Liars and Saints

 One thing my spouse has--that I lack--is gracious forbearance. We are arguing about Joe Biden. "I love the guy," says my husband. "I think he's a great man." "Oh? I think he is a bully who antagonized Anita Hill. Also, he was condescending to Elizabeth Warren. He wanted to help credit card companies trample all over normal Americans, by making it more difficult to declare bankruptcy. Warren fought with him, and Warren was right. Not only did Joe pick the wrong team, but he did it in a way that was high-handed, patronizing. I think he is sort of an asshole." There is no way I understand the magnitude of Biden's achievement, and of course it's juvenile to pick a few rotten moments from an ambitious life, and then make sweeping generalizations. But my other half simply nods, and ponders the issue. By contrast, I have no patience when Marc dares to say, "I'm just not wild about Whitney Houston." "Excuse me? She is almost univers

  A favorite subject of Sondheim's was unrequited love; we see it in Mary ("Merrily We Roll Along"), Lovett, Sally Durant, Fosca, John Hinckley, Jr. A standout in this canon is Charlotte, who is possibly both the wisest and the dumbest character in "A Little Night Music." She has married a straying brute, and despite her formidable strength, she just can't stand up to this guy. She loves him. He smiles sweetly, strokes my hair... Says he misses me. I would murder him right there-- But, first, I die. He talks softly of his wars-- And his horses--and his whores... Charlotte's "little death" is the death of pride; she is humiliated, on a regular basis. But a little death is also an orgasm; Charlotte feels an erotic charge in her spouse's company. The song evokes thoughts of Chekhov--how the private life runs parallel to "the river of public behavior." Charlotte contrasts the superficial details of her morning with the storm that is h

  Ariana Grande has one of the songs of the year, according to the NYTimes--and it's a letter to a former friend. (Critics have suggested it's really a way of talking about a star's relationship with the media, and it's easy to see that layer in the verses.) Ariana gives her reasons for "an Irish exit." The most recent fight was explosive. "I don't wanna tiptoe, but I don't wanna hide--but I don't want to feed this monstrous fire." What makes the song so interesting is that Ariana concedes something like ambivalence. She isn't simply empowered by walking away; she obviously feels regret (or one-half of her feels regret). We can't be friends-- But I'd like to just pretend. You cling to your papers and pens-- Wait until you like me again. The sense of ambivalence recurs in the strange bridge: Know that you made me-- Don't like how you paint me, yet I'm still here hanging. Not what you made me-- It's almost like a day

  "Why don't you brand yourself as an ADHD expert?" she says. "There are all kinds of online courses. There is a market for this." I start to whine. "That sounds so boring. I have a graduate degree. I already know what to do." "I'm sure you're clever, dear, but it's possible that the world of education has evolved in the fifteen years since you finished night school. It's possible that people know new things about child development. And maybe there is something you could learn." "I'd rather take a course on Herman Melville. Something purely impractical." The career coach surprises me. "That I understand," she says. "When I was home with my babies, basically contemplating suicide, I chose to study various rabbinical traditions at the local synagogue. And I think it saved me." It's clear to me that this person doesn't care so much *what* I do; it's just crucial *that* I do something.