Liars and Saints

 "To Die For" came out before I entered high school--before!--and it still stays in my mind. It's the story of Suzanne Stone, a character built off a real-world human, Pamela Smart. Ms. Smart conspired to have her own husband murdered, and that's also what happens in "To Die For." Suzanne, a sociopath, can't understand why life won't just conform to the shape of a TV narrative. Why would anyone wonder if Suzanne wants to have a family? ("Two problems with that: You can't cover a royal wedding if you're pregnant.....And, also, who wants to look at you afterward?") Suzanne recognizes an opportunity for media coverage at her own husband's funeral, so she pulls out a boom box and looks mournful for the entirety of a song, "All By Myself." Suzanne can't be bothered with a troubled teen's story about an assault: She waves a hand impatiently and says, "You know what? You put that memory in a box, and you put that

 At times, my favorite NYC spot is the Bronx Zoo; at times, it's Film Forum. The best Film Forum event I recall--from my bachelor years--was New Year's Eve. The Forum managers would choose a great black-and-white film, and they would serve you champagne at the end. I remember some of the movies: Preminger's "Laura," Stanwyck in "Christmas in Connecticut," Greta Garbo in "Ninotchka." I'm no longer in New York, but I like to re-create the Film Forum tradition. One year, my husband and I spent New Year's Eve with "Shadow of a Doubt." This year, we'll watch "Bad Day at Black Rock." That latter film was called a "nerve-shredding masterpiece," and Spencer Tracy, in the lead role, earned an Oscar nomination. (The cast actually has five Oscar winners: Tracy, Marvin, Borgnine, Brennan, Jagger.) Hitchcock didn't make "Bad Day"--he was struggling with "Dial M for Murder"--but one critic spe

  Christian Robinson's new book is a letter from an adult to a child. It's an effort to reassure someone lost: "You matter." Robinson tells the child you have worth , even when: *You fall down. *You have to start again. *Everyone thinks you're a pest. *No one will help. *You feel alone. *Someone you love goes away. *You find you're far from home. *Something you want remains out of reach. The book would be subversive enough if it were just text; it's rare to see someone speaking so bluntly to children. (How generous it is to state the awful truth!) But--on top of this--there are the illustrations, which are so witty and surprising and challenging. They are never, never what you expect. "You matter even if you're last to go." This line is accompanied by a lizard emerging from primordial ooze onto land. "You matter even if you're too small to see." This line is accompanied by someone in an airplane: The items "too small to see

 I borrowed Jerry Seinfeld's new book from the library; I haven't been reading cover to cover but just skipping around and loving it. The book gathers up tiny comedy bits Seinfeld has written over many years. The bits are almost like poems; no word is wasted, and there is often a startling swerve right before the ending. The way this guy lands endings is something wondrous to behold. Like his colleague Larry David, Seinfeld is a schlemiel--a guy who makes us aware of life's absurdities by continuously saying and doing "the wrong thing." If you invite Larry David to see your new apartment, he might say: "Let me guess...Bathroom? Kitchen? I think I'll pass." In that spirit, here's a Seinfeld piece I admire, "Baby Visit." Note the really breathtaking conclusion: My friend just had a baby. Lot of pressure to see this baby. "You have got to see this baby. When are you coming over to see the baby? See the baby. See the baby." Nobody

We don't love "The Night Before Christmas." Santa's actions in this poem are utterly predictable, and the speaker doesn't have a personality. Also, it's a bit creepy that the speaker refers to his own wife as "Ma." (Hard not to think of Mike Pence.) Josh and I have had more luck with Christian Robinson, who illustrated and dreamed up the book "Another." (Pictures included here.) Robinson also did the celebrated images for "Last Stop on Market Street," and he has a new book, "You Matter," that seems possibly exciting to me. (Dave Eggers loved it.) Robinson began by drawing for various writers, but now he is doing "the full job" on his own. He is in his early thirties and winning major buzz. It's exciting to see an artist taking off. And that's all for now. We are visiting some chickens and sheep in Hudson. I'm not sure when I'll write again. Happy Holidays and Happy 2021!

  This Christmas, we have spent a great deal of time with Charlie Brown. We've added a tiny Snoopy to our tree. We've admired the voice-over performances of Tracy Stratford, Cathy Steinberg, Peter Robbins, and especially Christopher Shea ("Linus"), in "A Charlie Brown Christmas." We've listened obsessively to the Vince Guaraldi score; my favorite right now is "The Little Drummer Boy," with the staccato upper-octave piano line inserted over the quietly singing children. But maybe the best Charlie Brown item this season has been Nate Silver's ranking of each and every dancer in the famous dance scene: https://fivethirtyeight.com/features/the-a-charlie-brown-christmas-special-dancers-you-most-want-to-party-with/ Sally ranks at the bottom: "She is in her own space, having a good time, but not drawing me in...." Snoopy's dance is dismissed (OVERRATED)....And "Guy in Orange" takes the top prize. ("The only reason I wo

Salvy has had a challenging year. His little brother has grown from a mostly inert, peaceful creature into a rather demanding pseudo-antagonist and rival. I see many of my own (interpersonal) dramas mirrored in the daily Salvy/Joshua friction. Joshua knows that Salvy is often an object of discipline--we're often saying, "Salvy, no, no, no"--so Joshua himself has learned to widen his eyes at Salvy and shout NO NO NO NO! (apropos of nothing.....) Joshua *says* NO, but, also, he throws himself at Salvy, constantly, so we needn't wonder why Salvy might sometimes feel confused. At the same time, Salvy doesn't help the situation. He drapes himself coyly on Joshua's feet, as if begging for contact. I'm exasperated, then, when he gets the contact he seems to want -- and immediately begins growling at Joshua. All of this makes me think of a famous "Aaron Burr" moment in "Hamilton." Remember, Burr is frequently befuddled and irritated by Alexande

  One of Alfred Hitchcock's great villains is Bruno, the sociopath from "Strangers on a Train." The actor, Robert Walker, was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. (Actually, he would die shortly after finishing the film.) Roger Ebert says Walker's real-world edginess colored his performance, in a good way. Bruno seems bright and charming, for a moment, but he is troubled. He sits too close to you. He says, "I'll let you read your book," then he keeps talking. He murmurs, "I always admire people who do things...." Of course, Bruno's greatest issue is that he believes murder is OK, and he offs a stranger in a crowded amusement park. (This is after an iconic moment when he gets irritated by a small child, and he pops that child's balloon with his cigar.) It seems clear that Bruno has no grasp on the consequences of his own actions, and there isn't a great deal of effort to explain "why" he is who he is. (Contrast this with th

 Gift-giving really agitates me; I tend to feel like I'm not making the right choices, and that there is a valuable secret I've never managed to learn. So I was happy to see the NYTimes piece yesterday specifically about gift-giving, and I was enchanted by the data-driven (and sometimes contrarian) advice: *Do ask the recipient specifically what he or she wants. Then get that thing. (We have an idea that we need to invent the perfect gift after many hours of thought and sleuthing, but the Times says: Ditch this idea.) *Sifting through gift cards? The Times says: Pick a gift card linked with a somewhat pedestrian place where the recipient actually tends to shop. We have this idea that the gift card should be linked with some impossibly luxurious business, e.g. Tiffany. But if the recipient in question never actually shops at Tiffany--and *does actually* shop at Target, basically everyday--then opt for the Target gift card. *It truly is the thought that counts. A diamond necklace

 There is a cliche: Major deaths happen in threes. I think that's a cliche? I think I heard that before? In any case, in recent weeks, the world lost scholar and novelist Alison Lurie. The world lost John le Carre. And the world lost Broadway legend Ann Reinking. I knew in high school that Ann Reinking was a source of reverence for many people; I knew because of the "Chicago" revival recording. That fabled production won many Tony Awards; Reinking won for her choreography, but, also, she was the star of the show. You'd hear the strange, monstrous character she invented on the recordings for "Roxie" and "Nowadays" and "My Baby and Me." In high school, I didn't really appreciate dance, but, now, I appreciate it more and more, and I can see why a fan might call Reinking a genius. Watching her clips, I also think of the talent, ambition, and appetite that must have gone into "becoming who she was." Hooray for the memory of Ann R

 At the start of James Marshall's hippo career, Marshall wrote a story, "Split Pea Soup," with an indelible image. The story has George awkwardly accepting Martha's pea soup, which he doesn't actually want. He can't find words to turn down the soup, so he takes it and he pours it--covertly--into his loafers. This setup is a knockout for a few reasons: the idea of George in squishy loafers, the picture of two hippos together at the table, the revelation that Martha herself hates the soup. (She just likes to *cook* it.) But the resolution seems a bit false to me. After Martha discovers the truth, there is a heart-to-heart, and all is set to rest. It seems to me that actual life doesn't often work this way. At the very end of Marshall's career, Marshall *revisited* the soup situation. In the story "The Clock," it's *Martha* who gets the unwanted gift. Martha gets an obnoxious cuckoo clock. Like George in earlier years, Martha can't find

 In this house, we like to do an occasional film exchange. Over the summer, Marc curated GREAT SPORTS FILMS IN HISTORY, and I replied with BIG MOVIE MUSICALS OF VARYING QUALITY, 1960 TO THE PRESENT. Right now, I'm running a series called I LOVE TILDA SWINTON. My family has watched "Michael Clayton," which is like the Gold Standard in terms of Tilda Swinton Worship. But can you even say that? Swinton was mesmerizing in "The Deep End," which we also enjoyed. She was stunning in "Julia," as well, even if the movie dragged in parts. She was ugly and strange and captivating! I'm not sure if I will extend this project to I AM LOVE and A BIGGER SPLASH and DAVID COPPERFILED....but stay tuned.... My husband's response: TWENTY YEARS OF LAW AND ORDER: SVU . To my delight, I'm now an SVU addict. I like to lobby for the major Emmy nominees: the Mare Winningham chapter, the disturbing Ann-Margret murder mystery, the truly shocking Angela Lansbury/Alfred

  "The Stupids Step Out" introduces us to Stanley and Mrs. Stupid, and to their children and their dog, Kitty. It's a normal day. Mrs. S knits stockings for Stanley, which Stanley wears on his ears. The family squeezes into a bathtub, but no one endorses the idea of turning the faucet on, because "our clothing would get wet." Mrs. S decides to wear a cat on her head. Eventually, it's announced that a trip into the world will occur. The Stupids stop at Grandpa's house, and Grandpa doesn't recognize anyone. There is a meal of mashed potatoes with butterscotch sauce, at a diner. In the story's iconic climax, the Stupids stop at a mirror shop, and they believe they're looking through windows....and they ask: "Who *are* those ridiculous people?" Throughout, I love Marshall's drawings. The tree labelled "flower." The ancestral "portrait," which simply features a closeup of someone's kneecaps. I did some reading

 I drove our car into a dumpster. It's not really OK. There were zero extenuating circumstances. There were zero obstacles. Just a long stretch of road and a dumpster, off to the side. Life is so strange, because you might walk around with a deep conviction, i.e. I'm not a person who drives a car into a dumpster. Then, there's strong, concrete evidence to refute your conviction. But a part of you still holds onto the conviction, even as you stare at the dent in your door. I could make excuses. I hadn't slept well; the baby had been fussing. I felt ill. Really, the number one culprit is Kaplan. I had been planning to teach an SAT course, and the Kaplan book listed a so-called "grammar issue": The Kaplan book wrote, The Pilgrims brought many provisions, such as meats and vegetables.  The Kaplan people said that this sentence was wrong, because a correct sentence would be: Pilgrims brought many provisions, such as food . I found this passage so absurd and misguid

 My favorite Christmas movie is "Girl You Wish You Hadn't Started a Conversation With," and it's included here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGsQES_OdrQ&list=LLc3HbsPZKQ9yyQZbO8WPKFw&index=592 In this short film, Cecily Strong is repelled by commercialism. She has important observations for us: *"For every five hungry people...there are five people too full....and it's like: SWITCH STOMACHS." *"Maybe, this Christmas? Ask Santa for an end to genocide." *"Why can't Secret Santa just be openly gay???" The script is great, but then there are the grace notes: the way Strong's jaw hangs open, the small-child voice she sometimes uses ("That's my friend, Ingrid....I hate her...."), and the antagonism between host and subject ("Just give me forty more minutes....."). Cecily Strong haunts my dreams. I'm still in awe.

  An essay I love is "An Ode to Mrs. MC," by Summer Pierre.  https://medium.com/spiralbound/an-ode-to-mrs-mc-1c09a53a0b08 This is an essay in pictures. The speaker is recalling her son's Kindergarten teacher. Yikes! Kindergarten. The son in question--Gus--struggled with transitions....and Kindergarten seemed daunting. But Mrs. MC worked wonders. Mrs. MC--with her hippie-ish gray braid--beamed at the children and said, "1....2...3...Eyes on me!" She re-branded homework as "fun work," and she made sure the children knew what they were doing before they unpacked their bags. She used humor, so that Gus would often burst into laughter, inexplicably, at the dinner table; he would recall a private joke.  What makes the essay special is the details. Gus--I imagine him in Park Slope, somewhere--wears a necktie with his tee shirt. The anxious mom throws up her hands at the idea of K "homework." School administrators, trying to describe Mrs. MC, settle

 Within a single "George and Martha" book, there has to be a crescendo. The last of the five stories has to represent a culminating crisis. The stakes need to be higher than ever before. In "The Surprise," Martha threatens to sever relations--forever. In "The Garden," George designs a grand project that fails, but the failure leads to Martha's famous announcement: "I wouldn't trade our friendship for all the gardens in the world." In "The Tooth," George is swamped with grief, and it's briefly unclear whether the grief will ever go away. My favorite Marshall "climax" story is the end of the penultimate George/Martha volume, and it's called "The Book." In that one, Martha simply won't shut up while George is trying to read. George, convinced that Martha is deliberately antagonizing him, prepares to deliver a sermon on the importance of being considerate. Before George can speak--however--Martha apol

  It's not news that Cecily Strong did great work as Melissa Carone on SNL over the weekend. And it's not surprising; Strong has been an Emmy nominee for her SNL artistry, and she was marked for special praise in Colin Jost's memoir over the summer. (Strong was briefly a Weekend Update cohost, before the producers committed to Jost/Che.) Strong's singular gift is for the cheerfully oblivious/ clueless. She has been on Weekend Update as the person you instantly recognize from your memories of awkward parties--the person who routinely interrupts her own boring story to check her cell phone, or makes puzzling announcements with conviction ("Reverse racism is EVEN WORSE"), or does tricks with syntax that can make your head spin ("There are people in Africa right now where it's like.....NO"). Melissa Carone was a skit waiting to happen. My favorite moments: *"I'm telling my story, and only my story. I signed an After David. I signed in. After

  I have a pact with myself not to think about money in the morning. I'm like a teenager trying not to think about sex. But I'm also trying not to think about sex. Or Luke. Or death. Which means not thinking about my mother, who died on vacation last winter. There are so many things I can't think about in order to write in the morning. Adam, my landlord, watches me walk his dog. He leans against his Benz in a suit and sparkling shoes as I come back up the driveway. He's needy in the morning. Everyone is, I suppose. He enjoys his contrast to me in my sweats and untamed hair. When the dog and I are closer he says, "You're up early." I'm always up early. "So are you." "Meeting with the judge at the courthouse at seven sharp." Admire me. Admire me. Admire JUDGE and COURTHOUSE and SEVEN SHARP..... Many people have praised Lily King's most recent novel, "Writers and Lovers," including Curtis Sittenfeld, Tessa Hadley, and Eli

 Rotten Ralph is Sarah's rotten cat, but Sarah "loves him anyway." Ralph--a sociopath--steals baked goods, saws crucial limbs off tall trees, blows soap bubbles through a pipe, and mocks hard-working little dancers. Nicole Rubel, one-half of the creative team behind Ralph, took a few notes from James Marshall, and you can see a George/Martha vibe in the "Ralph" story. (That said, neither hippo is ever quite as challenging as Ralph.) God is in the details, and my fondness for "Rotten Ralph" has to do with tiny, tiny things. The exuberant wall paper. The elaborate design for the back of a chair. The marching ducks on Sarah's dress, and the insane grin Ralph has right before he steals a pie. I very much like that Rubel doesn't design anything "conventionally pretty." I'm inspired by that.

  One of my favorite writers, Alison Lurie, died this week. She was 94. Lurie won the Pulitzer Prize for the novel "Foreign Affairs," but she also wrote essays about children's literature (including "Babar"), and she wrote about houses, museums, religious buildings ("how we choose to order the space we live and work in"). "Intelligence, authority, wit, and charm." "Lucid, jargon-free." "Engaging and captivating." This is how people talk about Lurie's writing. Lurie could be lightly "cutting," and you see this in her reflections on writing-as-a-task: Over the years many people have told me that they want to be a writer. It gradually becomes clear what some of them have in mind; they are daydreaming of becoming a special sort of person who will be recognized as more sensitive and creative than others, with a more interesting personality. If they ask me about agents and publishers and reviewers, I know that they

  My husband has mentioned active toys for Joshua. These might include jungle gyms, race cars, bouncing balls. I'm glad I have my husband, for many reasons, and certainly for the reason that active toys are not my terrain. Some of our holiday gifts for Josh will be: *"Nonstop," the final book by Tomi Ungerer, praised by Dave Eggers. *"The Arnold Lobel Treasury," which is four stories, none involving Frog/Toad, in one volume. *"The Stupids Step Out," by Allard/Marshall. This is a gently silly catalogue of ridiculous behaviors, and it's a joyful work of art. I think if it were more serious and less pleasurable, it would have a loftier reputation. But I'm glad it is what it is. The runners-up: Jerry Pinkney's "Little Mermaid" (beautiful images, but I'm a bit confused by the climax and resolution)....Jerry Pinkney's "Three Little Kittens" (seems inevitable, down the road)....and anything by Astrid Sheckels. Happy hun

  It's hard, now, to see Nicole Kidman and *not* think of Chloe Fineman's devastating impersonation (included here). But, gosh, I like Nicole Kidman. I like her very much. In honor of Kidman's "Undoing" performance, and her prominent spot on the Times list of "25 Greatest 21st-Century Film Actors (So Far)," I'm listing my three favorite Nicole moments here. They're all from "Rabbit Hole." Did you see this one? It's a bit of a mess. It landed Nicole an Oscar nomination, but people tend to forget about it. It's a film that asks us to believe that Nicole is the sibling of Tammy Blanchard. Also, we're meant to ignore the strange Australian accent that pops up now and then. Nevertheless.....here you go.....my favorite Nicole: (3) Why didn't God just make another angel ? Nicole's kid is dead, and Nicole is enraged to have to attend a grief support group. Someone prattles on about...."My kid *needed* to die....because

  I can't keep up with new TV as it happens--the idea seems overwhelming--so my TV Hero of 2020 is Tami Taylor, from "Friday Night Lights." Yes, Tami has been absent from the small screen for several years. But 2020 is When I Found Her. Tami lives in a heavily Christian town in West Texas, and her husband coaches football, and yet so many of Tami's issues are relatable for me. She can't connect with an inexplicably difficult teenager, and she spends many of her on-screen hours wondering about the cloud of adolescent moodiness wafting down through the hall. She, Tami, would like to have a career, and she finds this project difficult in the context of her family. Also, Tami can be hot-headed; she is correct to identify a young new English teacher as "skeezy," but she is perhaps unwise in the way she handles this skeeziness. Tami would like information about her daughter's possible new boyfriend, but she can't get that info, and so she just begins c