And the Nobel Goes To...

French novelist and essayist Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clézio. Shock of shocks: I haven't read him. As Jacket Copy has pointed out this morning, neither have most Americans, as his books can be difficult to find here in the states. A quick check of our inventory shows that we've carried three of his books fairly recently: Round and Other Cold Hard Facts, Onitsha, and Wandering Star. I'm assuming at least one of these will find its way back to our shelves.

Of all the reaction on the Internet, I found this piece by John Sutherland on the Guardian blog particularly interesting:

The larger question raised by this year's award one can confidently have an opinion about. Has America got too big for its cultural boots? So big, in fact, that it's positively dangerous. Our screens, large and small, have been Americanised. Our popular music. Our bestseller lists increasingly feature American, not home-grown blockbusters. Even the credit crunch, which is shaking up our lives, comes to us courtesy of Wall Street, wrapped in the Stars and Stripes.

He goes on to hope for a Nobel for John Le Carre, something I wholeheartedly endorse, but find somewhat unlikely. As for my guess of Salman Rushdie, well, who knows?