Lidia Yuknavitch
Author of The Book of Joan
About the Author
Lidia Yuknavitch teaches fiction writing and literature in Oregon
Works by Lidia Yuknavitch
Letter to My Rage: An Evolution 3 copies
Associated Works
Dispatches from Anarres: Tales in Tribute to Ursula K. Le Guin: Tales in Tribute to Ursula K. Le Guin (2021) — Contributor — 24 copies
Get Out of My Crotch! Twenty-One Writers Respond to America's War on Women's Rights and Reproductive Health (2013) — Contributor — 10 copies
Wreckage of Reason: An Anthology of Contemporary Xxperimental Prose by Women Writers (2008) — Contributor — 6 copies
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Canonical name
- Yuknavitch, Lidia
- Birthdate
- 1963-06-18
- Gender
- female
- Nationality
- USA
- Birthplace
- San Francisco, California, USA
- Places of residence
- Portland, Oregon, USA
Eugene, Oregon, USA
Florida, USA - Education
- University of Oregon
- Occupations
- writer
teacher
editor - Organizations
- Eastern Oregon University
- Awards and honors
- PNBA Award (2012)
Members
Reviews
Lists
Awards
You May Also Like
Associated Authors
Statistics
- Works
- 18
- Also by
- 8
- Members
- 1,855
- Popularity
- #13,874
- Rating
- 3.5
- Reviews
- 93
- ISBNs
- 82
- Languages
- 5
- Favorited
- 7
- Touchstones
- 43
This is an ugly book.
It grabs at you, it pulls you under, it makes you gradually want to hate even more about your life.
Masterfully done, but I don’t know that I need to read more about prostitutes or banal sex involving various spurtings to transport me. I wonder if any artist can be so without a series of years in addictions of one sort or another. From my white bread world, lacking in abusive childhood or molested present, not addicted to anything except maybe chocolate, it makes me despair of ever having anything interesting to say. Privilege is so boring.
So I stopped partway through. There is so much ugliness in the world today I feel the need for redemption instead- not the sugar-pasty redemption of feel good poetry or maxims, but maybe, maybe, a tale of a life that wasn’t so grim as to break ones knees on the floor. Can’t there ever be a glimmer of light, somewhere?… (more)