Saturday, March 05, 2005

What Happened to Lee Klein?

It's good to see a letter from former friendly antagonist Lee Klein up on the Moby lit site. Lee the loveable lunkhead literary Lothario conquerer of lit-babes throughout Manhattan is now plying his trade in Iowa. Writing, that is.

I first met Lee at an infamously dull Firecracker Alternative Book Awards gathering a few years back. Lee was supposed to throw me through the mirror behind the bar-- had announced to the world he would do so-- but when we met we started drinking and talking and forgot about it. Which was a shame-- it would've added needed life to the party.

Now we know why Foetry is anonymous! They apparently have no desire to meet the oft-rampaging Lee Klein. But it takes all the fun out of things, doesn't it?

The last time I saw Lee I was up in Manhattan for something, walking to the subway, when there passing on a street corner at exactly the same time in the giant city of ten million people was Lee Klein. Lee was returning from an informal workshop held in the swanky digs of a billionaire chick writer whose father owns some magazines. (Why Lee needs to attend Iowa is beyond me.) We stopped at the first nearby bar and knocked down many many many brews as I recall while discussing important literary matters, women writers, and other things. Now Lee's the big man on campus in Iowa. Defender of the literati! I hereby volunteer to promote any upcoming match between Lee and the ghosts at Foetry. It could be exciting, if they'd allow it to be!

3 comments:

Tim Hall said...

Whew, thank G-d he's in Iowa...the way he used to strut and preen you'da thunk he had some fire or originality or something. Just another baa baa Mighty Fine Artiste-in-training.

btw, was that the Firecrackers when hardbound, gilt-edged, printed-in-Iceland, replete-with-They Might Be Giants-soundtrack CD, McSweeney's won for "best zine"?

btw2, I actually met you that day you were going to the firecrackers, I was at that loudmouth reading or something in the E. vill., we sat in the backyard with Hoff I think. And I think I actually read something, but I don't remember.

Adam Hardin said...

I have had two run-ins with Mr. Klein("small" in the German Language).

Mr. Klein had on his submission page, a bullet point that trashed Bukowski, and writers like Bukowski, and so while I see his point, that many bad writers simply try to write like Bukowski, it does not mean Bukowski is no less of a great poet, and I don't see why this point was not made. He first altered the submission page after I wrote him , and included something about those who like Bukowski should take their dick and put in through their DVD copy of Barfly. Then some while ago, he completely removed the entire bullet-point about Bukowski.The first run-in was where I criticized his work "egocentric tour..." because it was the worst of the rambling write for yourself postmodern garbage that has been plaguing American Literature.

I am not suprised he got into Iowa because his writing is derivative(Eggers + Foster Wallace) enough to please any MFA professor, and he has made many contacts through his website, and those two things are key to getting in.

Anonymous said...

From Noah Cicero

I was thinking about Bukowski the other day concerning my writing. My style like the way the paragraphs, sentences, and format are writen my influences are Proust, Beckett and some Kerouac. But the content resembles Bukowski's. I think a lot of people don't imitate Bukowksi, but Bukowski really hit upon what it means to be a working or lower class person in America. if your family or you don't make above 80 thousand year, your content is going to resemble Bukowski's. I assume a lot of people of the upper classes are afraid of Bukowski's content not his writing. His format is just Hemingway's with different content. Bukowski didn't do anything for writing style, he just did what Hemingway did but with his own life.
If you shit on Bukowski then you are shitting on Hemingway, and if you are shitting on Hemingway then you need your face kicked in. and if you are shitting on Hemingway, you are shitting Twain, and you need to be castrated.