“Uncle George had personal appeal, but after all, what was appeal? Something that concealed inadequacy, and it was startling to think perhaps that was why he himself had it.”
John P. Marquand, Women and Thomas Harrow
OGIC: Pocket jackpot
I just came back from the neighborhood used book store, where I was selling some books, thereby freeing up some much-needed bookshelf space and bringing in some not unwelcome cash. I was on my way out of the store with the cash in my hot little hand, on the verge of making a cleanly profitable getaway, when something caught my eye. It was a whole shelf packed with old Anchor and Vintage paperbacks illustrated by Edward Gorey. Ooh and ouch. Some were books I’ve long hoped to find. And there went twenty-five percent of my cash. Easy come, easy go.
As long-time readers know, I collect Gorey books and have an especially soft spot for his early oeuvre. Looking again at the gallery maintained by the folks at Goreyography.com, I see that I still have a long way to go before my collection is complete. But the highlights of today’s haul, some of which can be viewed over there, are:
An Elizabethan Song Book, songs selected by W. H. Auden, bright green for the grass and yellow for the lute.
TT: Budapest, N.J.
I’m in today’s Wall Street Journal, reviewing two shows, both excellent, albeit in very different ways.
The first is a revival of She Loves Me that runs at at New Jersey’s Paper Mill Playhouse through Dec. 5:
For those unhappy souls as yet unfamiliar with “She Loves Me,” it’s based on “Parfumerie,” a comedy by Hungarian playwright Mikl
TT: Almanac
“The long way is the short way.”
Wayne Shorter (quoted in Michelle Mercer, Footprints: The Life and Music of Wayne Shorter)
OGIC: Prelude to more posting
Things have changed in my life this week, and I’ve been a bit slow to devise new routines for myself. Of course, in many ways this has been a less-than-routine week for all of us. But today is the day I embrace normalcy again, even if I have to make up “normal” as I go along. In short: more (real) posting soon! Very soon! In the meantime, a couple of salient points:
– I no longer have an up-to-the-minute computer with a high-speed connection regularly at my disposal. While I work on making my home computer a meaner, leaner machine, I’m going to be especially slow answering email. I seem to need a system update to be able reliably to access ALN‘s web-based email. Patience, please.
– Turns out that one of my favorite dishes, Jambalaya, is easy and quite fun to make! I adapted this recipe according to what I had in the house: two ribs of celery and a jalapeno pepper, all finely diced, in place of the parsley. Also: no cloves in my jambalaya, thank you very much. Results: delicious.
We will shortly return you to your regular arts blogging.
TT: Almanac
“He was a dangerous man–a convinced man.”
Joseph Conrad, Under Western Eyes
OGIC: You can change your life
Yes, New Yorkers, I’m looking at you. Erin McKeown, providing the soundtrack to my life since October 2004, performs this Saturday at Irving Plaza with The Waifs, and tickets are still available. How lucky can you get?
OGIC: Communication breakdown
Justine Larbalestier cuts right to the way I am feeling this week in a lovely essayette. An excerpt:
I’m all for different perspectives, different ways of living, of seeing the world. One of the glories of being in other places is seeing how varied the world is. I’m so relieved Buenos Aires isn’t exactly like Sydney. That there are places where people don’t know who Elvis is. Spending time in the US I am thrilled every time I discover pop cultural memories the yankees have that I don’t. Growing up in Australia I always thought I knew all about the USA, I could name all the states, knew a tonne about its music and movies and literature, but I didn’t, not even close. I still don’t really know this country, I probably never will. That makes me happy.
But the gulfs. All those Bob Evans people and Baristas people living in the same towns, same cities, sometimes shopping in the same stores, or going to the same churches, who can’t talk to each other, or if they do, can’t make any sense of what the other says. Whose different worlds are so completely incompatible there’s no room for each other in them. That makes me sad.
Read this musing, too. Oh, just go ahead and bookmark her already!
(Thanks to lovely CAAF for the link. A girl with a 4-letter acronym can’t be wrong.)