Many Things, Again
Before I get to the many thing, a quick shout-out to writer Sara Gran, whose books make me insanely jealous because they’re just so rich and layered and readable. Over the holidays, I finished The Infinite Blacktop, the last book in the Claire DeWitt1 mysteries. My mind was so very blown by how biting and humane her work is; it opens up festering wounds so that they can be cleansed. And it’s funny? In a very black way?2
If I were going to needlepoint an very large pillow,3 I’d put this quote on it:
”It was a book that seeped into your bones and changed you from the inside. It would pierce through the lifetime of armor you had built around your heart and show you how you hard protected the wrong things, hidden you best and, like a miser, given the world your worst. The fact that this was exactly what the world had asked of you could no longer be an excuse.
”Now, you had the bricks of truth, and your only responsibility was to build your road.”
I mean … come on.
Now on to Gran’s The Book of the Most Precious Substance. She started her own publishing company in order to get it in readers’ hands and eyeballs and ears. I understand that impulse more each day and bow down to her moxie.
A short video about a gorgeously made book about coffee, pizza toast, and walking in Japan.
Speaking of (Japan), I want to go there.
Speaking of (books), how great are these book covers?
I have long wondered about the staircases in Montreal.
The story about the Capitol One Cafe in Mother Jones is worth a read. The quote below sets the tone well:
“As I sat down, I messaged my editor, Jacob Rosenberg, on Slack to let him know “i am in capitol one cafe [sic].” He replied: “Please note in your article I did not require this. I did not ask you to do some gonzo journalism. You’re a sick freak and did this to yourself.” I looked up. I was the only customer.”
Good Lord. Can we just leave buccal fat in our faces? Seriously.
There is so much goodness in this Craft in America episode — but I really want to see Syd Carpenter’s sculptures (she’s just up at Swarthmore) and visit Wharton Esherick’s house (it’s just down in Malvern).
Woof. This NYT story about the Kentucky bunker house and the legislator is a doozy.
Imma start pointing to this opinion piece whenever pundits ask what rural voters want.
It seems as if siblings and basketballs are more hazardous to penises than you’d imagine.
To be absolutely transparent, let me confess I’ve never been to a Cheesecake Factor. Now I want to go there.
Gran’s work also seems to speak more to women (however you define that) than men (ditto). Most of the guys I’ve pressed the first book on, gimme a big ol’ side-eye when they hand it back. Most women wanna high-five. So YMMV, is what I’m saying. #anecdata
Or maybe a series of pillows? But I’d always have to make sure they were in the correct order, which seems like even more work.
we share a love for footnotes
For certain definitions of “fun.”