.

Dillard's exploration of the relationship between the reader and fiction is timeless, and her insights are as relevant today as they were back then.

Whether you're a die-hard English major or simply someone who loves a good book, her prose is sure to touch your heart and expand your mind.

I have to admit that when I first picked up this book, I was anticipating something along the lines of Anne Lamott's "Bird by Bird", a profound contemplation of the writing life. However, to my surprise, this turned out to be a book of literary criticism, and unfortunately, of a rather deadly kind.

It's not that the book is not well-written. After all, it's Annie Dillard, and her writing is flawless. There isn't a single clumsy sentence in the entire work. And this somehow aligns with her theme: that the essence of fiction lies in the art itself, rather than in the story.

In the first half of the book, she describes modernist fiction as the kind where the strength lies in art, not in the narrative. To determine the excellence of a given piece of fiction, one should ask not "is it true?" but "is it well-done?" Here, I couldn't help but wonder, "why not ask both questions?" She spends some time lamenting the fact that the general public prefers "realized content" or "depth" in their stories rather than the self-referential integrity of "form" within the narrative.

Yes, indeed. Some of us believe that fiction is about the characters and the plot. We, the poor, ignorant, bourgeois simpletons. We would rather have you tell us a captivating story than show off your skill in arranging words. (Again, why can't we have both? The beautiful prose, the elegant structure - and the engaging plot?)

I am also one of those uneducated simpletons who think that language can actually correspond to objects in the real world. I know. To her credit, Dillard does eventually take the stance that language can have shared meaning among different people, albeit imperfectly.

Dillard then transitions from conducting literary criticism to singing the praises of literary criticism. She proclaims that fiction is impotent until someone critiques it. Not just reads it, but critiques it. Fiction interprets the world, but critics interpret fiction, and the works of fiction remain silent until the critics do their job.

Yes, of course. I'm sure that's exactly how it works. Forget about the arguments regarding the author's intent versus what the reader brings to the story - it's all about what the critic brings to the table. Uh-huh. That's even better!

So, I started this book feeling angry (it's hard not to be when she keeps asking questions like, "after you have read a detailed analysis of Eliot's 'Four Quartets'... why would you care to write fiction like Jack London's...?", as if the world weren't big enough for both), but I ended it feeling simply sad.

I mean, here is Annie Dillard: brilliant, talented, a writer of exquisitely elegant prose, a woman who cares deeply about literature, and yet, in the end, she is unable to assert that literature actually has any useful purpose in the world. She hopes it does. She is inclined to think it does - she particularly believes that fiction can interpret the human (as opposed to the natural) world to us. She says "art remakes the world according to sense," and I can see where she's coming from. But in the end, she can't actually assert any of these beliefs because her philosophy of knowledge prevents her from saying, "I am right," or even "this, at least, I know."

I agree with her when she says that not knowing completely doesn't mean we know nothing at all. But she seems to lose even this conviction by the end of the book. This is - I'm not kidding - the final paragraph, and the point at which I gave up my (faint, but persistent) hope that all of these chapters were leading up to some variation of "of course, I am only joking":

"Which shall it be? Do art's complex and balanced relationships among all parts, its purpose, significance, and harmony, exist in nature? Is nature whole, like a completed thought? Is history purposeful? Is the universe of matter significant? I am sorry; I do not know."

Now, please, tell me I'm not the only one who reads that and wants to weep for the woman. This poor lady, spending so much time, caring so deeply, and being left with only the cold comfort that at least within the text there are balanced relationships. No wonder, I realized at the end, she is so insistent that art be valued for art's sake. She doesn't think there's anything outside of art that art could reflect. To be left with only the formal and cold beauty of Modernist fiction for comfort? Only with the consolation that at least, in this or that story, there might be internal integrity? That this or that artist made his little world have a formal logic, and so at least there, in the vast universe, there is order? That's a very small, lonely comfort indeed.

I think I'm going to go and cry now.

But I also have to say: there's none so blind as those who refuse to see. There is a paragraph where she says:

"Can we not loose the methods of literary criticism upon the raw world? May we not analyze the breadth of our experience? We can and may - but only if we first consider the raw world as a text, as a meaningful, purposefully fashioned creation, as a work of art. For we have seen that critics interpret artifacts only. Our interpreting the universe as an artifact absolutely requires that we posit an author for it, or a celestial filmmaker, dramatist, painter, sculptor, composer, architect, or choreographer."

But then, she says,

"And no one has been willing openly to posit such an artist for the universe since the American transcendentalists and before them the Medieval European philosophers."

Okay: I do understand that rational people can be atheists or agnostics (though I would argue they've misinterpreted the data), but this seems to be a case of being unwilling to even engage in the argument at all! Firstly, "no one"? Really? She must be limiting those she considers as people to, what? Academics in her own social circle? Secondly, does she have a bias against considering arguments from her ancestors? That seems very narrow-minded. Why assume that ancient people were less intelligent than modern people? Especially when so much of what we know has been built upon their work? This last sentence just seems extremely closed-minded to me. "Of course, there could be a meaning to the universe, but no one I know has thought so for at least a hundred years, so oh well."

I might be doing her a disservice (I hope I am), but it really does seem to be a dismissal of the majority of humanity in favor of her own class and era. I guess we all have our flaws. (And I truly mean that - we all do, and maybe this is just where she falls short. I can empathize with that, as I hope others will have compassion for me in my own mistakes.)

So, I go back and forth between being upset with this book and being saddened by it. There is some good material in here (observations about artistic integrity, and the impact of an audience on the artist), but that just makes it worse because at the end, the author is not sure if any of that good stuff means anything. Again, I just found this to be a very sad read, all the more so because I have fond memories of her other work, and now I realize that I might have ascribed more meaning to her work than she could herself.