Liars and Saints

  Here is the Alice Munro timeline. At nine years of age, Andrea Skinner is sexually assaulted by her stepfather. She almost immediately tells her own father and his new spouse--and they do nothing with the information. Skinner's stepfather begins a years-long campaign of verbal harassment. In her teens, Skinner struggles with bulimia; later, she can't finish college. At 25, she shares her traumatic memory with her mother, Alice Munro. Upset by "infidelity," Munro briefly leaves her spouse. But the separation is inconvenient; she returns. She blames her daughter for having acted as a "Lolita." Around ten years later, Munro speaks with the NYT and describes her marriage in glowing terms. This is sickening for Skinner, and she takes legal action. Her stepfather admits, in writing, that he is a sexual predator, and he gets a light sentence. Because of Munro's literary reputation, the court case is kept a secret (or something very close to a secret), That

  "The Frindle Files" has three memorable characters, and the first is the spirit of E.B. White. Yes. In a way, this is a novel that resurrects White. We learn that White actually studied with Strunk; years passed, and in his "eminence grise" phase, White revisited Strunk's work. White then made some edits, and "The Elements of Style" became a bestseller. A second character, Allen Nicholas, teaches middle-school English, and he seems to have an unjust hatred of computers. The mystery of his hatred, or pseudo-hatred, forms the core of the book. Finally, we have one of Allen's students, who decides to crusade on behalf of computer-loving children everywhere. This kid is wide-eyed and extremely relatable; he does an awkward dance with a lampshade, which is caught on camera. He thinks obsessively about coding; even in social situations, he finds that his thoughts drift toward "binary questions" and programming errors. The way these three char

  My son's behavioral coach has a certain style, which I call "street smarts." Sometimes, we're all getting sucked into a vortex of bad behavior. The children are fighting about something--say, access to a crushed, filthy bottle cap. There is a strong wish to use reason, appeals to logic--and this never, never works. The coach just suggests a sing-song tone and a change of subject. Change the setting! She is ruthless, in this way. Also, I find I have an idea of who I "should" be, and this is tiresome. I should be someone who wants to attend the "parent social hour" after Back to School night. I should be someone who schedules FaceTime with my children if I'm away on a trip. The behavioral coach says, "That's all nonsense. Don't go to the social hour, and don't plan FaceTime. A FaceTime session with Papa is just confusing, if you're three years old. And do you want to talk to all those awful parents when you don't *have*

  Allen Say won acclaim--and a Caldecott--for his beautiful story, "Grandfather's Journey." One feature of that book is that it does not shy away from describing the stupidity of war; Grandfather survives the bombing of Hiroshima, but after rebuilding his life, he "never keeps another songbird." Say looks at war once again in "The Bicycle Man." This is about a memory from Say's own childhood. The war in Japan has just ended; Say is a little student in a school made of gray wood that "creaks like a ship." The school is on a tall green mountain, and when the winds blow, the trees make "the sound of waves." As the story begins, little Say is practicing sportsmanship; no matter who wins an interscholastic foot race, "we're here to have fun." It's in this context that an American soldier arrives. Time stands still. Is the soldier a threat? Is it possible for everyone to maintain a sense of calm? This is a subtle, ma

The Times observes that 1999 saw the birth of both "The Sopranos" and "Law and Order: SVU." It also points out that the true star of 99's graduating class was "Freaks and Geeks." Although "Freaks and Geeks" ended early, it influenced TV through shows that can be seen as tonal "spin-offs": "Girls," "Somebody Somewhere," "Louie." (The critic doesn't mention "Better Things," but I would add "Better Things.") Correctly, the "Times" notes that F&G is *not* a show about losing, but about persevering *after* loss. If you're going to tell a story without a major gimmick, then you really need a well-defined point of view, and F&G has this. Several tiny moments show us who we are. We are all creatures who put on a brave face despite various aches and pains. Here are a few memorable scenes from F&G: *A mother plans to hand out Halloween candy with her adolescent da

 On Monday evening, I met Jonathan Groff; he was charming and seemingly "normal," and I mostly remembered to pay attention and act like this was standard chit-chat. The brief audience gave me an opportunity to ask a question I'd been saving, i.e.,  Which will be your next Sondheim protagonist ? And Groff gave the answer I had sort of anticipated: Georges Seurat. Here is what surprised me: Groff has a rather elaborate vision for his (hypothetical)  Sunday in the Park  revival. His co-star will be Lea Michele--because, like Georges and Dot, Groff and LM have a complex bond that has been broken and re-made and re-re-made over many years. (LM had an unrequited love for Groff, but unlike Dot, LM didn't really have "a shot." That's because Groff was, and is, gay.) Additionally, Groff wants to take the production to Central Park--the site of his triumph in the musical  Hair.  I'm not sure a piece as delicate as  Sunday  can survive an outdoor production; I&