Salon.com > Dave Eggers http://www.salon.com Sun, 27 May 2012 00:00:00 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.2.1 Remembering an inspiring teacher http://www.salon.com/2011/08/01/dave_eggers_teacher_memory/ http://www.salon.com/2011/08/01/dave_eggers_teacher_memory/#comments Mon, 01 Aug 2011 20:01:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/life//feature/2011/08/01/dave_eggers_teacher_memory About two months ago, we lost a great man. His name was Jay Criche, and he was a teacher.

He taught English for 30 years, 23 of them at Lake Forest High School. For most of that time, he was the head of the department, and he looked the part. He wore tweed sport coats most of the year, in weather cold or warm, and if I remember correctly, there were suede elbow patches on these sport coats. He wore small wire-framed glasses, a thick mustache, and his hair was dark, dusted with gray. He had a scholarly air because that's what he was, a scholar. His lessons, delivered from a seemingly ancient wooden podium, were Socratic in nature, the students peppered with questions, his expectations high, his mind open and wanting to be surprised.

I took his course when I was a junior, and the first book we read was "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." In those first few weeks, he showed us a caricature of James Joyce from the New York Review of Books. In it, Joyce's hands were rendered large, cupped and moving, as if paddling through water. Mr. Criche asked if anyone knew why the artist had depicted Joyce that way, and I raised my hand. "Is he swimming through a stream of consciousness?"

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2011/08/01/dave_eggers_teacher_memory/feed/ 29 Kurt’s canon http://www.salon.com/2007/04/12/eggers_on_vonnegut/ http://www.salon.com/2007/04/12/eggers_on_vonnegut/#comments Thu, 12 Apr 2007 19:20:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2007/04/12/eggers_on_vonnegut Vonnegut, Kurt, Jr. 1922-2007

b. Indianapolis, Indiana

FICTION: Player Piano (1952), The Sirens of Titan (1959), Cat's Cradle (1963), God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater; or, Pearls Before Swine (1965), Mother Night (1966), Welcome to the Monkey House (stories, 1968), *Slaughterhouse Five; or the Children's Crusade: A Dance with Death (1969), Breakfast of Champions; or, Goodbye Blue Monday (1973), Slapstick, or Lonesome No More (1976), Jailbird (1979), Deadeye Dick (1982), GalapC!gos (1985), Bluebeard (1987), Hocus Pocus (1990), Timequake (1997), Bagombo Snuff Box (stories, 1999)

Kurt Vonnegut is one of the few writers in this guide that I can be sure that everyone has already read (unless "everyone" includes people who cannot read, or do not read, or are very young, or speak a language into which his work as not been translated). So. Vonnegut is a science fiction aficionado, WWII vet, lover of women, pitier of the poor, cranky luddite, fun-loving doomsayer, sometime postmodernist. His books -- very personal novels disguised as allegories disguised as science fiction -- nearly always take the entire world (or more) as their canvas. Usually there is a world war, or some catastrophic event, or often genocide, or a scientific or political innovation that threatens to, or has succeeded in, destroying all that we hold dear.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2007/04/12/eggers_on_vonnegut/feed/ 27 “What Is the What” http://www.salon.com/2006/12/13/valentino_excerpt/ http://www.salon.com/2006/12/13/valentino_excerpt/#comments Wed, 13 Dec 2006 13:00:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/awards/2006/12/13/valentino_excerpt I have no reason not to answer the door so I answer the door. I have no tiny round window to inspect visitors so I open the door and before me is a tall, sturdily built African-American woman, a few years older than me, wearing a red nylon sweatsuit. She speaks to me loudly. "You have a phone, sir?"

She looks familiar. I am almost certain that I saw her in the parking lot an hour ago, when I returned from the convenience store. I saw her standing by the stairs, and I smiled at her. I tell her that I do have a phone.

"My car broke down on the street," she says. Behind her, it is nearly night. I have been studying most of the afternoon. "Can you let me use your phone to call the police?" she asks.

I do not know why she wants to call the police for a car in need of repair, but I consent. She steps inside. I begin to close the door but she holds it open. "I'll just be a second," she says. It does not make sense to me to leave the door open but I do so because she desires it. This is her country and not yet mine.

"Where's the phone?" she asks.

I tell her my cell phone is in my bedroom. Before I finish the sentence, she has rushed past me and down the hall, a hulk of swishing nylon. The door to my room closes, then clicks. She has locked herself in my bedroom. I start to follow her when I hear a voice behind me.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2006/12/13/valentino_excerpt/feed/ 2 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/08/03/eggers_36/ http://www.salon.com/2004/08/03/eggers_36/#comments Tue, 03 Aug 2004 21:58:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/08/03/eggers As Rob Jones awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a giant ... Well, what the hell was that thing, anyway? He hadn't grown, size-wise, in any discernible way, but there was certainly something like -- like another face sticking out of his left pectoral. Rob Jones looked down at his chest and from his chest another face, just like his, was looking up at him, grinning like a knife salesman. After a second, the chest-face winked at him.

Rob Jones sprang from his bed and walked to the full-length mirror he insisted upon in any hotel. And in this mirror he saw the face, exactly like his own, though frozen in a perpetual grin, as if he'd just heard a mildly amusing joke told by very attractive woman. The grin was the sort known in the South as "shit eating," and though it appeared natural enough, the face on Rob Jones' chest did not break from this expression nor appeared able to form any other. The one and only possible deviation from this grin seemed to be an occasional wink, which the chest-face did with his left eye, in a way that seemed quite practiced and completely insincere.

At the very moment Rob Jones began to form a prayer that the chest-face lacked the power of speech, the chest-face spoke.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/08/03/eggers_36/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/07/29/eggers_35/ http://www.salon.com/2004/07/29/eggers_35/#comments Thu, 29 Jul 2004 20:00:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/07/29/eggers Debbie Delaware, J. Junior Inferior Jr.'s senior advisor for the campaign and special projects, found him in his study. She had bad news, and knew that Junior did not like bad news just shoved into his face.

He didn't want to read it in a newspaper or see it on TV. He didn't want to hear it over the phone or see it on a fax. He wanted to hear it faintly, as if it were an orphan, hooded and scared, wandering through the woods toward him. As if it were an echo of an echo, something vague and possibly not real. That way he could ignore it if he chose to.

Debbie Delaware found a place across the room and behind a loveseat. She crouched down and spoke as if she were the loveseat, as if the loveseat could speak. And she did so in a Chinese accent, for this cracked Junior up and made the bad news go down easier.

"Sah?"

"Yes, Debbie-san?"

He was already chuckling.

"I have-a some-a in-fo-ma-shun about duh campaign."

"Oh?" His voice had already been drained of some of his mirth.

"It-uh, not so good, sah."

"Really?"

"No-suh. Not so good at all, sah."

"Why? Do we know?"

"Welr, ah..."

"You can talk normally, Debbie. I feel strong today."

Debbie got up from behind the loveseat and walked over to the president and sat on a chair. Her knees ached.

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/07/29/eggers_35/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/07/27/eggers_34/ http://www.salon.com/2004/07/27/eggers_34/#comments Tue, 27 Jul 2004 20:00:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/07/27/eggers "It's likely a very influential group," said Peter-Marty Pipinic, Dick Benjamin's scheduler. They were parking in a mini-mall in a suburb of Nashua. The air was colder than it had ever been anywhere on earth at any time before.

"They sound influential," Dick said. "What are they called again?"

"The Senior Women's Center for Democracy and Revolution."

"What was that last part?"

"'And Revolution.'"

"Oh. Good. Good."

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/07/27/eggers_34/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/07/22/eggers_33/ http://www.salon.com/2004/07/22/eggers_33/#comments Thu, 22 Jul 2004 20:00:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/07/22/eggers Now that Dick Benjamin's brain had been deemed, by a reputable Web site, a certifiable supercomputer-like force, he was developing theories. He had always had his theories -- like for instance, isn't "Planet of the Apes" just one long and tiresome anti-Semitic rant? -- but now his theories seemed more crucial, more likely to change the direction of the earth and the lives of its people.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/07/22/eggers_33/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/07/15/eggers_32/ http://www.salon.com/2004/07/15/eggers_32/#comments Thu, 15 Jul 2004 20:00:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/07/15/eggers "I stand here before my country and before God," he began, pushing his notes aside. "And most of all, I stand here before Jesus Christ."

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/07/15/eggers_32/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/07/13/eggers_31/ http://www.salon.com/2004/07/13/eggers_31/#comments Tue, 13 Jul 2004 20:00:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/07/13/eggers Inside, the candidates had finished the slow lifting of their heads from prayer, and it was time for Carol O'Mealy's opening statement. She was wearing a red suit, red lipstick and enough mascara and eye shadow for many young Goth enthusiasts. When she took a breath and raised her chin, about to speak, she looked eerily like the "Like a Virgin"-era Madonna, which was the effect her makeup artist, a Texan named Houston Alamo, was hoping for. Houston Alamo, whose real name was Dallas Alamo, was raised by Mormons and had been in the Navy. Carol O'Mealy only worked with men who had been in the Navy.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/07/13/eggers_31/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/06/23/eggers_30/ http://www.salon.com/2004/06/23/eggers_30/#comments Wed, 23 Jun 2004 20:00:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/06/23/eggers It was Alexander Washington Hamilton's turn first. He had three minutes for his opening remarks, and as he was introduced, he adjusted his lapels and microphone, fixing his eyes on some indeterminate space near his stomach. When the red light on his podium glared, he raised his head and slowly looked into the audience -- handpicked, much like a jury by the respective staffs of the candidates -- and he cleared his throat. He opened his mouth, then seemed to change courses, deciding at the last moment to address what was going on just outside the hotel.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/06/23/eggers_30/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/06/16/eggers_29/ http://www.salon.com/2004/06/16/eggers_29/#comments Wed, 16 Jun 2004 21:48:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/06/16/eggers The plane was pleasantly cacophonous. The noise was incredible, crowding out all thought and order. J. Junior Inferior Sr. loved it. He was sitting in the plane, on the floor, knees up as if in a toboggan. Behind him was Tripp Montana, distant cousin of Joe and Inferior Senior's three-time sky-diving partner.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/06/16/eggers_29/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/06/11/eggers_28/ http://www.salon.com/2004/06/11/eggers_28/#comments Fri, 11 Jun 2004 22:02:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/06/11/eggers "Sir, you really don't need to do this."

The former president was silent.

His assistant, Ramona Ramone, had only 20 minutes remaining in which to talk him out of this latest piece of performance art. They were traveling in the back of a black Explorer, the gigantic vehicle's tires spitting gravel left and right.

"People were impressed last time you did it," Ramona chirped. "They were impressed like crazy."

The former president was looking out the window. He seemed so gentle, Ramona thought. So much at peace. So wise! Or perhaps not wise. What was the word she was looking for?

Old. He was quite old. She wanted to place her hand on his hands, folded together in his lap like two wilted sea creatures. They looked ancient, his hands, pink and blue and rubbery and yet fragile enough to cleave to the touch.

"You've got nothing to prove to anyone, sir," she tried.

The president said nothing.

"I know you were disappointed in the press coverage last time, and the time before that, but I can say that personally, I know at least a dozen people who were really stunned by your courage. I have e-mails to prove it! I saved a voice-mail message, too. From my college roommate Firoozeh. She was blown away, sir."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/06/11/eggers_28/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/05/26/eggers_27/ http://www.salon.com/2004/05/26/eggers_27/#comments Wed, 26 May 2004 22:51:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/05/26/eggers Victoria Passionately took a bus back to her hotel, and by the time she settled in, it was 10 o'clock, time for the local news. She sat on the edge of her bed, rum-spiked Dr Pepper in hand, trying to forget the day, forget her failings, not expecting to see her face on the screen, wanting only to drink herself to sleep. Of course, the day before, she fully did expect to see her face on the screen at this point, on every screen and on the cover of every newspaper, lionized as the brave wrench throwing herself into the endlessly squealing and crushing machinery of the American president-selection process. Something like that.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/05/26/eggers_27/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/05/20/eggers_26/ http://www.salon.com/2004/05/20/eggers_26/#comments Thu, 20 May 2004 19:50:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/05/20/eggers "Liar!" she yelled.

In her mind she yelled this to J. Junior Inferior, yelled it with the force of a hurricane, or a very big wave or some other kind of powerful force of nature. Perhaps a tsunami. In the ten seconds Victoria Passionately buried her face in her Reporter's Notebook and searched for the right words to say, she envisioned herself screaming "Liar!" a dozen times in the face of the president. Each time she would say the word, his face would shrink a bit more, as if she were a jungle head-shrinker of some kind, and this word, "Liar," was the agent with which she would perform her magic. Ha ha! she thought. He'd look so stupid with a tiny little head! Awesome.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/05/20/eggers_26/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/05/19/eggers_25/ http://www.salon.com/2004/05/19/eggers_25/#comments Wed, 19 May 2004 21:10:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/05/19/eggers Two hours later, Victoria Passionately was inside. She was standing at the back of the room, next to a riser supporting a phalanx of TV cameras pointing at the president and Javiar Johnson-Marias very much like weaponry. It makes an easy analogy to say that TV cameras look combative but they really do. Even if they were not attached to an aggressive medium -- the media -- they would still look belligerent.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/05/19/eggers_25/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/05/13/eggers_24/ http://www.salon.com/2004/05/13/eggers_24/#comments Thu, 13 May 2004 22:49:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/05/13/eggers Victoria Passionately had not slept well. The previous night she'd had a glass of fruity chardonnay and a Tylenol PM, but still she hadn't fallen asleep till 3, and she'd been up since 6 a.m., when she'd needed to get up to drain the wine from her bladder. After that, getting back to sleep was impossible, her head following a dozen different paths, all of them leading to and away from the event this afternoon, when she would push the entire presidential campaign and American history in a new direction, would send J. Junior Inferior back to his home state, licking his wounds and ruing the day Victoria Passionately was born.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/05/13/eggers_24/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/05/06/eggers_23/ http://www.salon.com/2004/05/06/eggers_23/#comments Thu, 06 May 2004 23:34:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/05/06/eggers Emboldened and crestfallen by the power available to her, Teresa sat in her chair, in the Kapucinski regional HQ, and pondered her next move.

And again she thought of Gerald Matsui. He had freckles, didn't he? That was unusual for an Asian man. But why? Why not freckles in that part of the world? And why so little facial hair? She needed to get online and find some answers...

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/05/06/eggers_23/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/04/29/eggers_22/ http://www.salon.com/2004/04/29/eggers_22/#comments Thu, 29 Apr 2004 17:33:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/04/29/eggers Carol O'Mealy was pouting like a bitch. She was pouting like a bitch because this is what the photographer, Emmanuel D'Souza, was demanding of her, and the only thing Carol O'Mealy liked better than pouting like a bitch was being told to pout like a bitch by a man wearing leather pants and a scarf for a belt. And she liked it even more when the pout-demander was a stallion like Emmanuel, a swarthy stallion like ... or more like a panther, come to think of it, Emmanuel was a strong and lean panther, all sinew and stealth, soft paws and dangerous claws. Carol O'Mealy liked her men forceful and big-cat-like and swarthy, as long as they weren't overly ethnic-looking or stupid or French. Emmanuel would do just fine -- she would give him a try later tonight, use that new chair she'd bought, and find a use for that scarf of his, but for now she wanted to give him a taste of the perfectly honed attitude that awaited him if he dared and if she could get her husband, Marshall, out of the house for a few hours. She pouted the bitchiest pout she could muster.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/04/29/eggers_22/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/04/23/eggers_21/ http://www.salon.com/2004/04/23/eggers_21/#comments Fri, 23 Apr 2004 22:20:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/04/23/eggers Teresa Santiago, somewhat disillusioned by the workings of the Kapucinski campaign, was now sitting in the backroom at the Rob Jones regional headquarters, looking into the too-blue eyes of Gerald Vidisson, listening to him explain the job he wanted her to do, while also thinking of her junior prom.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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]]> http://www.salon.com/2004/04/23/eggers_21/feed/ 0 New Hampshire Is for Lovers http://www.salon.com/2004/04/21/eggers_20/ http://www.salon.com/2004/04/21/eggers_20/#comments Wed, 21 Apr 2004 17:00:00 +0000 http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2004/04/21/eggers Dick Benjamin had a problem. He was really goddamned smart -- just mind-bogglingly smart to the point where people would spit out their food or drinks if they heard about just how smart he was -- but no one knew it. He asked his wife, Donna, what she thought about the problem.

The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."

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