As school wraps up, I'm thinking of my favorite commencement speech (a speech by Ann Patchett). Patchett recalls being an undergrad at Sarah Lawrence. She is utterly alone. She has traveled from Tennessee. She has no idea how to spend her time--so she decides to bake cookies for her advisor (who seems like a friendly person). This is--subtly--a metaphor for a writer's life. A writer (or any artist) is someone who feels a weird compulsion to make, make, make. Here, the story becomes something like a fable. Patchett assembles the cookies--but the oven doesn't work. Desperate, she wanders across the road, where she spots a fabulous house. And she asks the owner if she can borrow the oven. The owner happens to be the new president of the college, who has a small family. "And--because I spent time playing with the kids--I was invited back to babysit. And eventually (quickly) I helped to create a little tribe." On some level, Patchett had understood that a tribe was w...
In the conditional love song, two people have to pair off *without* pairing off. We in the audience see their chemistry--even if they themselves do *not* see their chemistry. The two halves of the song can be mildly antagonistic ("People Will Say We're in Love"). Or the duet can be reasonably peaceful--but with a "this-is-just-pretend" theme ("They Say It's Wonderful"). It's worth noting that Oscar Hammerstein wrote a disproportionately large number of conditional love songs. And--though Irving Berlin *apparently* wrote "Annie, Get Your Gun"--there is a persistent rumor that Hammerstein was "Gun"'s ghostwriter. My own favorite conditional love song is "I'll Know," from "Guys and Dolls." Ostensibly, the two leads are arguing. Sarah Brown insists that her lover will be a version of Ned Flanders. Sky suggests that love should be a bit less predictable. Sky quietly mocks Sarah, making reference to a...