This was such a good month! Hints of spring already here in the south. Lots of books, lots of wine, lots of long couch conversations — and my last piece of college journalism. It's called "Depression in the Southern Part of Heaven," and Longreads chose it as its college pick of the week (!). But beyond that, these are the things I've been reading and thinking about this month.
Emily Gould's essay about being broke and being a writer, about being trapped in the cycle, about love and ego and desperation and getting through it.
"More venery. More love; more closeness; more sex and romance. Bring it back, no matter what, no matter how old we are." Life at 93.
"I think of dying at 17, in my loudness, in my vanity, which is to say in my human youth, and I tremble. I was barely anything. I understood barely anything. When Michael Dunn killed Jordan Davis, he obliterated a time-stream, devastated an open range of changes." Ta-Nehisi Coates, "Black Boy Interrupted."
"His metier was human loneliness — the terrible uncinematic kind that has very little to do with high-noon heroism and everything to do with everyday empathy — and the necessary curse of human self-knowledge. He held up a mirror to those who could barely stand to look at themselves and invited us not only to take a peek but to see someone we recognized." Tom Junod on Philip Seymour Hoffman.
Journalism: Being Gay in Russia, by Jeff Sharlet. Sexual Assault at God's Harvard by Kiera Feldman. Suspended Justice: 13 years in prison and then an acquittal, told expertly by Katie Mettler at IDS. And Lane DeGregory tells the story of a sixth-grader on the hunt for the perfect valentine.
Creative non-fiction: "Black Swans" by Lauren Slater. "Mirrorings" by Lucy Grealy. "Burl's" by Bernard Cooper. "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" by E.J. Levy. "Leap" by Brian Doyle. "This is Not Who We Are" by Naomi Shihab Nye.
Susan Sontag on her "glorious, book-drunken life" — "To be part of literature, to be even the humblest, lowest member of the great multitude of people who actually dare to put words on paper and publish them, seemed to me the most glorious thing one could do."
"Train time is found time. My main job is to be transported; any reading or writing is extracurricular. The looming pressure of expectation dissolves." In which Jessica Gross manages to get a writer’s residence in a sleeper cabin on a train to Chicago; in which Jessica Gross lives my dream life.
Books I read and loved: Salvage the Bones by Jesmyn Ward, The Principles of Uncertainty by Maira Kalman.
A handy chart for pronouncing authors' names, from Michael Chabon to Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.
This song by Mirah from her upcoming album. The "Beach House" episode of GIRLS. A quiet post from one of my favorite blogs. Roxane Gay's posts. A great Modern Love column. "Hey Ladies" continues to devastate. Frolic!
Emily Nussbaum, best TV critic, on the "macho nonsense" of True Detective.
A list of unlikely simultaneous historical events: "The first wagon train of the Oregon Trail heads out the same year the fax machine is invented."
UNC beat Duke, and Adam Lucas captured what it felt like to be there, to be on the floor.
Emily Gould's essay about being broke and being a writer, about being trapped in the cycle, about love and ego and desperation and getting through it.
"More venery. More love; more closeness; more sex and romance. Bring it back, no matter what, no matter how old we are." Life at 93.
"I think of dying at 17, in my loudness, in my vanity, which is to say in my human youth, and I tremble. I was barely anything. I understood barely anything. When Michael Dunn killed Jordan Davis, he obliterated a time-stream, devastated an open range of changes." Ta-Nehisi Coates, "Black Boy Interrupted."
"His metier was human loneliness — the terrible uncinematic kind that has very little to do with high-noon heroism and everything to do with everyday empathy — and the necessary curse of human self-knowledge. He held up a mirror to those who could barely stand to look at themselves and invited us not only to take a peek but to see someone we recognized." Tom Junod on Philip Seymour Hoffman.
Journalism: Being Gay in Russia, by Jeff Sharlet. Sexual Assault at God's Harvard by Kiera Feldman. Suspended Justice: 13 years in prison and then an acquittal, told expertly by Katie Mettler at IDS. And Lane DeGregory tells the story of a sixth-grader on the hunt for the perfect valentine.
Creative non-fiction: "Black Swans" by Lauren Slater. "Mirrorings" by Lucy Grealy. "Burl's" by Bernard Cooper. "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" by E.J. Levy. "Leap" by Brian Doyle. "This is Not Who We Are" by Naomi Shihab Nye.
Susan Sontag on her "glorious, book-drunken life" — "To be part of literature, to be even the humblest, lowest member of the great multitude of people who actually dare to put words on paper and publish them, seemed to me the most glorious thing one could do."
"Train time is found time. My main job is to be transported; any reading or writing is extracurricular. The looming pressure of expectation dissolves." In which Jessica Gross manages to get a writer’s residence in a sleeper cabin on a train to Chicago; in which Jessica Gross lives my dream life.
Books I read and loved: Salvage the Bones by Jesmyn Ward, The Principles of Uncertainty by Maira Kalman.
A handy chart for pronouncing authors' names, from Michael Chabon to Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.
This song by Mirah from her upcoming album. The "Beach House" episode of GIRLS. A quiet post from one of my favorite blogs. Roxane Gay's posts. A great Modern Love column. "Hey Ladies" continues to devastate. Frolic!
Emily Nussbaum, best TV critic, on the "macho nonsense" of True Detective.
A list of unlikely simultaneous historical events: "The first wagon train of the Oregon Trail heads out the same year the fax machine is invented."
UNC beat Duke, and Adam Lucas captured what it felt like to be there, to be on the floor.