In the course of eighteen years, beginning in 1994, the California-based
photographer Robert Dawson took pictures of hundreds of public
libraries across the United States. The results are collected in his new
book, The Public Library: A Photographic Essay (Princeton Architectural Press). newyorker.
Nella foto: Peterborough Town Library; Peterborough, New Hampshire
Dalton Conley, Parentology: Everything You Wanted to Know About the Science of Raising Children but Were Too Exhausted to Ask (Simon & Schuster). Di lui Rebecca Traister dice: "His name is Dalton Conley, and he’s a sociologist at New York University
who’s taken his own fatherhood, put it in the blender with his
professional interest in scientific inquiry, and produced “Parentology.”
He characterizes his technique as the opposite of everything uptight,
including “old-world parenting; traditional parenting; textbook
parenting; tiger mothering; bringing up bébé.” He’s not into that
ponderous, prescriptive stuff. His brand, he says, is more like “jazz
parenting,” an “improvisational approach.” nyt.
Ho trovato un articolo interessante su AlJazeera America sul presente/futuro degli intellettuali, "At their best, intellectuals do more than package their research into
digestible bits for policymakers or the public. They force us to think
beyond the limits of the day, to ask the questions no one is asking.
They are an invitation to imaginative excess and political trespass.
Academic experts in the mainstream media reassure us with their
authority; young intellectuals in the little magazines arrest us with
their divinations.
It may be, however, that the economics that make little magazines and
blogs possible also make them unsustainable. Many of these outlets rely
on the volunteer or nearly free labor of writers and grad students or
middle-aged professors like me. The former live cheaply and pay their
rent with a precarious passel of odd jobs, fellowships and university
teaching; the latter have tenure.
But grad students graduate, 20-somethings make families, and rents go
up. Struggling writers in 1954 could flee to tenured positions in
academia; their counterparts in 2014 will find no such refuge. Nearly
three-quarters of all instructional staff at colleges and universities
today are not on the tenure track. They’re insecure, contingent workers,
an army of cheap and casual labor that make the universities go. While
young writers can afford to do the kind of intellectual journalism we
see at the little magazines, older adjuncts teaching five classes can’t". Corey Robin, america.aljazeera.
John Carey parla della sua vita a Oxford, tra i super snob: "And there were also, of course, “toffs” everywhere. When Carey was asked
to take over the teaching of English literature at Christ Church, then
considered Oxford’s most aristocratic and exclusive college, for the
academic year 1958-59, he says now, “it really was like Brideshead Revisited. The snobbery was astonishing". timeshighereducation.
John Carey, The Unexpected Professor: An Oxford Life (Faber & Faber).
"Languages have been described as sounding “decent,” “terrible,” “whiny,”
“obnoxious,” and even “like a headache.” They are praised as
“efficient,” “advanced” and “modern,” or “sweet” and “poetic,” or
accused of having “too much vowels” or just sounding “strange” –
whatever that means. One critic even condemned a language as “annoying,”
which sounds like a forthright statement, if a bit judgmental". Bernd Brunner riflette sulla musicalità delle lingue. thesmartset.
Tablet dedica un interessante articolo a Barbara Aiello, l'unica rabbina italiana.
"When Rabbi Barbara Aiello
founded the synagogue Ner Tamid del Sud six years ago in Serrastretta, a
mountain town of 3,600 in Italy’s Calabria region, there weren’t many
self-identified Jews around. The closest congregation was in Naples, a
four-hour drive away.
But Aiello—an Italian-American whose father was born in Serrastretta,
and who moved from Florida back to her ancestral village in
2006—suspected many locals had Jewish roots, even if they didn’t know
it. ...
As Aiello traveled throughout the region, she
was astounded to discover that many local Catholic families kept Jewish
traditions: candles lit on Friday night, mirrors covered for mourning, a
red string tied around a baby’s wrist to ward off evil—a Kabbalistic
ritual. To her, it was evidence that despite centuries of persecution,
mass conversion, and forced exile, Judaism had managed to survive in
Italy". tablet.
E' uscito - dopo 15 anni - un nuovo libro di racconti di Lorrie Moore, Bark (Knopf), ma pare sia deludente.
"Most of the stories in “Bark” are set in the tundra of middle age, and
deal with divorce, death, disillusion or other sorts of hurt. There are
some deeply affecting moments here — mostly involving children — but
they remain just that: moments, islands in stories that, for the most
part, are heavy-handed and forced. Many of the characters come across as
synthetic types, instead of as specific people delineated intimately
from within. And all too often, Ms. Moore’s custom blend of jokes, inner
road maps and social observation devolve into what read like imitation
Lorrie Moore stories". Michiko Kakutani, naturalmente, sul nyt.
A questa domanda rispondono due scrittori.
Adam Kirsch: "Spectacle and melodrama remain at the heart of TV, as they do with all
arts that must reach a large audience in order to be economically
viable. But it is voice, tone, the sense of the author’s mind at work,
that are the essence of literature, and they exist in language, not in
images. This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be grateful for our good TV
shows; but let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that they give us what
only literature can".
Mohsin Hamid: "I
now watch a lot of TV. And I’m not alone, even among my colleagues. Ask
novelists today whether they spend more time watching TV or reading
fiction and prepare yourself, at least occasionally, to hear them say
the unsayable.
That
this represents a crisis for the novel seems to me undeniable. But a
crisis can be an opportunity. It incites change. And the novel needs to
keep changing if it is to remain novel. It must, pilfering a phrase from
TV, boldly go where no one has gone before. nytbr.

English literature has for centuries courted the rain. The Canterbury Tales,
the first great epic of English daily life, starts out with the sweet
showers of April which bathe the dry land. This first shower is an
alluringly sensual one, piercing the earth, finding its way into every
bodily "veyne" of plants and people alike. If Mediterranean writers
found their hot dry climate conducive to love songs, the English were
not going to miss out on the competing erotic potential of rain. For
Edmund Spenser, too, launching The Faerie Queene from a
standing start as Una and the Redcrosse Knight go gently "pricking on
the plain", rain is the beginning of narrative. Weather breaks into the
stillness: "The day with clouds was sudden overcast, / And angry Jove a
hideous storm of rain / Did pour." The change has been made; the action
begun. Moving to shelter, the protagonists find themselves in
Faerieland, with adventure springing up around them. These rainy
beginnings loosen language and storytelling into life. Rain, being
rained on, and finding shelter will become central subjects and
structuring principles of British writing. ... Alexandra Harris, guardian.