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THE FUTURE, director/actor Miranda July’s followup to 2005’s ME AND YOU AND EVERYONE WE KNOW is brave, unexpectedly poignant and devastatingly sad.
There is no question that somewhere in this collection poet Daniel Borztuzky is drawing a parallel between bureaucrats and terrorists, between politicians and increasingly dehumanized societies—both in America and abroad—but the connections are like underground cables: I can only guess at where I might dig to uncover them.
Multiple Google searches suggest that no one is celebrating the 400th anniversary of the second of Ben Jonson’s tragedies. I don’t think I will live to see a production of CATILINE, but attention should be paid to this awkward but powerful script. Filled with moral strength, perceptive realpolitik, and rich poetry, it proffers a brilliant serio-comic meditation on political gangsterism.
Originally published in 1963, and today considered by some critics a landmark in twentieth century Italian literature, in English Luigi Meneghello’s memoir feels more like a duty than a delight to read.
What I do suspect though, and find evidence for in BLOODLUST is that Freud is immune to any final dispatch or disproof, and will likely, through one portal or another, go on reinserting himself into our culture.
For everyone who feels the attraction but lacks the study, THE WORD EXCHANGE is a huge gift. It’s the most generous sampling I’ve seen of poetry translated from Old English and collected in one volume.
Head (mostly) north for August’s jazz festivals, which take us to Newport, Litchfield, Stonington, Martha’s Vineyard, New Haven, Lowell, Bar Harbor, Salem (MA) and Bangor.
A fascinating adaptation, well worth the trip to out-of-the-way Chester, MA, TURN OF THE SCREW is never less than interesting and often all-absorbing — especially when actress Allison McLemore lets loose.
There is an almost Biblical resonance of utter destruction and an improbable, fervid humor in the prose of ANIMALINSIDE as the beast speaks directly to us, its voice moving between trapped panic, cunning hunger, and a vicious savagery.
On bad days, I tell people that as far as I’m concerned, New York museums can all go to hell until one of them gives more substantial attention to Fairfield Porter as well as to give a solo show to Jane Freilicher.
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