Liars and Saints

 The best Barnes and Noble is just north of Grand Central; it's at Fifth Avenue and 46th. It has a functional bathroom, it has proximity to Broadway, and it has a well-organized flow of traffic by the cash register. (If you go up to the Upper East Side, it's *chaos* at *that* particular cash register.) I strongly recommend getting yourself a cup of tea and sitting with an unpurchased copy of "Changing My Mind," by Julian Barnes. No one will care if you don't spend money on that book. The stockholders within Barnes and Noble are *not* suffering. The book is a short account of how Julian Barnes once disliked the works of E.M. Forster--until he grew older and changed his mind. He realized that Forster was sort of saucy and naughty. (Barnes had missed this fact for several years.) For whatever reason, I think this essay is charming. Barnes especially likes "Where Angels Fear to Tread." There was one unfortunate scene from my own life at the midtown Barnes an...

  A spooky story beloved by my family is "The Night It Rained," by Alvin Schwartz. It's immediately unnerving. A man is driving in the night when he spots an underdressed boy in the rain. He offers a sweater to the boy (Jim), and Jim becomes a passenger in the car. The man drives Jim home and says, "I'll just stop by tomorrow for the sweater." But the next day, the man meets Jim's mother, who is confused. "My son is not alive," she says. "He died last year." The narrator then visits Jim's tombstone--and the borrowed sweater is draped over the lettering. I love this story because it demands that the reader make inferences. We can imagine that the man visits Jim's house during daylight hours because he is concerned about possible neglect (and the sweater is a helpful thing to pretend to focus on). We might also guess that Jim is spotted walking on the road because this is the region where the *living* Jim was once struck by a ca...

 Sharon Horgan is among my favorite TV writers. I really enjoyed "Catastrophe," "Divorce," and the first season of "Bad Sisters." (Horgan's apparently groundbreaking series--"Pulling"--seems to be unavailable in the US, though I've tried.) Horgan is so important to me, she has changed my reading choices. I don't really listen to anyone regarding book recommendations. But I'll listen to Sharon Horgan--she has directed me to "Rosemary's Baby" and to the Dolly Alderton novel "Good Material." One of my Mount Rushmore selections, in terms of serialized narrative, is Adam Goldman's "The Outs." Goldman was inspired to write this because of Sharon Horgan's "Pulling." So I was pleased by the arrival of "Youth." The pilot is standard Sharon Horgan: The Horgan character, Alex, turns sixty and gets arthritis in her jaw, meaning she can no longer give BJs. She hasn't had sex in ...

 Brad Pitt is so good in this movie. He is just acting opposite a dog--really, four dogs (taking turns). In sum, you are watching a two-hour monologue delivered by Brad Pitt. Pitt has survived a war (maybe the most recent war in Iraq?) His "battle dog," Odin, has also survived, but Odin has lost a leg and developed a now-lingering case of PTSD. The two friends travel to Alaska for rest and relaxation. Pitt has a heart attack while trying to pilot his little plane--this then becomes a survival/adventure story. There are three main antagonists: a rushing river, a bear, and a pack of wolves. Pitt, the actor, makes a smart choice; he will not "externalize" his despair. So he becomes something like Henry Fonda or Gregory Peck; it's just a joy to watch him. The trick about camera work is that viewers *want* to ascribe human feelings to dogs. You show an image of a suffering child--and then you show a dog's face--and the viewer *reads* empathy in the dog's eyes...

 I saw him at a party for "Zootopia 2." Our kids were involved. My frenemy's husband made no indication that he had been reading my autobiographical essays. My frenemy's husband works in real estate--but he wants to abandon that world in favor of a political career. He posts many angry short films about Trump and about ICE--I can tell that these gestures are gratifying for him. He met my husband for coffee--and for a chance to discuss how he can  really make a difference --and my husband listened in a polite way. This leads me to recall a favorite scene from a Lorrie Moore story. An undergrad, wearing a large leather bow, visits a history professor. "I just want my major to mean something," she says. And the professor says, "That's your FIRST problem. Have a great afternoon." The professor adds, "I really love your bow." I understand the issue of career fatigue. I'm grateful not to work in real estate. Even tutoring--which has the...

  This is a painting that has "grabbed" me for several years. A woman and a Roman soldier are accusing Peter of being a friend of Christ. There are three pointed fingers -- one for each of the three accusations (or the three denials). As he tells a lie, Peter seems to humble himself; he is not holding his head up, and he has not put his shoulders back.  Amy Bloom wrote several stories about an aging couple of adulterous horndogs; as the years go by, the man and woman understand that they will likely need to split up. (They have behaved very badly. Once, the woman expressed her frustration by crushing her lover's fancy wristwatch with the wheels of a car.) As the date of the breakup lunch approaches, the woman reflects that this won't be pretty. "Neither one of us will leave covered in glory." That line reminds me of Caravaggio's painting. Peter is embarrassing himself. But, also, the accusers are acting in a shameful way. The woman seems drunk with rage,...