I really like the way Franzen tells stories, especially when he portrays people and their relationships with each other. That's why I really enjoyed both "The Corrections" and "Crossroads".

In the essays he has collected here, there are flashes of this storytelling talent from time to time, but overall the texts tend to get lost in long-winded meandering.

And although sometimes it seemed to me as if the author was texting me non-stop without a period or a comma, I still found some of the essays interesting and the reading as a whole, although in some places it is already outdated, still worth reading.

Franzen's writing style is unique, and even in these essays, there are moments that make you stop and think. However, the length and sometimes convoluted nature of the texts can make it a bit of a challenge to get through. Nevertheless, for those who are interested in his work and want to explore his thoughts and ideas further, these essays are definitely worth a look.

**Subtitle: YOU KIDS AND YOUR VAN HALEN RECORDS. GET OFF MY LAWN! (by Jonathan Franzen)**

In today's world, the music preferences of the younger generation often seem baffling to the older one. It's as if there's a huge gap between what they consider good music and what we grew up with.

Take Van Halen records, for example. The kids these days seem to be crazy about them, while some of us might look at it with a certain degree of confusion or even annoyance.

We remember the music of our own era, the sounds that defined our youth, and it can be hard to understand why the new generation is so into something that might not resonate with us.

But perhaps we should try to be a little more open-minded. Maybe there's something in Van Halen's music that speaks to the kids on a level we can't quite grasp.

After all, music is a powerful form of expression, and different generations will always have their own unique tastes and interpretations.

So, instead of yelling "Get off my lawn!" maybe we should take a moment to listen and try to understand what it is that makes the kids love their Van Halen records so much.

Who knows, we might just discover something new and exciting in the process.

Honestly, I liked this book probably more than his novel that I read.

He begins with a short story about his father's Alzheimer's, which immediately grabs the reader's attention. There are also several other engaging stories about reading and writing that I truly enjoyed.

One of his stories focuses on the postal service, which, curiously enough, made me think of the Crying of Lot 49. However, it should be noted that Franzen's story and Pynchon's novel have little in common aside from the topic. Franzen had mentioned Pynchon in an earlier essay, so perhaps that's why I was primed to think of him and his work.

Additionally, the book contains stories about smoking cigarettes, life in NYC, prisons, going back to his childhood home, and the 2001 inauguration.

One particular quote that made me stop and think was: "How could I have thought I needed to cure myself to fit into the real world. I didn't need curing and the world didn't either. The only thing that needed curing was my understanding of my place in it."

What I will say, though, is that I don't think the title quite fits the book and vice versa. There is one line about how reading and writing is a way to not feel alone, but I was hoping Franzen would more comprehensively address the title inquiry. Overall, while the book has its strengths, the misalignment between the title and the content is a bit of a drawback.

I truly relished this. Franzen's more personal essays, such as "My Father's Brain", "Why Bother?", and "Meet Me in St. Louis", had a profound impact on me.

I experienced the reader-author connection that Franzen extols in a great book, and I repeatedly found myself reaching for my pen.

These essays also enabled me, in 2021, to engage with a 1999 perspective on the increasing concerns that technology and consumerism would infiltrate every facet of American lives.

These essays are both poignant and relevant, presented with a powerful voice and by a talented writer.

I would highly recommend them to anyone seeking thought-provoking and engaging reading material.

They offer valuable insights into the human condition and the challenges and changes of our times.

Franzen's ability to convey complex emotions and ideas in a clear and accessible manner is truly remarkable.

His essays are not only a pleasure to read but also a source of inspiration and reflection.

I look forward to exploring more of his work in the future.

I understand my life through the prism of literary characters like Raskolnikov and Quentin Compson, rather than those from the world of late-night talk shows such as David Letterman or Jerry Seinfeld. However, the life I perceive via books is starting to feel increasingly solitary. It has little connection to the media landscape that shapes the present for so many others. With each passing day, for every reader who fades away, a viewer is born. And here, in the anxious mid-nineties, we seem to be witnessing the final tilting of a balance. For critics prone to alarmism, the transition from a print-based culture to a virtual image-based culture - a shift that commenced with television and is now being finalized with computers - feels like the end of the world. [1995]

And I thought I was being overly alarmist, constantly complaining about our modern obsession (and dependence) on smartphones, Netflix, and Twitter news updates and knee-jerk reactions. Thanks, Jonathan, for making me feel more reasonable!

I relished my alone time with this book. It made me feel as if I had a deeper understanding of the mind of an author I greatly revere.

On a side note, having just finished reading The Corrections, the essay My Father's Brain was a perfect complement, especially considering the character who I now know was clearly the author's dad. My parents also adored this essay. If you wish to see the tree dedicated to Earl Franzen, as well as Jonathan's childhood home that was undoubtedly the model for the novel, simply look no further.

Having read Franzen's two major works, I have made up my mind to take on the rest of his oeuvre, commencing with this volume of essays. I am a great admirer of the essay tradition, and thus I anticipated that it would be thrilling to witness Franzen's remarkable writing style being applied to nonfiction. My expectations were not in vain. His facility with words and his capacity to pen clear and beautiful sentences are evident throughout this collection.

Some of the outstanding pieces in this particular collection include "My Father's Brain," which delves into his father's Alzheimer's, "Meet Me In St. Louis," which details his appearance on the Oprah Winfrey Book Club, and "Mr. Difficult," which combines his experiences of reading Gaddis's "The Recognitions" with a defense of reading serious literary fiction.

The latter, serious literary fiction, holds great significance for Franzen, and this is truly palpable. However, this gives rise to one of the few irksome aspects of the collection, namely that Franzen can come across as a bit pompous at times. I am aware that other readers have voiced numerous complaints about this, and I find myself in agreement with them. Nevertheless, I also feel a certain degree of sympathy for him. Perhaps this is a warning sign. But in any case.

Franzen is at his absolute best when he writes about his personal experiences and his own neuroses. He remains proficient when he expands upon the former to muse about the state of the modern world. However, some individuals might believe that he has an overly high opinion of himself.

(Also, a side note: it is truly fascinating to observe how much of Franzen's fiction is semi-autobiographical. From simply reading this collection, it is evident that Chip from "The Corrections" and Walter from "Freedom" are clearly based on Franzen himself. But perhaps I was just naïve for not realizing this earlier.)

Although Franzen's flowery and pretentious writing style could be a bit overwhelming at times, and the topics of some of his essays, such as prisons in Colorado, might seem rather strange. However, in the end, they all neatly fit under the overarching theme of being alone. The new prison designs that instill 100% solitary confinement, for example, add a unique perspective to this theme. And of course, it must be said that Franzen's essays are well-researched and well-written. Nevertheless, I do have a wish. I wish he had toned it down a few times to make the essays feel more relatable and less overly literary. Additionally, I absolutely loathed the Harper's essay and his attitude towards the "social novel." It seemed more like a self-pitying display rather than an intellectual take on the country's reading habits or the lack thereof. Overall, while Franzen's work has its merits, there are also areas where it could be improved.

Thank God.

Violently tiresome.

This is an EDITED anthology compiled by the author.

So why does he say the same thing in every single essay?

Completely lacking in compelling vulnerability, Franzen makes some sympathetic observations seemingly in spite of himself.

Caveat lector.

It's truly exasperating to encounter such a situation.

The author's repetitiveness in the essays makes it a rather dull read.

One would expect more variety and depth from an anthology.

However, Franzen's lack of vulnerability perhaps hinders his ability to present a more engaging and nuanced perspective.

Despite this, there are still some sympathetic observations that manage to shine through, almost against his will.

But readers should be cautious and approach this work with a discerning eye.

It remains to be seen if Franzen will be able to break free from this pattern and offer something more refreshing and thought-provoking in future works.

I just can't.

I would rather be an immortal who is cursed to spend his entire life in solitude than to read another page of this
dnf
Edit because I thought that this review isn't bad enough:

This whole book gives the impression that the author had a word count he had to meet and simply began chattering. He sounds like that unbearable person in your class who always attempts to make himself seem smarter by going on and on about whatever, using any complex vocabulary he has.

Another edit because I don't think I've fully captured how much I loathed this book:

If I had the opportunity to travel back in time before I learned how to read, I would end my life just to ensure that I would never encounter this book in my lifetime.

Another another edit:

If you are considering reading this book, make sure to wash your eyes with Clorox afterwards.

It's truly that bad. The writing is convoluted and seems forced, lacking any real substance or coherence. I found myself constantly frustrated and unable to engage with the story or the characters. Save yourself the agony and skip this one.

Franzen, we are well aware that you have been occupied with penning the Great American Novel and all. However, you are long overdue for a new compilation of essays that either embraces or at least acknowledges the 21st century. Several of these essays bear a date from the 90's, but I firmly believe his tribute to rotary phones could be decades older. Has he not been acquainted with the cell phone? He refers to Touch-Tones as state-of-the-art communication devices. In 1995, he disposed of a television that seemingly doubled as a side table. How long did this antiquated item clutter up his closet? Decades. Is it truly sacrificing something when that thing has been outdated for ages anyway? More praise is due for parting with that HD flatscreen that is actually enticing.

Franzen is rife with contradictions, and what makes him so endearing to me is his complete willingness to admit them. "At the core of my despondency regarding the novel had been a conflict between a sense that I should Address the Culture and Convey News to the Mainstream, and my inclination to write about the things closest to me, to lose myself in the characters and settings I adored." He is drawn to pen both a Contract novel and the Status novel, a relationship between an author and his reader as opposed to a relationship between the work and the masterpieces of our literary canon. He is both empathetic towards Oprah's capacity to bring literature to television viewers and an "ego-blinded snob" and a complete jerk. He is a smoker who detests it when others smoke. He resents sentimental depictions of himself as the Midwestern author, yet voluntarily offered his own personal space as a set-piece for a phony homecoming.

I delved into this book in search of answers to the questions I posed to him during my reading of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Namely, can a person truly enhance their cultural comprehension and artistic appreciation despite the gun held to their head, compelling them to read? What if it's not a gun; what if it's pizza? (No allusion here to Guernsey - it's Pizza Hut's social charity from the late 90's, I believe...) The deities of commerce desire you to read, and you'll be rewarded - with pizza. Why do the gods of commerce want you to read? Well, it looks good in the advertising space. Eh! It worked for her, so I'm not going to criticize it. Franzen informs us that there are two types of serial readers - those who have or had at least one serial-reading parent and thus learned the habit through imitation, or those who are simply naturally "socially isolated." Not "anti-social," those are the tech-savvy nerds who find refuge in an inanimate world. Social isolates seek community in a fictional world of personalities, either because they lack a real-world community of their own or it doesn't meet their expectations. Okay. So what's happening on Guernsey? No one here has exhibited a serial-reading parent. Is this a group of social isolates? Well, this is a "society," (A group of social isolates doesn't even make sense), they don't feel disconnected from their own community, yet their community has been significantly "cut off" with all these Nazis around. Is the society fleeing the real world for the comforts of the imaginary? If so, I didn't perceive the authors writing it in that manner; most of the characters just seemed to have had a dormant identification with the works of Seneca or Wordsworth, and it wasn't until this experiment that the identifications were unearthed. Really? Sentimental fairy dust, if you ask me, or, probably, if you were to ask Franzen.

So I'm glad I came to this collection in search of answers; I received more answers than I was aware I was seeking. I relished everything Franzen has to say about reading, regardless of how contradictory he presents it. His treatises on post offices, prisons, cigarettes, all interesting, albeit already a bit too dated. His defense of reading difficult fiction, such as Gaddis, is both inspiring and equally off-putting, perhaps the same pleasantly contradictory experience I'll have while reading Freedom.

I have to say that I have some objections to this book of essays. The word that comes to my mind to describe my feeling is "generous", and yet, these essays don't seem very generous to me. I can imagine that writing them might have been cathartic for the author. They do indeed showcase the author's intelligence quite well. However, as I read essay after essay, I constantly found myself waiting for that part where I would understand why I should really care about what I was reading.

Let's take one example that keeps cropping up. The author is fixated on the disappearance of "serious fiction" from the cultural scene. Through multiple essays, using many words and at least ten different lines of thought, he delves into why he, as a successful author, doesn't need to be despondent that his life's work is becoming less relevant to most people, even to those smart and cool individuals he wishes to be admired by. Eventually, he concludes that being a small blip on the cultural radar is okay and doesn't in any way reduce the value of his books compared to those of Flaubert, Dickens, and other authors from more novel-centered eras.

Anyway, if you're a huge fan of Jonathan Franzen, you might want to give this book a look. I liked the corrections just fine, but overall, these essays didn't really do much for me.

Franzen presents a somewhat dark side, yet it is a darkness that is real and palpable, laid out plainly before you in the real world. I have a great appreciation for his explanations, his incorporation of family elements, and his unwavering truthfulness. Maybe his explanations serve as a mirror for me. I had the privilege of reading several of these essays before they were compiled in this book. He truly merits our attention and study. He is infinitely human, and his work is not only readable but also human in its dimension of honesty. I find this aspect of his work both lovable and laudable. He is constantly worried about whether readers will understand his writing, which shows his great care for his audience. He is meticulous with his words, honing them to precisely convey what he wants to express.

I am a teacher, and every day I strive to approach my work with optimism. I tell myself, "Yes, I am going to succeed today. I am going to teach, and they will learn!" Ah, perhaps this is the very reason why I love Franzen. In the morning, I am an optimist, but somewhere in the middle of the day, I seem to exchange my breath and become, like the smoker in one of his essays, a pessimist. Franzen is just like that. He is a writer for those who have the patience to read slowly, think deeply, and ultimately, love the reward of the interchange. You will find yourself thinking about some of these essays for a long time. I gave this book 4 stars because I have read other works of his and felt that this one had a few areas that seemed a bit tentative. In closing, it's worth noting that he was not overly enthusiastic when Oprah chose him. He was content with his little world and his choices. So perfect, so typically Franzen. Dip into this book - you can read an essay here and there, and like a delicious cookie, you don't have to consume the whole box at once.