An Announcement and an Apology
My next book, a nice column by one of my dilettante brothers, and a promise of columns yet to come
I had intended today’s column to be the first of a linked series of Roland dialogues, but something went amiss with iCloud and the finished version was overwritten by an earlier unfinished version, so now I must reconstruct what I lost. In a day or less I shall instead post a Q & A installment. Perhaps the second version of the piece I intended will be better than the first. Here I thought I might post a couple of announcements.
First, my next book will be in print in July, but it may now be—if you are so disposed—“pre-ordered” (which is a term nearly as annoying as “pre-planned,” since by definition both orders and plans are made in advance, and so the “pre-”-fix there seems quite superfluous—although it did give me an opportunity for that overly precious three-way pun). If nothing else, one can make a note of the release date now. This is not, by the way—lest anyone feels the need to ask—the book on philosophy of mind, which will appear a few months later in the Yale University Press fall catalogue. This one is a collection of stories from University of Notre Dame Press (it turns out they have a fiction line and I had not even noticed). Here is the cover:
The softcover version is priced at $25, but UNDP very kindly consented to halve their normal “library-scale” price for the hardcover (which is usually $100), since some readers prefer texts of a literary nature in a more durable form. Admittedly, $50 is still high enough, but it is an improvement. It is, of course, available at both Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
One of the pleasant aspects of working with UNDP, by the way, is that their design department allows authors to collaborate on the cover image. I chose the Berthe Morisot painting they used, of which I am very fond, though I had no hand in the clever “prismated” version they ultimately produced. The image happens to correspond rather nicely to a tale in the volume entitled “Thresholds,” you see. Another Morisot canvas also occurred to me, the one called Psyché:
I am very fond of that one too. I especially like the way in which the sunlight pouring in through the lace curtains lights up the satin or moiré or whatever it is of the settee. But the other image is closer to the action of the story.
Anyway, here is the UNDP site’s description (which is not what I would have written about it, but only because it would mark me out as an insufferable egotist were I to do so, and I am trying to hide that aspect of my character):
From one of the most-read religious and philosophical scholars in the United States comes a collection of creative, thought-provoking fables.
Alongside David Bentley Hart’s widely read work in philosophy, theology, and religious studies there has always been the other side of his writing—the fiction, poetry, and literary essays—which has often enjoyed a separate, if equally appreciative, readership. In this his most recent book, these two worlds draw near to one another in a new way.
In Prisms, Veils: A Book of Fables, Hart explores the elusive nature of dreams and the enduring power of mythologies. Moving over themes ranging from the beauty of the natural world to the very nature of consciousness itself, each narrative is threaded through with Hart’s deep religious, cultural, and historical knowledge, drawing readers into an expertly woven tapestry of diverse allusions and deep meaning.
Prisms, Veils will appeal to fans of Hart’s work, philosophers, theologians, and general readers of fiction. The collection affords a unique opportunity to engage with the creative side of Hart, its pages sparkling with bright gems of short fiction that are enchanting, thought-provoking, and imbued with spiritual truth.
Then there are a few endorsements (for which I am quite grateful):
“With perfect pitch for nature’s colors and tones, equally successful speaking as man, woman, faery, or bard, these mesmerizing tales all manage to become love stories in the shadow of capricious gods. Again David Bentley Hart reveals himself as a wondrous hybrid of creative writer, theologian, and channeler of world cultures. Gorgeous learning experiences for body and spirit.” —Caryl Emerson, author of All the Same the Words Don't Go Away
“Limpid and strange, teasing and discomforting, enlightening and mysterious, Prisms, Veils is a wholly captivating sequence that probes at the very form of fiction. David Bentley Hart reminds us that not all fables offer themselves up to be reassuringly decoded, to instruct, let alone to moralize. In his hands they leave us less, not more, certain—and the richer for it.” —China Miéville, author of The City & The City and A Spectre, Haunting
“This collection is a treasure trove of gems: sparkling, amusing, thought-provoking, unnerving, but always entertaining and profound. I spent some time trying to come up with a comparable short storyist and found myself somewhat flummoxed. Sometimes it is Tolstoy that comes to mind; sometimes it is Saki. There are stories by E. M. Forster, particularly those with a classical theme, that offered comparison. The closest I can suggest are two of my own favorite writers, Sylvia Townsend Warner and Jorge Luis Borges.” —Salley Vickers, author of The Other Side of You and The Gardener
“David Bentley Hart is one of the finest writers now writing in English. . . . Hart’s mastery is evident not only in the conception and shape of a given story but in the gorgeous sentences that lead us unerringly to its denouement. Though the veil of mystery he weaves is never entirely lifted, there is at the same time a passion for clarity that, in satisfying us aesthetically, enables us to probe ever more deeply.” —Henry Weinfield, author of An Alphabet and The Labyrinth of Love
“Hart is our Borges, our chronicler of the liminal and crepuscular, our game theorist, our puzzle-maker. There seems to be nothing he hasn’t read or hasn’t hidden in these curiously maximalist miniatures. Pay careful attention as their winds blow out to sea; there are far more than spiders riding on them.” —Trent Pomplun, author of Jesuit on the Roof of the World
"This collection of philosophical parables, modern day myths and metaphysical yarns, infused with a passion for humanity and love of nature, celebrate the moments when our lives are ennobled by something we were not looking for, but should have known was there. In a manner reminiscent of Borges, but with the confidence that divine mystery can (at least in part) be known to us, David Bentley Hart demonstrates that while reality can fall short of the visions of perfection it inspires in us, the answers to its most precious and elusive riddles are gloriously manifest in our own lives.”—Tariq Goddard, author of High John the Conqueror
"Whether he’s adding a satyr-play to the end of The Tempest or wandering through labyrinths, David Bentley Hart reminds one of Borges, but a Borges who has read Borges and found him to have been rather too influenced by Pierre Menard. Which is to say that Prisms, Veils is up to date in its belatedness, a vast memory palace stocked with madeleines, “Gothic here, Byzantine there, Baroque somewhere else.” Don't bother dropping bread crumbs as you peruse these fables—you don’t want to find your way back out." —Michael Robbins, author of Walkman
"Written by moonlight with quicksilver ink, these fables (some might call them parables, or simply tales) of David Bentley Hart may remind the reader of Wilde and Stevenson, of Kafka and Borges. They have a luxurious grace and leisurely pace that would satisfy a nineteenth-century aesthete, and yet they are deeply satisfying to an anxious twenty-first century sensibility, which, sometimes in secret, sometimes openly, longs to immerse itself in what we can simply call magical language. Hart is a sorcerer. He is a devotee of Eros. He is an architect of alternate realities. He is a prodigious scholar. But above all, he is a visionary writer of breathtakingly beautiful sentences. Come in, reader. A feast awaits you." —Norman Finkelstein, author of In a Broken Star and Further Adventures
The other announcement is simply that I want to recommend a recent column by my brother Robert over at his Substack site, The Musical Platypus. This one is out from behind the paywall, so you need not be a subscriber to read it, and it is quite brief. It came out on the 9th of this month, which was (as absolutely every single one of you should already know) the sixtieth anniversary of the American television debut on the Ed Sullivan Show of a certain Liverpudlian popular music quartet. It is just a shameless bit of nostalgia-mining on my brother’s part, admittedly, but that is something everyone enjoys now and then, and this is a very good specimen of the genre.
OMG I can't wait to read this! (I know that was kind of a squealy fangirl type comment but that's pretty much what I am, as you know, David)
So your computer ate the homework you did with your dog. That's a new one!