As we reported two days ago, the great Barry Hannah passed away recently. Hannah was a true linguistic genius and the literary world will mourn his passing and celebrate his excellence for a long time.

Here is a round-up of some remembrances, old interviews, recipes and other Barry Hannah sundries:

* Vanity Fair has a new piece with writers from John Grisham to Richard Ford remembering the late master.

Ford said yesterday, “One great thing about Barry was how, in his person, he managed to preserve the deep mystery of literary art. In that way he was like Faulkner, himself. Frontally, he presented you with what seemed to be a recognizable southern type—the swaggering, impudent, small-town, pool-hall residing, wise-cracking, occasionally bibulous little smart-ass. Who then incongruously but absolutely legitimately wowed and amazed you with his celestial-quality literary sentences and constructions that could’ve come from no other brain but his, and that you never forgot. “

* The New York Times remembers the “darkly comic writer.”

* The Oxford American, the great journal of southern culture and writing, reprints a Hannah interview from 2001.

* At htmlgiant, Alec Niedenthal, Jeremiah Chamberlain, Michael Bible, and myself comment on his life and writing. Here is what I said, in regards to one of my favorite passages:

These are the opening sentences to a story called “Ride, Fly, Penetrate, Loiter.” It is hard to talk about writing like Hannah’s. He is the kind of mad-cap genius you are almost afraid to read when you are a young writer, or, hell, an old one, because he smashes every rule and bit of sense and builds it back up from scratch into something raw and gleaming. You can’t help but let him sink into you. I’m doing it already. What do I love about this passage? Look how beautifully the tone and town are set, yet without any concrete details or the expected plot set-up. Hannah’s sentences always careen to their own logic, their clauses leap out of the bushes at you. They are like the folk sayings transmitted from some other world. And that last sentence is one of my favorite in fiction. A writer needs to swallow some Hannah sentences on a regular basis. He is good for the soul.

* An old Michael Bible post on htmlgiant reprints some of Barry Hannah’s “rules” for writing, such as:

When you tell a story think more in terms of yarn, tale, even whopper. Then tell it subtly. DON’T think of nuance or “interior decoration.

* Tin House also reprints an interview online, this one from 2009.

* A video interview, although it annoyingly requires iTunes to watch.

* Over at The Rumpus, A. N. Devers remembers hearing Barry Hannah lecture.

*Lastly, also at The Rumpus, Barry Hannah’s own recipe for three-bean soup:

“You start with three kinds of beans: kidney, white (navy) and black-eyed peas. Take a big–real big–pot of water, dump ‘em in, and add some shredded onions. Saute either pork or beef, cut up in little chunks, and dump it in. Bring it to a boil. Add salt mixed with pepper, to taste. Turn up the heat and bring it up again. Add water if needed; dump in a small bag of rice, and bring it up. Boil until it thickens. For extra seasoning, I sometimes add some crab-boil, Tabasco, or whatever’s handy on the shelf. Serve it with French bread and butter. It’s all the nutrition you can stand.”