Age of Elkin

Time was, Stanley Elkin was a go-to for the MFA crowd. I recall the titles of his works rolling off many a young writer’s reverent tongue back in the 1990s and 2000s. Even if you hadn’t read him, which I had not, his reputation preceded him in such a way that you never quite forgot that funny, old-timey name—four trochaic syllables like a sorcerer’s utterance invoking the spirit of a minor American god. You were told he was both comic and ingenious, irreverent and formidable. You did not suspect he was postmodern until someone told you that he hung out with Gaddis, Gass, Barthelme and Coover—The Unread Masters. Francine Prose urged him on her students and wrote beautifully about their friendship. William Gass, pal and unabashed fan, became his posthumous St. Paul. Everyone seemed to have something to say about Elkin.