Eurydice Eurydice
It’s more like the sound a doe makes when the arrowhead replaces the day with an answer to the rib’s hollowed hum. We saw it coming but kept walking through the hole in the garden. Because the leaves were bright green & the fire only a pink brushstroke in the distance. It’s not about the light—but how dark it makes you depending on where you stand. Depending on where you stand his name can appear like moonlight shredded in a dead dog’s fur. His name changed when touched by gravity. Gravity breaking our kneecaps just to show us the sky. We kept saying Yes— even with all those birds. Who would believe us now? My voice cracking like bones inside the radio. Silly me. I thought love was real & the body imaginary. But here we are—standing in the cold field, him calling for the girl. The girl beside him. Frosted grass snapping beneath her hooves.
Jan 28, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Ocean Vuong
Permission to Fail Permission to Fail
MFAs aren’t a problem: it’s artists being content with what they know.
Jan 22, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Barry Schwabsky
Law of Life, and Light Law of Life, and Light
A new history of Chile is a wrestling match between fatalism and optimism.
Jan 22, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Lorna Scott Fox
‘Think of Me With Joy’ ‘Think of Me With Joy’
The worlds of Sholem Aleichem.
Jan 22, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Julia M. Klein
Notes for the Translation of an Ancient Fragment Notes for the Translation of an Ancient Fragment
[She?] pale curtain fire behind it scent of split rock [She] as wind slendered in grass [She] soft path down which [Unknown refrain] Roughened blue [of eyes, of waters?] Steel [of her voice, of weather?]… Apple [her skin? its white cliffs/sting?] the cricket [cricket] climbing All this! [O She!] [Unknown refrain] Sea so blue [a handful, blue] Those glass lips say I shouldn’t say this her blouse slips dawn [or down] Sound [verb] with wide-eyed hands [Unknown refrain] She throws [we throw?] live flowers on fire they [flowers or limbs?] blend smooth as flames Though high stars circling will [how long how long?] pick our bones clean [Unknown refrain]
Jan 21, 2014 / Books & the Arts / James Richardson
Pictures Without an Exhibition Pictures Without an Exhibition
The Brooklyn Museum’s massive show of war photography is a wasted opportunity.
Jan 15, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Susie Linfield
Casual Opulence Casual Opulence
Denise Levertov’s Collected Poems.
Jan 15, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Adam Plunkett
Unreal Cities? Unreal Cities?
Do “smart” urban automation projects have more in common with Jane Jacobs or Le Corbusier?
Jan 15, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Catherine Tumber
Paris! Paris! Paris! Paris!
All reds come in the shape of lips. Even—s’il vous plaît—our shy little Mazovian cherries. So we shall write with a promiscuous tongue and instead of a period—make a lip print. At the railway station buffet in Radom we drink beer, and the world seen through a full mug is yellowed with the fright of Van Gogh, and a mug—mon Dieu!—also has no ear. Paris! Paris! Ai, dana, da dana! We climb atop our dresser stands and dream of the avant-garde’s New Trick: The Straight Line, which is a stem, and at its end hangs a lip-colored cherry. Oh, sweet drop of Marseillaise, little planet of our malignancy, flow down, drop into our thin borschts! We geometricians of form, puddle-jumpers into others’ imaginations, are waiting for you. And let the folk sing along: Paris! Paris! Ai dana, da dana! (translated from the Polish by Jennifer Grotz and Piotr Sommer)
Jan 14, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Jerzy Ficowski
An Artful Imbalance An Artful Imbalance
Treme is an understated and deeply melancholic patchwork of American stubbornness.
Jan 7, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Akiva Gottlieb