Liars and Saints

  A broken heart is the greatest gift to a songwriter; suffering is the subject of "I Had Myself a True Love," "The Man That Got Away," "But Not for Me," "She Used to Be Mine," "Blue Christmas," "Fire and Rain," "When You Were Mine," "You Oughta Know," I Can't Make You Love Me," "All I Ask," "Rolling in the Deep," "Without You," "My Man's Gone Now," "Dear John." In the pantheon, I'd include Sting, who writes a kind of letter to the lover who has deserted him: Well, someone told me yesterday That when you throw your love away-- You act as if you just don't care. You look as if you're going somewhere. Sting understands that a stiff upper lip is the goal to strive toward. However, he can't get there: I just can't convince myself... I couldn't live with no one else. And I can only play that part. And sit and nurse my broken h

  We all have poop on the brain. Nurse Steffi exiled my child from school, because of "soft stool." No one actually learns much of anything in preschool--anyway.  Let that precious body rest. I found myself pushing back. "He is clearly not ill. You once tried to send him home because his sneaker was a little itchy. Can't we all try to give him a taste of education today?" Steffi relented--with a deep sigh. "But if he poops again before two PM, you are hopping in your car." Over the weekend, my husband and I study each soiled diaper--as if reading tea leaves. "What if I were a single, working mom?" I ask. "I'd be leaving my job each time a shit seems watery?" I try a low-impact diet for my son. I give him a little Jell-O; he doesn't eat it, but he sticks it on top of his head, and he says, "HAT." I see my dreams--my published novels, my PhD. These dreams are a far-off ship, and I'm waving from the shore. Another

 Each week, I try to cover a book about adults, for adults, so today I'll look at "The Way They Were." This is a new history of the early career of Barbra Streisand; it's by a gay man, and it's about gay men (Stephen Sondheim, Arthur Laurents, Tom Hatcher). Here's what I didn't know: *Arthur Laurents directed "I Can Get It for You Wholesale," the show that first publicized Barbra's name. Laurents had stumbled in his career, after "Gypsy" and "West Side Story," but he wasn't finished. *One problem Laurents had is that he'd written a script that was widely regarded as the greatest book for a musical--full-stop. (That's "Gypsy"; the distinction survives, to this day.) Once you win this title, where do you go, if you're still in the world of Broadway? *Laurents did have a remaining trick up his sleeve: He turned his gay romance into a screenplay, "The Way We Were." He didn't acknowledge

  My favorite Oscar-nominated film, currently, is "Puss in Boots: The Last Wish." (It's not in the main competition, but it's up for Best Animated Film.) Like Cinderella, Puss in Boots comes from the pen of Charles Perrault. Both characters are plucky, resourceful, resilient, and kind. Puss has nothing, at the start--but he acquires boots, then he talks his way into a job, and he finds ways to earn promotions for his master (again and again). He uses misleading clothing, harmless half-truths, and flattery to remake the world in a savvy way; he improves on God's work. "Puss in Boots II" begins with film icon Antonio Banderas; he is the titular puss, and he struts across the stage, asking, "Who is your favorite fearless hero?" He uses his sword to "liberate" free drinks for the commoners; we see kegs spewing out their contents, and the kegs are labeled "Leche." The film only improves from here: We watch as Puss does battle wit

  Salvy had a "weighing"; his dads had entertained high hopes that a new green-bean diet would do the trick. In fact, Salvy had not lost any weight. He had stayed exactly the same. My husband--ever the optimist--pointed out that this news was really a victory. "Given the trajectory he was on, just the fact of not-gaining is something to celebrate. If he had stayed on that old trajectory, he would now be the size of a U-Haul." My husband then did a thing he tends to do; he assumed the character of Salvy, and began speaking in a high-pitched dog voice. "I don't want to discuss this," he said. "Just hand me the cookie dough, and leave me alone...." Strangers sometimes comment on Salvy's weight. When this happens, I have to pause the Sondheim tune on my iPhone--and I have to pretend to take an interest in neighborly discourse. "Salvy has two toddlers in his life," I murmur. "And he tends to eat whatever gets left on the floor..

  Tomi Ungerer thought that picture-book writers should make their own illustrations; I tend to agree. The pictures are an extension of the words; it's all one vision. Great books have been written "by committee": I'm thinking of "Curious George," "Bedtime for Frances," the Marshall/Karlin "Cinderella." But I have a soft spot for the books that emerge from just one brain, one pen. Ross Burach is a young auteur living in Brooklyn. He is known for "I Love My Tutu Too," as well as "Truck Full of Ducks." Once, he took inspiration from Eric Carle, and he wrote the story of "The Very Impatient Caterpillar." The joke is that one loony caterpillar is at war with himself; he understands that everything has its season, but he also wants to search for cosmic shortcuts. Distressed at the thought of captivity within his cocoon, he still tries to be a "good boy"; he buys a self-help book entitled  You CAN Transfo

  Lydia Tar loves music; we know this, because she watches old clips of Bernstein lectures, and she weeps with joy. Lydia's talent leads to an EGOT and a prestigious role in Berlin. (London and New York are great, but THEY ARE NOT BERLIN.) The problem is that Lydia has a mean streak: She reduces a small child to tears, she (sort of?) drives a fallen protege to suicide, she humiliates her lead cellist without warning, and she shouts at a driver (maybe when the driver deserves, at most, a quiet word, in private). Additionally, Lydia breaks the rules. She destroys evidence in an investigation, and she cheats during an audition. A tradition in orchestras requires that prospective recruits play their prepared excerpts behind a screen--so that the conductor renders verdicts that are based purely on "sound." (The conductor isn't considering race, or gender, or manner of dress.) But Lydia peers beneath the screen, makes some quick deductions about footwear, and changes her ve

 My husband and I have a social goal; we have neighbors we'd like to befriend. The problem is that our son stole the neighbor-child's scooter. At a large outdoor party, Josh grabbed the scooter and wandered off, and the little girl began decrying the injustice. My sympathies are with the little girl--but any intervention with Josh leads to volcanic rage. You try to put toothpaste on his toothbrush, and he becomes a hellbeast; his irises turn yellow, and fangs emerge from his gums. There is a trope: the parent who insists her child is lovely, while that child detonates bombs in the background. Most recently, in the film "M3gan," the director had a mom proposing canonization for her child (while that same child screamed verbal abuse at the film's tiny leading actress). I don't want to be this kind of parent. When the occupational therapist blithely says, "Your son tried to swat at me, and you really shouldn't let him do that," I wonder what course

  In "Catastrophe," a husband, Rob, returns to his wife, Sharon, after an intercontinental trip. Sharon asks, "Did you masturbate?" "Definitely," Rob says. "But I held a little pillow to my chest and pretended I was hugging you." "I have a hard time masturbating now," says Sharon, who is pregnant. "I have to crane my neck around the fetus-bump--and then, well, I'm reminded that the baby is right there...." Rob and Sharon have married after a one-night stand. They're forty; they seem to like each other. Why not "give it a shot"? The problem is that Rob isn't really an adult; he wants to abandon his soulless corporate job to "work with large animals." Also, he has an alluring colleague who says, "You've been looking at me recently. Why don't we find a spot off-site--a spot where you could *really* look at me?" Finally, Rob has a problematic approach to sex; on the verge of an org

  Gemma is focused on her career, but a horrible car crash changes everything.  (Gemma's sister is driving with her husband; the two are arguing about whether excessive "screen time" has become a family issue. The argument is useless--wrong place, wrong time, both parents are clearly wrong, wrong, wrong--and anyone with small children will "relate." In the midst of the squabbling, a snow plow appears--and all adults immediately die.) Because of this snow plow, Gemma "inherits" her little niece, Cady. This is not the life Gemma imagined! She has work to do! How often can she take a deep breath and ask, politely, that Cady make proper use of the toilet-bowl flusher? (Again, if you have kids, you personally have lived through large stretches of this "movie.") Gemma happens to design toys, and she has a fancy Tokyo item that resembles a ball. She tries to explain its many functions to Cady--but a well-meaning therapist says, "Why don't y

 My son said his first full sentence: "I want to go." This was met with acclaim and celebration; the speech-therapy hour was reaching its end, and so Joshie's wish was entirely appropriate. Also, he didn't mince words. I admired his clarity. To relax, to savor the moment, Josh chose "Daniel Tiger," which is about a small tiger with minor social problems. Josh likes to study the tiger and to whisper "meow, meow" -- as if drafting lines of dialogue for an upcoming scene. I have my own thoughts on "Daniel Tiger." I'm troubled by the ways in which the English language is manipulated. "It's you I like." "You wake up ready to say,  I think I'll make a snappy new day ." Who uses words in this way? Someone needed to earn a paycheck, and he tossed in some random syllables to reach the end of a musical phrase -- but he forgot that parents everywhere need to listen to his work, and listen again, over and over. I keep

What I'm Reading:  Laura Zigman, "Small World . " This is a book about two adult siblings who reunite after divorce. In childhood, these girls were neglected; a third daughter had serious developmental issues, and there wasn't enough love to go around.  Zigman's brilliant plot has the sisters sharing space uneasily--until rude neighbors open up an illegal yoga studio upstairs. That's actually the novel. Loud noises from the yoga studio cause various family crises--and the sisters find that they must begin to talk to each other. I've never read a book like this; I really felt for these (fictional) people. Boynton, "Blue Hat, Green Hat." This is about a turkey who can't wear clothing in a proper way. He puts shoes on his head; he wears a coat on his beak. And that's the entire story; he doesn't learn anything. He forgets to strip to his skivvies before throwing himself in a deep, deep pool. I think I love this turkey as much as I love

 Children like a fish out of water, perhaps because children relate to the fish. In 1930, Babar entered the world; in his first book, he flees nature for the city, and he becomes enchanted by a "lift." (A clerk in the department store has to scold him, in a gentle way.) Ten years later, "Caps for Sale" made a splash; in this one, monkeys seize a variety of caps, and they struggle to communicate with the aggrieved cap vendor. It's only when an accident occurs that the story can get resolved. Then, in 1941, the Reys gave us the ultimate fish out of water: Curious George. George is a well-intentioned monkey, but his naivete leads him to half-drown, to summon a fire crew to a non-fire, to steal balloons, and to injure a jailor. (Maybe the jailor deserves his fate.) I see two obvious "heirs" to the Curious George throne; one is Paddington, and the other is Corduroy. Famously, Paddington struggles with a bathtub once he has made an exit from his Peruvian hom

 I'm ranking these from "interesting" to "really great" (disagree if you wish): (3)  Hi Mamas! Is Uni Kitchen ever open? I passed by just now, and it's closed, and the sign clearly says it should be "open" (photo attached). Who can explain? I like this because there is a real effort not to be a "Karen" on this site. But the effort evaporates if food is involved. ( Friday night at Sabatino's Pizza. I'm waiting ninety minutes for a simple pizza order! Is this normal??? ) (2)  Let's talk toilet paper. Is it even possible to find a roll that isn't "mega" sized? Nothing fits in my little wall divot? (Photo attached.) I like the photo, and I also like the solutions: (1) Purchase a free-standing paper-holder, almost like the kind you might use for paper towels, (2) Research  Who Gives a Crap , which is a special kind of toilet paper; you'll find home delivery options. (1)  Last week, I saw my own job description lis

 My son and I listen to Justin Bieber in the morning, and specifically, we listen to "Sorry." Like John Mayer, Bieber is known for saying stupid things. For example, he once had a narcissistic moment at the Anne Frank House; surrounded by evidence of an atrocity, Bieber was moved to say, "I really think Anne Frank would have been a be-lieber." In "Sorry," Bieber has just made a dumb comment. He is considering whether or not to apologize. First, he is defensive; it's the *listener* who is deficient. ("You gotta go and get angry at all of my honesty.") Next, Bieber tries to dilute the tension with self-deprecating humor: "I've made a mistake once or twice....or maybe a thousand times...." In the second verse, Bieber realizes he is losing ground. He moves closer to maturity--but he still has a gap to close. "I'll take all of the blame if you want me to." His childish heart can't help but speak up: "You know t

 One reason that I have questions about the NYTimes Book Review is that the critics can overlook a book like this. How could it fail to qualify among the "top 100" books of 2022? And then a reason I have trouble with the current Prince Harry interviews is that I recall Delaney's book, and I think hand-wringing about Camilla's media conduct seems so, so trivial. Rob Delaney had a child who was one, and he began to lose weight. The child had alarming pouches of skin; a doctor quickly confirmed that a tumor was growing next to the child's brain. Delaney's wife went to a separate room and began screaming; Delaney himself thought that he could magically solve the problem. (The parent will fix the child by assuming the child's burden; God will arrange a body-swap so a cosmic error can "get redressed," a patch can get stitched over the hole in the universe.) Many would shut down, but Delaney was a writer and observer, so he made notes on the ensuing hor

 "We really have to visit the JK Rowling bookstore." My husband and I dislike JK Rowling's work; there is frigid, driving rain; there is a lengthy line outside the bookstore; you have to pay to get in. But FOMO is strange. You can observe that all the tourists look really, really miserable--but, still, you want to have the experience they're having, because otherwise you will MO. You. Will. Miss. Out. Marc and I walk to the Livraria Lello, the third greatest bookstore in the world. (Whatever that means.) A hostile, underpaid employee screams at us; the screams are in reference to a "ticketing kiosk." Behind us, visitors from Germany begin to toss insults at the store employee, and the screams get louder. My heart races. "Run!" I whisper to my husband. "Run to the kiosk!" But the scanning process is slow; your fingers slip as you attempt to type your billing info into an iPhone; rainwater makes the iPhone grumpy. The line grows; Saigon is

 Was Whitney Houston an interesting person? Did she have political convictions? Did she read books? Did Houston help other artists? Did she mentor young singers? Was she an attentive friend? Watching the new Whitney movie, I thought of Mary Rodgers, daughter of a genius. Rodgers has said that she expected very little from her father, Richard Rodgers, who was severely limited as a human being. "He put all of his love into his music. I just learned to look for it there." "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" is an extraordinarily awful biopic, and its problems start with its title. Was the song "I Wanna Dance" an important mission statement for Whitney, a key that could unlock the meaning of her life? I don't see the evidence.  Since Whitney did not write her own material, it seems like her artistry was centered on the interpretation and the arranging (rearranging) of others' songs -- but the movie has almost nothing to say about this artistry. We don't

 Sometimes, people offer me unsolicited thoughts on work and parenthood. An acquaintance--someone with a career--informs me that having two children is "a full-time job!" Is it, though? And did I ask for this nugget? And if it's full-time, why did the speaker in question maintain a thriving professional practice while raising his own children? Another speaker--a neighbor--listens as I describe the strange quiet of a Wednesday morning. I'm whining, I guess, and so I've walked into a trap. "Just enjoy it," my neighbor says, in a bored way. "Enjoy the quiet." And he walks off. I want to shake this person and advise him to go take a flying fuck to hell. Did he "enjoy the quiet" when he became a father? No. He waged various high-profile anti-corporate battles and just dropped by his house, now and then, for quick visits, maybe on weekends. A third acquaintance writes to me on my birthday, and says, "I bet this is your noisiest, busies

  This movie was intensely interesting to me, because Dan Savage is an actual writer, and because there were a few small subversive moments in the middle. Savage has written a great deal about marriage and sex. It's been years since I read his two excellent memoirs--"The Commitment" and "The Kid"--but, as I recall, Dan and his husband Terry have a fairly open arrangement, and Dan has been candid about the various complications. (It's clear that Dan doesn't think an open marriage is *more* complicated than a conventional marriage; I think he'd say that all arrangements are complicated, and why not go ahead and look at the difficult parts?) In "Spoiler Alert," Savage is writing about someone's "look, but don't touch" agreement. This agreement doesn't work. One partner is fairly certain the other is "touching"--on top of "looking"--and, in fact, the suspicions are valid. Savage has a soapbox moment whe

 We have made our way from Lisbon to Porto, which was once the home of JK Rowling.  Apparently, Rowling was teaching here (I think?) when she stumbled on a certain bookstore, and that store inspired her to write the Harry Potter novels. Or something like this. The Porto bookstore has milked Hogwarts for all it is worth; you now have to pay money *just to enter* the store, and there is a massive crowd waiting outside, as if awaiting entry to the British Museum. Earlier today, we wandered into an exhibit devoted to the works of Aurelia de Souza, a woman who lived from 1866 to 1922. Ms. de Souza painted herself (see the lady attached to this post), painted flowers, painted children gossiping. I was touched by the images of the children, who reminded me of my critters back home. One image had two kids plotting mayhem while a half-interested sitter tried to focus on a little knitting project. Some things never change. I don't carefully read every tourist nugget, but my new understanding

 My Christmas gift to myself was to slip out of the house and off to Film Forum, which I hadn't seen since the dawn of Covid. I'm so happy to report that this great institution has survived tough times, and it's now accepting credit cards. A highlight of any visit is just the lobby, which is styled as a kind of "museum of movies," and right now you can see period-piece advertisements for a restoration of Bertolucci's "The Conformist" -- the big event on the horizon. The movie I went to see was Hitchcock's "Shadow of a Doubt." It's such a pleasure to observe a nearly full house awaiting a Hitchcock film at noon on a weekday. (Only in New York.) The people who present Film Forum revivals try to highlight quirks about the movies on display -- so, for example, Film Forum now wants you to know that "Shadow" is one of only two Hitchcock films where the villain is also, indisputably, the protagonist. (The other film is "Psyc