Nonfiction by Joshua Furst
Articles for the Jewish Daily Forward by Joshua Furst:
"Sleeps a Man."
Outside the Edifício Copan sleeps a man.
On the steps of a church across from Praça Princesa Isabel, sleeps a man.
"The Other Protest."
By Gordon Haber and Joshua Furst.
Killing The Buddha.
Not all the marches in Israel this month ignored the occupation. It was almost 2 p.m. on July 15th and there was an atmosphere of tense expectation at the Jaffa Gate, with perhaps a thousand people gathered in the narrow plaza. The sun was blistering and the flagstones were radiating heat. Within the milling scrum, Israeli hippies and hipsters, with a sprinkling of grizzled, ex-kibbutznik-types and gentle-looking professors with beards, jockeyed for position.
"Product Displacement: A Manifesto."
Mischief and Mayhem.
For decades now—since I was ten, and through a series of improbable happenstances, found myself cast as the Boy in a college production of Waiting for Godot—I’ve been a believer in the possibilities, the value, the uses of art. Catharsis and contemplation. Emotional, existential recognition. The transformations and radicalizations, philosophical, political, all that. Our shared humanity, blah, blah, blah.
"Jonathan Franzen's Jewish Riddle."
Mischief and Mayhem.
I’m not here to coronate. Jonathan Franzen has written another Franzen-ish book and it’s everything you’d assume it would be: a multi-generational morality tale playing heavily on the big topics that have consumed so many of the past decade’s news cycles; a realist story told from multiple points of view with just enough stylish flourish to elevate its prose above that of all those other flatly realist stories clogging the bookstore shelves week after week; a wry yet precisely wrought examination of how the American upper-middle class experiences our present world. Freedom, the omnipresent new novel of which I speak, is, on the evidence, exactly the book Franzen set out to write.
Joshua Furst interviews Geoff Dyer.
Joshua Furst interviews Jonathan Ames.
"Down in the Dumpster."
"The Minute Fluctuations."
John Updike has held an unreasonably large place in my conception of myself as a writer. He, more than any other writer in the pantheon, stood for everything I opposed in fiction. This had little to do with his celebrated and reviled misogyny or his endless fascination with himself.
"A Year in Reading: Joshua Furst."
"The Noble Beast: Joshua Furst on the courage of Norman Mailer."
One of Norman Mailer’s great subjects—as the headline of his New York Times obituary so hostilely noted—was his ego. His ego and its discontents. This led, naturally, to an inconsistency in the work he produced—a sometimes embarrassing grandiosity, a sense that he was in love with his public platform and testing the limits of what it would withstand—that left him open to legions of jeers, scoffs and dismissive chuckles. What people often forget about him, though, is that despite—or maybe because of—his misses, when he did hit his punches landed with great force.
"A Font of Inspiration."
"Requiem For a Regular."
Mr Belle'rs Neighborhood.
We called him Broadway Johnny, and as far as I know, none of us ever learned his last name.