Originally Posted by Frownland (Post 1757508)

Not James Joyce
Not W.G. Sebald
Not Haruki Murakami
Not David Foster Wallace

But Bob ****ing Dylan. Did they do a merger with the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame or something?

Originally Posted by David Foster Wallace

If what's always distinguished bad writing--flat characters, a narrative world that's clichéd and not recognizably human, etc.--is also a description of today's world, then bad writing becomes an ingenious mimesis of a bad world. If readers simply believe the world is stupid and shallow and mean, then [Bret] Ellis can write a mean shallow stupid novel that becomes a mordant deadpan commentary on the badness of everything. Look man, we'd probably most of us agree that these are dark times, and stupid ones, but do we need fiction that does nothing but dramatize how dark and stupid everything is? In dark times, the definition of good art would seem to be art that locates and applies CPR to those elements of what's human and magical that still live and glow despite the times' darkness. Really good fiction could have as dark a worldview as it wished, but it'd find a way both to depict this world and to illuminate the possibilities for being alive and human in it.

Postmodern irony and cynicism's become an end in itself, a measure of hip sophistication and literary savvy. Few artists dare to try to talk about ways of working toward redeeming what's wrong, because they'll look sentimental and naive to all the weary ironists. Irony's gone from liberating to enslaving. There's some great essay somewhere that has a line about irony being the song of the prisoner who's come to love his cage… The postmodern founders' patricidal work was great, but patricide produces orphans, and no amount of revelry can make up for the fact that writers my age have been literary orphans throughout our formative years.

We enter a spiritual puberty where we snap to the fact that the great transcendent horror is loneliness, excluded encagement in the self. Once we’ve hit this age, we will now give or take anything, wear any mask, to fit, be part-of, not be Alone, we young. The U.S. arts are our guide to inclusion. A how-to. We are shown how to fashion masks of ennui and jaded irony at a young age where the face is fictile enough to assume the shape of whatever it wears. And then it’s stuck there, the weary cynicism that saves us from gooey sentiment and unsophisticated naïveté. Sentiment equals naïveté on this continent.

You burn with hunger for food that does not exist.

A U. S. of modern A. where the State is not a team or a code, but a sort of sloppy intersection of desires and fears, where the only public consensus a boy must surrender to is the acknowledged primacy of straight-line pursuing this flat and short-sighted idea of personal happiness.

Originally Posted by Chula Vista (Post 1757532)

The Nobel awards are always debatable. But I think this is well deserved based on how they described why they decided to give it to him.

Originally Posted by Frownland (Post 1757534)

I can see where they're coming from but there are much more deserving people.

Plus, Homer did it first.

Originally Posted by grindy (Post 1757573)

Now I imagine you googling Putnam expecting a legitimate author. :D

Originally Posted by Lisnaholic (Post 1757553)

I respect the Nobel Prizes for science, because that's where they started out, didn't they?

Originally Posted by Chula Vista (Post 1757526)

Pretty damn good stuff I'd say. Dylan certainly fits the definition of literature.
Written works, especially those considered of superior or lasting artistic merit.

'Twas in another lifetime one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue, the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness a creature void of form
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

And if I pass this way again you can rest assured
I'll always do my best for her on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death and men who are fighting to be warm
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Not a word was spoke between us there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved
Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

I was burned out from exhaustion buried in the hail
Poisoned in the bushes and blown out on the trail
Hunted like a crocodile ravaged in the corn
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Suddenly I turned around and she was standing there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Now there's a wall between us something there's been lost
I took too much for granted, I got my signals crossed
Just to think that it all began on an uneventful morn
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Well the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much it's doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker he blows a futile horn
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

I've heard newborn babies wailing like a mourning dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love
Do I understand your question man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

In a little hilltop village they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation and she gave me a lethal dose
I offered up my innocence, I got repaid with scorn
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Well I'm living in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor's edge someday I'll make it mine
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Originally Posted by OccultHawk (Post 1758291)

That's a word that most fans will agree does NOT apply.

Wiggle wiggle.

I do agree that despite the absolute garbage he mixes in with his genius he had to be given this prize. If not, decades after his death it would become more and more apparent that they ignored the man whose words were the most deeply woven into the fabric of the language of his time. What they need to do is to stop giving the peace prize to war criminals.

Originally Posted by grindy (Post 1758294)

Blowing In The Wind is such a ****ing terrible song that even if I loved his other stuff (I don't), I'd be 100% against him getting the prize.

Originally Posted by Lilja (Post 1758221)

There was always awards for the five categories (peace, physics, literature, medicine, and chemistry...later a related one in Economics). Alfred Nobel started it since when his brother died, his obituary was accidentaly printed and he was essentially known as the "Merchant of Death" (being the inventor of dynamite and all). So he wanted to improve his legacy..hence the awards he created.

Originally Posted by Lonesome Hobo (Post 1758287)

Well deserved award. There's more to Bob Dylan than 'Blowin' in the Wind' and 'The Times They Are A Changin''. Pains me when he's mentioned on the news and radio, and these seem to be the only tunes they mention.
They should sit down with a copy of Oh Mercy, Blood On The Tracks, John Wesley Harding. He's consistently released albums for over 50 years, with lyrics that very few can even come close to.

Originally Posted by OccultHawk (Post 1758297)

I think it's an incredible song. Astonishing that it even has an author as it feels like it evolved from the earth as a part of nature.

Originally Posted by OccultHawk (Post 1760939)

https://www.theguardian.com/music/20...academy-member

Bob Dylan criticised as 'impolite and arrogant' by Nobel academy member

Haha that's even funnier than not accepting it

Just ignoring it like it's not even worth a minute of your time either way