Scotland (THE TAYLOR SWIFT CHEAT SHEET)

I will be away in Scotland for a while, and will resume posting sometime around July 25.

P.S. Bonus! Below is THE TAYLOR SWIFT CHEAT SHEET! Enjoy!

The Taylor Swift Cheat Sheet

Some of the literary devices TS uses very well:

Intertextuality: When one piece of writing refers to another.

These are the hands of fate;

You're my Achilles heel.

This is the Golden Age of something good, and right, and real.

(TS is alluding to the Iliad; she also seems to be alluding to the Classical Period of Actual Greece.)

You said you'd never met one girl

Who had as many James Taylor records as you

But I do.

(This isn't really a reference to a James Taylor song, but the words "James Taylor" are so evocative and recognizable, I think TS is using them to stand in for: "everything that is moody and smart.")

I'm dancing on my own.

I'll make the moves up as I go.

(Here, TS is tipping her hat to Robyn, to "Dancing on My Own." She might also be tipping her hat to Lena Dunham, whose show "Girls" made use of "Dancing" famously in Season One.)

And:

You were Romeo; I was the Scarlet Letter.

And my daddy said, Stay away from Juliet.

Metaphor: Well, examples of this are just everywhere.

Cherry lips, crystal skies.

I can show you incredible things.

And:

So you were never a saint

And I loved in shades of wrong.

We learn to live with the pain--

Mosaic broken hearts.

And:

Don't you worry your pretty little mind;

People throw rocks at things that shine.

Irony: TS uses this all the time.

I'm really gonna miss your picking fights

And me--falling for it, screaming that I'm right.

And:

Oh my God, look at that face!

You look like My Next Mistake.

And:

I stay out too late!

Got nothing in my brain!

And:

My mistake: I didn't know to be in love

You had to fight to have the upper hand.

And: Found-Object Art. I think TS did this once, with "Ronan." In that song, she just took blog posts from a woman whose baby had died of cancer--and she set the blog posts to music.

And: the Hero's Journey. This is a well-worn structure for a story. A hero leaves an Ordinary World for an Enchanted World, meets varied allies and tricksters, does battle with a dragon, and emerges with some kind of magical elixir. A fine example is "All Too Well." Here, TS "walks through the doors" with Jake Gyllenhaal. "The air was cold." She has left the bosom of her family! She meets new characters: Maggie Gyllenhaal, talking about her brother's years on "the tee ball team." Mama Gyllenhaal, speaking "of your past, thinking your future is Me." In this world, even the refrigerator light is magic; it becomes a spotlight in a ballroom. ("Dancing round the kitchen in the refrigerator light.") But the ally becomes a trickster; Jake Gyllenhaal is in fact a dragon who must be defeated. ("You call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest.") TS escapes--sadder but wiser. ("It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well.") Now I'll use real hyperbole: When Sylvia Plath was very young, she kept diaries, and she recalled pedestrian adolescent flirtations as if they were major calamities. She was learning how to "mythologize" herself. I think TS does that, too.

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...

Liars and Saints

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