John Jeremiah Sullivan
One of the interviews last year that I was most excited about (and most dreaded) was with John Jeremiah Sullivan, author of “Pulphead,” a tremendous book of essays that ended up on many critics’ top ten lists for 2011. The book collects Sullivan’s long-form journalism from places like GQ and the Paris Review, but also some straight cultural criticism like a devastating essay about Michael Jackson. He can write spectacularly–fireworks and flash, whiplash-quick changes in register and tone writing about ex-Real World stars, for example–but can also go completely subdued when the subject demands. It’s the kind of book that you have to force yourself to read slowly, to take in sentence by sentence, rather than devouring it as its delectableness compels.
Sullivan’s father worked as a sportswriter for the Courier-Journal. Sullivan’s 2004 memoir “Blood Horses” recounts his memories of visiting the paper’s offices as a kid. One of the things that didn’t make it into the piece was his memory of the constant inebriation of the reporters, including his father. This is not, needless to say, a legacy that continues at the paper (as far as I can tell).
