(5) Janet Malcolm is back. I wrote about her mid-week and then, as if summoned, she reappeared in the New Yorker!
I had been describing "Thoughts on Autobiography from an Abandoned Autobiography." If you go and read that piece, you will sense Malcolm surely isn't done wrestling with this genre (the world of autobiography). And, lo and behold, the *new* piece (in the current NYer) again concerns autobiography. Because we're talking about Malcolm, we're talking about an odd essay. Malcolm is open about her skepticism and the lapses in her memories; the gaps between the stories she tells herself and the actual truth. She has a digression about peonies vs. roses (!), which leads to a discussion about "the idea of the absolute" in art. There's a comical and sad allusion to her early school experience in America, when she could not understand English and imagined that "Children" referred to a specific student (a student more favored than Janet Malcolm). "Goodbye, Children, said the teacher, and I thought, one day, I will be as popular as this girl Children is. One day, I, too, will earn my teacher's love."
Lorrie Moore says you get to write until you're eighty--but I don't see why that should be true. Donald Hall wrote beyond eighty. Diana Athill wrote beyond eighty. And Janet Malcolm is doing the same. And she's doing it in her bizarre, trailblazing way. Such an inspiration. May a book-length Malcolm memoir arrive very soon.
(4) A new crime novel, not just from McDermid, but also from Ian Rankin. And did you see that Stephen King has a--relatively short--"holiday" book out? A novella? It's "on order" at the NY Public Library, so this still counts as "on the horizon."
(3) Tim Burton's live-action version of Dumbo. Did you forget that this was happening?
(2) Julia Roberts makes a TV series! Yes. It's called "Homecoming"; I think it will be on Amazon Prime. Starting a week from yesterday. Generating positive buzz. And "House of Cards" also returns (same day). This will be "Cards"'s final season.
(1) I've said it before, I'll say it again. "Merrily We Roll Along" is returning to New York City. In preparation/celebration, let's recall some of its spitfire, throw-away-brilliance moments. "It's called: Nothing's Fair. And It's All a Plot. And Tomorrow Doesn't Look So Hot. Right? You better look at what you GOT. OK? Now you know!" (The cheeriest, briskest "Life Sucks" anthem I'm aware of! Smart because it's counterintuitive. Sondheim could include a dirge here, but instead he has characters making light of life's misery. I'm reminded of certain moments in "Avenue Q.")
"Old friends do leave their brands on you, but old friends shouldn't compete." "Old friends don't make demands on you." "SHOULD make demands on you." "Don't make demands you can't meet." "Well, what's the point of demands you CAN meet?"
"It started out like a song. It started quiet and slow, with no surprise. And then one morning, I woke to realize: We had a good thing going...."
"I'm Beth." ("I'm Frank.") "I really thought I stank!"
"Feel the flow...feel what's happening....We're what's happening..."
One could go on (and on). A good story shows personal change--over time. You get that from "Merrily" (even if the change unfolds in reverse). So it's a tragedy: Why shouldn't it be? I'm hoping Roundabout gets every nuance; does its casting intelligently; rehearses with joy and care; and gets this right.
I had been describing "Thoughts on Autobiography from an Abandoned Autobiography." If you go and read that piece, you will sense Malcolm surely isn't done wrestling with this genre (the world of autobiography). And, lo and behold, the *new* piece (in the current NYer) again concerns autobiography. Because we're talking about Malcolm, we're talking about an odd essay. Malcolm is open about her skepticism and the lapses in her memories; the gaps between the stories she tells herself and the actual truth. She has a digression about peonies vs. roses (!), which leads to a discussion about "the idea of the absolute" in art. There's a comical and sad allusion to her early school experience in America, when she could not understand English and imagined that "Children" referred to a specific student (a student more favored than Janet Malcolm). "Goodbye, Children, said the teacher, and I thought, one day, I will be as popular as this girl Children is. One day, I, too, will earn my teacher's love."
Lorrie Moore says you get to write until you're eighty--but I don't see why that should be true. Donald Hall wrote beyond eighty. Diana Athill wrote beyond eighty. And Janet Malcolm is doing the same. And she's doing it in her bizarre, trailblazing way. Such an inspiration. May a book-length Malcolm memoir arrive very soon.
(4) A new crime novel, not just from McDermid, but also from Ian Rankin. And did you see that Stephen King has a--relatively short--"holiday" book out? A novella? It's "on order" at the NY Public Library, so this still counts as "on the horizon."
(3) Tim Burton's live-action version of Dumbo. Did you forget that this was happening?
(2) Julia Roberts makes a TV series! Yes. It's called "Homecoming"; I think it will be on Amazon Prime. Starting a week from yesterday. Generating positive buzz. And "House of Cards" also returns (same day). This will be "Cards"'s final season.
(1) I've said it before, I'll say it again. "Merrily We Roll Along" is returning to New York City. In preparation/celebration, let's recall some of its spitfire, throw-away-brilliance moments. "It's called: Nothing's Fair. And It's All a Plot. And Tomorrow Doesn't Look So Hot. Right? You better look at what you GOT. OK? Now you know!" (The cheeriest, briskest "Life Sucks" anthem I'm aware of! Smart because it's counterintuitive. Sondheim could include a dirge here, but instead he has characters making light of life's misery. I'm reminded of certain moments in "Avenue Q.")
"Old friends do leave their brands on you, but old friends shouldn't compete." "Old friends don't make demands on you." "SHOULD make demands on you." "Don't make demands you can't meet." "Well, what's the point of demands you CAN meet?"
"It started out like a song. It started quiet and slow, with no surprise. And then one morning, I woke to realize: We had a good thing going...."
"I'm Beth." ("I'm Frank.") "I really thought I stank!"
"Feel the flow...feel what's happening....We're what's happening..."
One could go on (and on). A good story shows personal change--over time. You get that from "Merrily" (even if the change unfolds in reverse). So it's a tragedy: Why shouldn't it be? I'm hoping Roundabout gets every nuance; does its casting intelligently; rehearses with joy and care; and gets this right.
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