“Unlikely”
because David was an academic and a critic, and I am not. Emotionally, he was
wound tighter than me. He made more noise and was more digitally savvy. His
mind was more analytical. He was politically engaged in ways I could never be. He
was an Orthodox Jew and I remain a spiritual independent. But we shared a love
of family, friends, books, movies, good writing and literary tradition.
David
had a goatish appetite for contemporary fiction, one I hadn’t shared since my
twenties. He was forever conjuring projects, and one of his earliest was “Best
American fiction, 1968–1998.” It started with his blog post, followed by my response three days later. Then David merged the lists. Follow the links to enjoy
the ensuing shit storm of self-righteousness. David helped open my eyes to the
ignorance and hatred that often passes for discourse in the bookish precincts
of the blogosphere.
David
was a rabble-rouser and pot-stirrer, but he surprised me by taking seriously the
negative comments and ad hominem
assaults of people he didn’t respect. Everyone understands that the internet is
a democracy accessible to any moron with an opinion. Most comments say nothing
about the nominal matter at hand. They are all about puffing up the commenter,
and are seldom worthy of attention. David always had to respond. For this
reason, especially in his final year, he relied heavily on Twitter.
Today
is David’s Yahrzeit. The cancer he documented dispassionately but with feeling
killed him on Sept. 26, 2014, and the world still seems like a less interesting
place. In September 2009, again at his
urging, we organized a symposium, “The Function of Book Blogging at the Present Time.” In the fourteenth and final installment, David has his say. He writes
about himself when writing about all of us, and calls for “. . . book bloggers
who are committed to argument—who are sworn to defend the books they cherish
from those who would make a hash of them, who understand that the literary
heritage can be lost, as most of Sappho’s poetry was lost, when it ceases to be
valued.”
We
are fortunate that David’s family has preserved A Commonplace Blog. If a young
person were to read it and follows the links, he or she would possess the rudiments
of a first-rate literary education. They too could learn "the secret handshake that passes between those who have spent a life among books.”
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