Tweet the Dust: Celebrate author John Fante tonight at the Hammer

April 7, 2009 at 11:20 am in Books, Entertainment, Fashion

fante_whale

@LAMetblogs Or would he, like @ghidorah76 and many others, find the fastest means to literary poverty is writing in 140 characters or less?

@LAMetblogs Do you think Bandini could get as many followers as @aplusk or @britneyspears or @johncmayer?

@LAMetblogs Imagine what Fante’s literary alter ego Arturo Bandini could have accomplished if only he had signed up for a Twitter account.

@LAMetblogs Wonder how many aspiring writers will be at the Fante event tonight? How many who just can’t resist that siren call of poverty?

@LAMetblogs 3 years ago, Slate ran a great piece on Fante when Towne’s adaptation of “Ask the Dust” hit theaters. http://tinyurl.com/d5dmnt

@LAMetblogs Fante was not recognized in his day. He’s barely recognized now. Charles Bukowski was a fan. Ditto for film scribe Robert Towne.

@LAMetblogs Fante’s work explored poverty, the immigrant experience, and the harsh reality that aspiring writers will face in our city.

@LAMetblogs Tomorrow is LA writer John Fante’s 100th birthday. Tonight, Zocalo at the Hammer will celebrate. http://tinyurl.com/d8lc8b

@LAMetblogs “So fuck you, Los Angeles, fuck your palm trees, and your highassed women, and your fancy streets, for I am going home.” – Fante

Image: Author John Fante and the Fail Whale.

http://whatyouseeiswhatyoueat.wordpress.com queequeg

HA! I loved this.
http://noirbettie.com/blog/ Annika Barranti

Applause, applause!
http://carversdog.wordpress.com/ rodger

I admire Fante and added several of his titles to an L.A. novel curriculum a few years back but for the life of me I never understood Bukowski’s fawning adoration of the man and his work. The biggest stumbling block, for me, is Fante/Bandini’s monstrous, out of control ego. Quite unlike his number one fan, Bukowski, Fante had an insatiable hunger for fame and was, in his later years, toxicly bitter that it didn’t come his way when he was above ground. I came away from my study of Fante wishing he had written more whimsical and grounded pieces like the hilarious and touching My Dog Stupid. But the man deserves props for making the L.A. novel a viable literary genre when the east coast fops were denying that such a mythical creature existed.