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George Saunders

George Saunders was born December 2, 1958 and raised on the south side of Chicago. In 1981 he received a B.S. in Geophysical Engineering from Colorado School of Mines in Golden, Colorado. He worked at Radian International, an environmental engineering firm in Rochester, NY as a technical writer and geophysical engineer from 1989 to 1996. He has also worked in Sumatra on an oil exploration geophysics crew, as a doorman in Beverly Hills, a roofer in Chicago, a convenience store clerk, a guitarist in a Texas country-and-western band, and a knuckle-puller in a West Texas slaughterhouse. After reading in People magazine about the Master's program at Syracuse University, he applied. Mr. Saunders received an MA with an emphasis in creative writing in 1988. His thesis advisor was Doug Unger.He has been an Assistant Professor, Syracuse University Creative Writing Program since 1997. He has also been a Visiting Writer at Vermont Studio Center, University of Georgia MayMester Program, University of Denver, University of Texas at Austin, St. Petersburg Literary Seminar (St. Petersburg, Russia, Summer 2000), Brown University, Dickinson College, Hobart & William Smith Colleges. He conducted a Guest Workshop at the Eastman School of Music, Fall 1995, and was an Adjunct Professor at Saint John Fisher College, Rochester, New York, 1990-1995; and Adjunct Professor at Siena College, Loudonville, New York in Fall 1989.He is married and has two children.His favorite charity is a project to educate Tibetan refugee children in Nepal.

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Nathanielhar citeretfor 2 år siden
but the beauty of the story is that, through all of this, or in spite of all of this, or all of this notwithstanding, the nose is still…a nose. A nose of sorts. A real nose and a metaphorical one. A nose that keeps changing in response to what the story needs of it. The nose is a tool to get us looking at the ways in which we go in search of that which is essential and which we have lost. The nose is the means by which Gogol does his crazy dance of joy. But also, it’s a nose. It even has a pimple.
Nathanielhar citeretfor 2 år siden
I make a protest about the story’s failure to cohere logically.

“I know, right?” the narrator says. “It’s a train wreck, isn’t it?”

Somehow that’s enough.

And just like that—like one of those Tibetan monks who spend weeks fastidiously creating a sand mandala—Gogol happily destroys his magnificent creation and sweeps it into the river.
Nathanielhar citeretfor 2 år siden
In other words, voice is not just an embellishment; it’s an essential part of the truth. In “The Nose,” we feel the narrator to be from that world of functionaries and petty officials and we hear that in his voice, and the story benefits from this; told in this way, the story has an extra dimension of truth, and of joy.

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    George Saunders
    A Swim in a Pond in the Rain
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