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Essays from the Nick of Time: Reflections and Refutations
A new collection of prophetic essays from one of the sharpest practitioners of the form
Mark Slouka writes from a particular vantage point, one invoked by Thoreau, who wished "to improve the nick of time . . . to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future." At this bewildering convergence, Slouka asks us to consider what it means to be human and what we must revive, or reject, in order to retain our humanity in the modern world.
Collected over fifteen years, these essays include fascinating explorations of the relationship between memory and history and the nature of "tragedy" in a media-driven culture; meditations on the transcendent "wisdom" of the natural world and the role of silence in an age of noise; and arguments in defense of the political value of leisure time and the importance of the humanities in an age defined by the language of science and industry. Written in Slouka's supple and unerring prose, celebratory, critical, and passionate, Essays from the Nick of Time reawakens us to the moment and place in which we find ourselves, caught between the fading presence of the past and the neon lure of the future.
Collected over fifteen years, these essays include fascinating explorations of the relationship between memory and history and the nature of "tragedy" in a media-driven culture; meditations on the transcendent "wisdom" of the natural world and the role of silence in an age of noise; and arguments in defense of the political value of leisure time and the importance of the humanities in an age defined by the language of science and industry. Written in Slouka's supple and unerring prose, celebratory, critical, and passionate, Essays from the Nick of Time reawakens us to the moment and place in which we find ourselves, caught between the fading presence of the past and the neon lure of the future.
208 pages, Paperback
First published October 26, 2010
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About the author
Mark Slouka
18 books109 followersMark Slouka most recent books are the story collection All That Is Left Is All That Matters, the memoir Nobody’s Son, and the award-winning novel Brewster. His work has appeared in The Best American Short Stories, The Best American Essays, and the PEN / O. Henry Prize Stories. He lives in Prague.
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Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews
April 28, 2012
This perfectly civilized little book had me asking myself an uncomfortable question: am I still, in fact, a liberal? Do I still subscribe to these pieties, still nod along to these homilies? The answer would appear to be yes, since there’s nothing more tediously liberal than interrogating your own liberalism. But Mark Slouka sometimes makes me feel like a borderline agnostic sitting through a church service, politely mouthing the hymns while suppressing the impulse to shout 'bullshit' at the bland, well-meaning pastor.
Slouka, a contributor to Harper’s Magazine, is a fine writer, and I read these essays with something like pleasure. But increasingly, I kept coming up against certain liturgical expressions, certain articles of leftist faith that I just can’t get behind anymore. Things like this:
If one of the characteristics of capitalism is that it tends to shut down options, narrow the margins, then perhaps what we are seeing these days is one of the side effects of the so-called free market...
In what sense, however loose and metaphorical, is that statement even remotely true? (Note Slouka’s weaselly ‘if’, his cagey ‘perhaps’: sandbags for a leaky argument). Just looking around the café where I’m writing this, I count 36 different caffeinated beverages on the menu, along with coffee beans from a dozen different countries; I see people wearing a diverse assortment of clothing, footwear, and accessories; if I get bored, I can pull out my iPod and listen to music from Renaissance Europe, 1920s New Orleans, or modern-day Mali, or I can fire up my e-reader and peruse almost any book ever written in the history of the world. Such are the depredations of capitalism. Pace Slouka, I’m actually completely swamped with options; I’m deluged with choices. This can create problems of its own, of course, and we can talk about that. But deep down, I kinda like having choices. It sure beats the alternative. Or what particular mode of ascetic communal living is Slouka advocating?
As with many intellectuals, Slouka’s logic and sense of proportion desert him whenever he turns his attention—with an almost perceptible shudder—to that loathsome thing, business. If you listen carefully, you can hear the squeal of outraged sensibilities:
Look about: The business of business is everywhere and inescapable; the song of the buyers and sellers never stops…We have no time for our friends or our families, no time to think or to make a meal. We’re moving product, while the soul drowns like a cat in a well.
Speak for yourself, Mark. My soul may be a little bedraggled, but I wouldn’t call it drowned, exactly. And besides, since you keep going on about your trips to Europe and the delightful cottage where you spend your summers, and since you seem to have plenty of leisure time in which to write these elegant essays of yours, I’m guessing you manage to keep your exquisite soul decently sheltered from the vulgar hurly-burly of American life. So where are these dead cats you’re talking about? Ah, you must be thinking of those other Americans, the ones who don’t read Harper’s: that obese woman scarfing down curly fries at Arby’s – surely her soul is a dreary blank, right? Or that doltish-looking teenager on the bus, with the livid acne and the Tupac shirt on which he’s dribbled some Grape Crush – no way does he have an inner life.
Slouka paints himself, rather unconvincingly, as a bit of a rebel, a rugged individualist in a land of bleating sheep. Fine, whatever, James Dean. But behind all this posing, there’s a barely concealed contempt for the supposedly 'drowned' souls of Middle America. He cites approvingly an old anecdote about Sherwood Anderson: how he chucked his job managing a paint factory in order to become a vagabond and writer. And, hey, great for Sherwood. But Slouka’s moral seems to be that the only way to live an authentic life is to drop out and turn to some kind of vaguely defined bohemianism. Implicit in this is the idea that absurd people such as factory managers, and all those who dirty their hands with commerce, are necessarily debased and ignorant philistines. And, what’s worse, Republicans. There’s something laughably juvenile and retrograde about this Manichean, quasi-beatnik vision of a world divided into squares and hep cats, as if Slouka had just read Kerouac for the first time at age 48 or whatever and decided to hit the road – with his Amex card, just in case. It’s frankly embarrassing.
I think my problem is that I’m just too Canadian to appreciate this guy. I actually agree with a lot of what he says; I just dislike the sour, aggrieved tone in which he says it. Maybe if I lived in the U.S., I’d be just as pissed-off as he is; maybe I’d sit around all day raging against email, cell phones, the profit motive, George W. Bush, and every last feature of modern life. Maybe. But I’d also like to think I’d take the time to eat the odd Twinkie, go to a few ball games and, you know, just enjoy being an American. None of which, as far as I can see, Slouka ever does.
Slouka, a contributor to Harper’s Magazine, is a fine writer, and I read these essays with something like pleasure. But increasingly, I kept coming up against certain liturgical expressions, certain articles of leftist faith that I just can’t get behind anymore. Things like this:
If one of the characteristics of capitalism is that it tends to shut down options, narrow the margins, then perhaps what we are seeing these days is one of the side effects of the so-called free market...
In what sense, however loose and metaphorical, is that statement even remotely true? (Note Slouka’s weaselly ‘if’, his cagey ‘perhaps’: sandbags for a leaky argument). Just looking around the café where I’m writing this, I count 36 different caffeinated beverages on the menu, along with coffee beans from a dozen different countries; I see people wearing a diverse assortment of clothing, footwear, and accessories; if I get bored, I can pull out my iPod and listen to music from Renaissance Europe, 1920s New Orleans, or modern-day Mali, or I can fire up my e-reader and peruse almost any book ever written in the history of the world. Such are the depredations of capitalism. Pace Slouka, I’m actually completely swamped with options; I’m deluged with choices. This can create problems of its own, of course, and we can talk about that. But deep down, I kinda like having choices. It sure beats the alternative. Or what particular mode of ascetic communal living is Slouka advocating?
As with many intellectuals, Slouka’s logic and sense of proportion desert him whenever he turns his attention—with an almost perceptible shudder—to that loathsome thing, business. If you listen carefully, you can hear the squeal of outraged sensibilities:
Look about: The business of business is everywhere and inescapable; the song of the buyers and sellers never stops…We have no time for our friends or our families, no time to think or to make a meal. We’re moving product, while the soul drowns like a cat in a well.
Speak for yourself, Mark. My soul may be a little bedraggled, but I wouldn’t call it drowned, exactly. And besides, since you keep going on about your trips to Europe and the delightful cottage where you spend your summers, and since you seem to have plenty of leisure time in which to write these elegant essays of yours, I’m guessing you manage to keep your exquisite soul decently sheltered from the vulgar hurly-burly of American life. So where are these dead cats you’re talking about? Ah, you must be thinking of those other Americans, the ones who don’t read Harper’s: that obese woman scarfing down curly fries at Arby’s – surely her soul is a dreary blank, right? Or that doltish-looking teenager on the bus, with the livid acne and the Tupac shirt on which he’s dribbled some Grape Crush – no way does he have an inner life.
Slouka paints himself, rather unconvincingly, as a bit of a rebel, a rugged individualist in a land of bleating sheep. Fine, whatever, James Dean. But behind all this posing, there’s a barely concealed contempt for the supposedly 'drowned' souls of Middle America. He cites approvingly an old anecdote about Sherwood Anderson: how he chucked his job managing a paint factory in order to become a vagabond and writer. And, hey, great for Sherwood. But Slouka’s moral seems to be that the only way to live an authentic life is to drop out and turn to some kind of vaguely defined bohemianism. Implicit in this is the idea that absurd people such as factory managers, and all those who dirty their hands with commerce, are necessarily debased and ignorant philistines. And, what’s worse, Republicans. There’s something laughably juvenile and retrograde about this Manichean, quasi-beatnik vision of a world divided into squares and hep cats, as if Slouka had just read Kerouac for the first time at age 48 or whatever and decided to hit the road – with his Amex card, just in case. It’s frankly embarrassing.
I think my problem is that I’m just too Canadian to appreciate this guy. I actually agree with a lot of what he says; I just dislike the sour, aggrieved tone in which he says it. Maybe if I lived in the U.S., I’d be just as pissed-off as he is; maybe I’d sit around all day raging against email, cell phones, the profit motive, George W. Bush, and every last feature of modern life. Maybe. But I’d also like to think I’d take the time to eat the odd Twinkie, go to a few ball games and, you know, just enjoy being an American. None of which, as far as I can see, Slouka ever does.
November 22, 2011
This is the first book by Mark Slouka that I've read, and it's made me a big fan: thoughtful, angry, kick-ass essays. I particularly liked "Quitting the Paint Factory," "Ecologue" (spelling?), and "Listening for Silence." I also appreciated his take on education, and hereby nominate him to be the next U.S. Secretary for Education. As a scientist, I'd argue a bit with his take on science/math education, but all in all, a fantastic collection. Finally, he read at Brockport and did a great job....
July 21, 2011
A solid essay collection.
Slouka is at his best when he gets angry, training his crosshairs on American ignorance in a variety of its forms.
Thoreau for the late 20th/early 21st century?
September 7, 2011
An interesting perspective on such varied topics as Hitler's couch, videos, and silence. The comments are thoughtful and introspective.
May 6, 2019
In ESSAYS FROM THE NICK OF TIME: REFLECTIONS AND REFUTATIONS, Mark Slouka looks back both personally and civically at his life, government and education. He finds most lacking. He is outside the main currents of contemporary culture. He makes the distinction between leisure and idleness - he prefers the latter - and has not wholly original takes on materialism, work and the death drive of capitalism. But he presents them creatively with a contemplative flare. His ideas will not shine as revelatory to like-minded readers, but that doesn’t dismiss their importance and that they must be addressed. The pieces mostly come from Harpers, published in the decade between 1998 and 2009, and maybe that’s why some of his concepts struck me as obvious: I’m reading them now, 10 years after that. At the time, they were prescient. For example, here’s how he ends an essay written after the jubilation that followed the election of President Obama: “Praise me for a patriot or warm up the pillars, it comes down to the unpleasant fact that a significant number of our fellow citizens are now as greedy and gullible as a boxful of puppies; they’ll believe anything; they’ll attack the empty glove; they’ll follow that plastic bone right off the cliff. Nothing about this election has changed that fact. If they’re ever activated - if the wrong individual gets to them, in other words, before the educational system does - we may live to experience a tyranny of the majority Tocqueville never imagined.”
November 14, 2010
This book arrived awhile ago but with everything going on, I haven't had a chance to properly enjoy it. I've only managed to read the introduction and the first two essays. It might sound strange but in addition to enjoying these essays immensely, I also really liked the introductory notes. Not sure that's ever happened before....most often I skip over the introduction completely. Anyway, I like his writing style very much. This is not a book I can race through, instead, I'd like to read an essay and have time to reflect on it before moving on to the next. The essays are very thought provoking ... I love stuff like this.
August 8, 2011
Slouka is an essayist in the classic sense, and one of the best we have in contemporary America. I had read most of these essays when they came out individually in Harper's, but it was great to sit down and read them all. Slouka always affirms my sense of the world and then takes me beyond my own thoughts into insights I wouldn't have had otherwise. Great writer, great essays about the world we live in now--about language and politics, about his own personal life and his observations of the world around him.
September 8, 2011
Collection of fine writing and evidence of a clear thinker. The kind of essays that make one want to shake the author's hand (if that were possible) and say, "you said what I felt, but I didn't know how to express it". I am anxious to read his fiction, but I don't think I could like it as well as these brilliant essays. The deeply felt emotion demonstated in these award-winning essays demands careful reading. (Its the PEN-Spiegelvogel award, which sounds like something Woody Allen made up.)Wow.
January 23, 2012
I enjoyed the second half of this book more than the first. Slouka is an eloquent writer with a discerning eye; his essays about our current state of affairs in America were the most interesting to me, particularly the last one in the book, which dealt with our education system.
January 25, 2011
My first introduction to Mark Slouka. Absolutely brilliant!
January 2, 2011
Brilliant. Just brilliant.
April 16, 2011
A collection of profound insights expressed eloquently.
Want to read
August 10, 2011PEN/Diamonstein-Spielvogel Award for the Art of the Essay
September 11, 2018
If...the goal was to rock, unsettle, stress test our behaviors, beliefs and dogmatic tenets...I got that ! Do I share the tenacity of the author's views of our societal decay...yes, in the erosion of a well educated populace. The 'whys' are where we, respectfully, differ. Who we elect is not the cause...it is a symptom of a rigid yet apathetic collection of non-voters.
March 22, 2022
Some excellent essay here, especially about the status of education in the United States.
June 21, 2014
I enjoyed the first half of this collection of essays, the "Reflections" portion, very much. There are a lot of thoughtful insights on history, technology, and human nature. Slouka provides a Luddite's viewpoint, but a careful and well-reasoned one. The second half of the collection, the "Refutations," I enjoyed much less. There was a lot of partisan politics, and in tone, the thoughtfulness ramped down and the curmudgeonliness ramped way, way up. I'd recommend the first half to anyone, but the second half is a much tougher slog.
May 14, 2012
Thank you Kyle. Thank you for saving my life. We all have to quit the paint factory some day. I dope I didn't do it too late.
I just want to say that I feel sorry for anyone who hasn't read this book. Please read it. It is brilliant. But I must issue a warning. You may not want to work 40+ hours a week any more -- if you can help it. You may walk out on the paint factory, or at least dream of doing so.
I just want to say that I feel sorry for anyone who hasn't read this book. Please read it. It is brilliant. But I must issue a warning. You may not want to work 40+ hours a week any more -- if you can help it. You may walk out on the paint factory, or at least dream of doing so.
February 7, 2015
An excellent book of essays that really made me think. Although intellectual in tone, the author makes his arguments cogently and passionately. This is the kind of book that is worth reading again and again, mainly because there is too much too absorb in one read-through. I would add one caveat, however: the author has definite opinions which may or may not resonate with the reader's own. If you can't handle having your views challenged, then this is not the book for you.
February 1, 2014
Mark Slouka is obviously intelligent and observant and well-read. I mostly agree with him about a lot of stuff written about here. But I found his general tone and pace really annoying. Some of this stuff has not aged well at all. Especially the one about not liking email. Fussy and overheated. Not my bag.
April 17, 2013
Some real gems here, a solid collection of essays. (I first encountered Mark Slouka last fall when I read his short story 'The Hare's Mask' which was selected to appear in the 'Best American Short Stories of 2011'.)
June 23, 2015
Loved it. I'm not really an essay collection person, I like Stephen King length books for the most part. But Slouka's writing is precious and crafty and feels right short form. Highly recommend!
October 21, 2014
Slouka is - as my journalist friend says - a beast.
November 28, 2016
Absolutely powerful, and written with an intensity of observation and figurative language that rivals Thoreau (one of Slouka's heroes). Several of these essays will frankly stun you.
Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews