September 14, 2010 Events Lit Crawl: Sneak Peek of Issue 194 By The Paris Review This Saturday, The Paris Review unveiled its fall issue at Fontana’s. Photographs by Wesley Chen.
September 13, 2010 A Letter from the Editor GET READY By Lorin Stein Two days to go before we officially launch the fall issue—and with it, the redesigned Paris Review. We are told that copies have already arrived at a bookstore near us. Maybe also at one near you. For the curious, the contents include: interviews with Michel Houellebecq and Norman Rush fiction by Lydia Davis, Sam Lipsyte, and newcomer April Ayers Lawson essays by J. D. Daniels and John Jeremiah Sullivan poems by Carol Muske-Dukes, Dorothea Lasky, Frederick Seidel, John Tranter, Mark Ford, Daniel Bosch, Charles Harper Webb, and the late, great Giacomo Leopardi artworks by Tauba Auerbach and Colter Jacobsen We’ll be telling you more about these people, and showing you some of their work, over the next few weeks. But … it’s never too soon to subscribe!
September 13, 2010 Books Allegra Goodman’s Five Favorite Cookbooks By Allegra Goodman Allegra Goodman’s latest novel is the Cookbook Collector, a story about two radically different sisters, Emily and Jessamyn Bach, both living in California during the dot-com boom at the turn of the century. Jessamyn, a graduate student studying philosophy, works for an antique book store in Berkeley, owned by a retired Microsoft millionaire named George. One day, George discovers a cookbook collection of unparalleled quality, and with the aide of Jessamyn, attempts to acquire it for himself. Goodman’s novel is littered with references to heirloom cookbooks, some I had heard of (The Alice B. Toklas Cookbook), some I hadn’t, but wished I could read. Craving more, I asked Goodman to provide The Daily with a modest list of her favorite five. —Thessaly La Force 1. Ruth Graves Wakefield, Toll House: Tried and True Recipes. This cookbook from the 1930s contains a primer for brides with instructions on how to brew coffee, bake a potato, roast a chicken and bake an apple pie. Even I—scarcely a cook at all—can bake Johnnycake (Corn Bread). This book is truly useful. 2. At the other end of the spectrum—Barbara Tropp’s China Moon Cookbook is my fantasy cookbook, full of recipes I love to read. I bought this book in graduate school and I’ve never tried to a single recipe. They look delicious. I love Chinese food. But you see, you have to start by making your own Ten-Spice and Cayenne Pepper Oil. You have to roll out and cut your own soba noodles. Yikes. China Moon inspired my novel The Cookbook Collector with its motif of cookbook collectors who do not cook. 3. Jennie Grossinger’s The Art of Jewish Cooking is a down to earth and sensible book. My mother gave it to me when I got married, and her inscription reads: “This book contains some of my favorite recipes—Enjoy, enjoy—Mommy P.S. Try Chinese meatballs on p. 15.” 4. Bruce Aidells and Denis Kelly: The Complete Meat Cookbook a superb guide to roasts and chops for carnivores living in an all too vegetarian world. I mean really—who can survive on dandelions and ruffled kale? What, as my eight year old daughter says, is the “main chorus”? 5. My mother, Madeleine Goodman, was a superb and supremely unfussy cook. She liked her recipes simple, and her flavors clear and clean. I’ve come to see the difference between occasional cooks who like projects, and serious cooks who are there for you every night with a good healthy dinner. (How I miss her!) Well, my mother adored The I Hate to Cook Book by Peg Bracken. I see that this one is just now back in print, and I need to buy myself a copy, and one for my sister too. It’s very funny and also very good. Try the recipe for three bean salad. Delicious and perfectly balanced. Not too tart, like the bean salads you find at the salad bar.
September 11, 2010 On Sports A Win is Just a Win. A Loss… By Louisa Thomas A win is just a win. But a loss—a loss can be pain. When Vera Zvonareva was defeated by Flavia Pennetta in the fourth round of the Open last year, she suffered, and it was real suffering. She had six match points in the second set and converted none. That’s when the fear set in, and the doubt. She cried on the court. She pulled off the tape wrapped around her knees. She begged the chair umpire for scissors to cut the tape and then cursed at him when he denied her. She cursed and screamed, she fell, she beat her bleeding legs. Her grunts were howls. She smashed her racket into the net post. She paced and paced. When she sat in her chair during the changeover, she put a towel over her head. She wanted to disappear. She wanted not to lose. She lost the third set 6-0. Now, Vera Zvonareva is about to face Kim Clijsters in the final of this year’s U.S. Open. So far, Zvonareva has been the picture of poise. The wind? No problem. The no. 1 seed, Caroline Wozniacki? An easy victory, in a quick 85 minutes. While the stars have showed off their florescent hotpants and specially-designed dresses, Zvonareva has been wearing a white long-sleeved shirt, as if the matches were no big deal, only warm ups. She’s letting opponents beat themselves, playing high-percentage shots while they rack up errors. “I know I’m not going to play perfect tennis all the time,” she said after her win yesterday. She just wants to play well enough to win. This is admirable maturity. And yet, in my little warped heart, I can’t help but hope to see some flicker of fear in her eyes tonight. Not because I want her to lose—I want her to win. And not because she doesn’t belong out there, because she does. She was a finalist at Wimbledon; she’s a big hitter and an extraordinary physical specimen. I want to see the fear because that fear is honest. She is afraid, no matter what she says in those post-game press conferences. She has to be. She is facing the defending champion. Everyone will be watching her for some sign of cracking. It’s human, that fear. One second, everything is going right. The next, you’re in tears. And there’s nowhere to hide from your failure. I’ll be cheering for her.
September 10, 2010 Ask The Paris Review Excuses, Excuses—and Invitations! By Lorin Stein Dear Readers of “Ask The Paris Review”: Several of you have written in to enquire after my health. I’m touched by your solicitude … and very sorry to have no advice for you this week. All of us here on White Street and at Tierra Innovation are scrambling to launch our fall issue and our new website. Stay tuned! In lieu of advice, I offer you a poem on the subject of having no advice—and an invitation: if you are in striking distance of New York, please join us tomorrow night at Fontana’s Bar when we unveil the fall issue. Advance copies will be for sale. Contributors will read and may be persuaded to sign copies. There is talk of a raffle. The celebrations will begin at 8 o’clock and continue until we drop. On Sunday we’ll be at the Brooklyn Book Festival, booth #23, next to the fountain. I hope to see you one place or the other! Lorin
September 9, 2010 In Memoriam Thomas Guinzburg (1926-2010) By David Wallace-Wells It is with great sadness that The Paris Review has learned of the death of one of its founding editors, Thomas Guinzburg. A Marine veteran awarded the Purple Heart for his service in World War Two, and a former editor of the Yale Daily News, Guinzburg was just two years out of college when he became the Review’s first managing editor. He was also, nominally, a part-owner, having matched George Plimpton’s and Peter Matthiessen’s initial “investment” in the venture with a contribution of $500. He eventually became president of The Paris Review board of directors. He was planning the magazine’s fiftieth anniversary celebration with George Plimpton the night the editor died in 2003. Guinzburg was invaluable in helping direct The Paris Review in the years that followed. For many years the president of Viking Press, a publishing house established by his father, he later became chairman of the American Book Awards. He also served as consultant to Doubleday & Co. and as governor to Yale University Press. He will be missed by his many friends and admirers and remembered as one of the most distinguished publishers of our time. Read More