{"id":758,"date":"2004-08-10T09:55:41","date_gmt":"2004-08-10T16:55:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp\/2004\/08\/oh_please\/"},"modified":"2004-08-10T09:55:41","modified_gmt":"2004-08-10T16:55:41","slug":"oh_please","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/2004\/08\/oh_please.html","title":{"rendered":"OH, PLEASE"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><P>James Atlas writes <A class=inline\nhref=\"http:\/\/www.newyorkmetro.com\/nymetro\/news\/culture\/features\/9605\/index.html\"\ntarget='new\"'><B><FONT color=#003399>&#8220;The Fear This Time&#8221;<\/FONT><\/B><\/A> in the<br \/>\ncurrent New York magazine. I suppose the title is intended to bring to mind James Baldwin&#8217;s <A\nclass=inline\nhref=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/ASIN\/067974472X\/qid=1092145243\/sr=ka-1\/ref=pd\n_ka_1\/103-9515304-4979048\" target='new\"'><B><FONT color=#003399>&#8220;The Fire Next<br \/>\nTime,&#8221;<\/FONT><\/B><\/A> which is already a sign of overreaching and totally inappropriate. The<br \/>\npiece itself reads likes an overwritten essay by an overwrought hysteric. Atlas leaves no doubt of<br \/>\nthat with his hand-wringing.<\/P><br \/>\n<BLOCKQUOTE>Living in New York is like a terminal disease: You start awake in panic every<br \/>\nmorning, your stomach knotted, your heart plunging in your chest. But as the day wears on,<br \/>\nyou&#8217;re not even aware that you&#8217;re going about your life. An event that will surely qualify as one<br \/>\nof the most astounding in the whole of recorded history has occurred not a mile from you. It&#8217;s as<br \/>\nif you just happened to be a shepherd tending your flock near Pompeii when Mount Vesuvius<br \/>\nerupted, or a seventeenth-century London publican glancing out the window of his establishment<br \/>\nin the Strand to glimpse the flames consuming London. That two hijacked, passenger-loaded<br \/>\ncommercial jetliners should plunge into the World Trade Center and topple it to the ground,<br \/>\nreducing almost 3,000 innocent civilians to ash, was beyond imagination &#8212; but I still have to drop<br \/>\noff the dry cleaning and go to the bank.<\/BLOCKQUOTE><br \/>\n<P>Compare that with Baldwin. The difference in the quality of the writing, to say nothing of the<br \/>\nsentiment, is like night and day.<\/P><br \/>\n<BLOCKQUOTE>I do not mean to be sentimental about suffering &#8212; enough is certainly as good<br \/>\nas a feast &#8212; but people who cannot suffer can never grow up, can never discover who they are.<br \/>\nThat man who is forced each day to snatch his manhood, his identity, out of the fire of human<br \/>\ncruelty that rages to destroy it knows, if he survives his effort, and even if he does not survive it,<br \/>\nsomething about himself and human life that no school on earth &#8212; and, indeed, no church &#8212; can<br \/>\nteach. He achieves his own authority, and that is unshakeable.<\/BLOCKQUOTE><br \/>\n<P>At least the magazine also offers <A class=inline\nhref=\"http:\/\/www.newyorkmetro.com\/nymetro\/arts\/tv\/reviews\/9595\/index.html\"\ntarget='new\"'><B><FONT color=#003399>John Leonard on two<br \/>\ndocumentaries<\/FONT><\/B><\/A> about reality &#8212; &#8220;Death in Gaza&#8221; and &#8220;The President Versus<br \/>\nDavid Hicks&#8221; &#8212; without the Upper West Side seepage.<\/P><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>James Atlas writes &#8220;The Fear This Time&#8221; in the current New York magazine. I suppose the title is intended to bring to mind James Baldwin&#8217;s &#8220;The Fire Next Time,&#8221; which is already a sign of overreaching and totally inappropriate. The piece itself reads likes an overwritten essay by an overwrought hysteric. Atlas leaves no doubt [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-758","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-main","7":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbvgEs-ce","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/758","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=758"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/758\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=758"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=758"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=758"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}