March 22, 2013 This Week’s Reading What We’re Loving: Romanian Cinema, African Art By The Paris Review For three years—ever since it came out—people have been recommending this unusual family history, by a potter named Edmund de Waal, all about the fate of a collection of Japanese miniatures whose owners migrated from Odessa to Paris to Vienna. And for three years I took their word for it. Because really, a book about somebody’s heirlooms? Then one night last week, all keyed up from three hours of House of Cards, I pulled down The Hare with Amber Eyes (a gift copy), hoping it would put me to sleep. Fat chance. I’d expected charm, but here was astringent wit, quiet erudition, just the necessary amount of first person, and an unromantic, sharply observed, very poignant account of a Jewish family’s rise and fall between the Belle Epoque and World War II. From House to Hare: from the frying pan into the fire. —Lorin Stein I debated recommending the Romanian film Beyond the Hills, not because it isn’t terrific—a fact that will come as no surprise to anyone who saw director Cristian Mungiu’s first feature, 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days—but rather because so many critics have done it more justice than I ever could, and because I found watching it so harrowing an experience. Loosely based on a real-life 2005 case of an exorcism in a Moldavian monastery, the film is a horror movie, a romance, a character study, and, most of all, the kind of true tragedy we normally don’t see, or feel. It’s long and slow paced, but utterly riveting; I came out of the theater completely shell-shocked. I don’t think I could sit through it again, but you’ll be making a mistake if you don’t see it while you can. —Sadie Stein Chimurenga is a difficult magazine to define: a collection of African art, comics, journalism, and photography, every edition looks entirely different (to give you an idea of its inscrutability, the October 2011 edition was set in May 2008). The founder is also a DJ who runs a jazz bar, and sometimes hosts twenty-four-hour secret jam sessions. There are no invites and no posters; the Chimurenga motto is “who no know go know.” Their latest venture is Chimurenga Chronic, a “pan-African quarterly print gazette” that deals in everything from art and faith to dirty deals and cricket stars. (To get a sense of its sweep, try “The Last Words of Fela Anikulapo Kuti” and the interactive comic strip.) Print availability is another matter: Chronic was due out on the streets “now-now,” which in South Africa translates roughly to “it’ll be out when it’s out, which will probably be soon, we can’t say exactly when, but we know you want to keep your eyes peeled for it. And it might already be out, so look sharp.” —Olivia Walton Read More
March 22, 2013 In Memoriam Chinua Achebe, 1930–2013 By Sadie Stein “We live in a society that is in transition from oral to written. There are oral stories that are still there, not exactly in their full magnificence, but still strong in their differentness from written stories. Each mode has its ways and methods and rules. They can reinforce each other; this is the advantage my generation has—we can bring to the written story something of that energy of the story told by word of mouth. This is really one of the contributions our literature has made to contemporary literature.” —Chinua Achebe, the Art of Fiction No. 139
March 22, 2013 On the Shelf Chinua Achebe Dies, and Other News By Sadie Stein Chinua Achebe has died at eighty-two. The Guardian rereleases a stirring interview with the Nigerian literary giant. (Yes, the words “things have fallen apart” have been, appropriately, invoked.) An Oxford University librarian has been fired after students staged a textbook Harlem shake on her unwitting watch. It’s been a while since we gawked at literary tattoos. If you feel this lack keenly, this one’s for you.
March 21, 2013 The Revel Countdown to the Revel By The Paris Review Here at 62 White Street, preparations for our Spring Revel are in full swing! Our office is brimming with loot for our guests: limited-edition Paris Review tote bags; archival copies of the magazine; our recent anthology of short stories, Object Lessons; loads of books by Paula Fox, the Revel’s honoree and the recipient of this year’s Hadada Award; and surprises yet to be revealed. Variously described as “the best party in town” and “prom for New York intellectuals,” the Spring Revel is legendary for a reason. Tuesday, April 9, join Paris Review readers, supporters, and writers at Cipriani 42nd Street for an always unforgettable evening of cocktails, dinner, and revelry. Writer hosts include Hilton Als, Michael Cunningham, James Fenton, Zoë Heller, Lewis Lapham, Katie Roiphe, Leanne Shapton, Wallace Shawn, Zadie Smith, Gay Talese, and many more. Get your tickets here!
March 21, 2013 First Person Half-Life By Patrick Monahan “Sorry, wasn’t there a cabaret here?” a British woman asked the waiter. He was laying a napkin on the table and put a glass of white wine on top of it. For a second, I thought the woman was talking to me. “Oh yes,” the waiter said, “this part of the bar used to be the Oak Room. They only put that wall up a couple of months ago.” He tapped a panel between her table and mine, then put an identical glass of wine in front of me. The Algonquin Hotel’s Blue Bar lived up to its name: neon tubes snaked clear around the narrow room, reflecting their blue glare on its oak panels and plastic banquettes. Hirschfeld prints covered the walls and Sinatra crooned from a speaker in the ceiling. I wanted to answer the woman, but found myself far away from her. “Ladies and gentlemen,” a baritone voice announced, “The Oak Room is proud to present … Steve Ross!” The crowd applauded. Candles flickered inside their glass holders. A curtain at one end of the room parted, and Steve appeared in Noël Coward’s emerald smoking jacket. He wove through the tables, making his way to the grand piano. The crowd hushed, and he began to play Porter, Gershwin, and the saloon songs he knew I liked. “If it isn’t the jeunesse dorée!” he beamed at me after the show, shaking hands with people as they filed out of the Oak Room. “Did you know,” he told me when most of them were gone, “that the first Algonquin Round Table was right over over there?” He pointed to a corner of the Oak Room, just on the other side of the door from where we were standing. Waiters were clearing the tables; the baritone in the light booth was pulling on his coat. Alexander Woolcott might as well have been lingering over lunch. Read More
March 21, 2013 Quote Unquote Happy March 21 By Sadie Stein “You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.” —Pablo Neruda