Adolf Kaufmann, Sonnenuntergang in Winterlandschaft (Sunset in Winter Landscape), n.d., oil on canvas, 29 x 39 1/4″. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Happy New Year! This note is both a hello and a goodbye, in some manner. After an eventful nine months of The Art of Distance—thirty-nine installments, to be exact—we’ve decided to retire this Monday fixture. That’s not because we’re not still socially distanced (we are, and are still working from bedroom desks and dining room tables), or because we’re ready to show the lower halves of our faces in public (we’re not, and are still masked and glad, at least, for the winter windscreen), but because while we’ve had a good run, we are eager to try some new things in this new year. The Art of Distance was always meant to be a temporary endeavor, and we are grateful that it could offer a literary context—as well as some inspiration, some entertainment, and some comfort—to readers around the globe through a tumultuous time. Read More

In March, The Paris Review launched The Art of Distance, a newsletter highlighting unlocked archive pieces that resonate with the staff of the magazine, quarantine-appropriate writing on the Daily, resources from our peer organizations, and more. Read Emily Nemens’s introductory letter here, and find the latest unlocked archive selections below.

“ ‘O winter closing down on our separate shells,’ Diane di Prima writes in her poem ‘Rondeau for the Yule.’ As many of us have been ensconced in our separate shells for most of this year—and as many East Coasters got a white shell of snow to cap that of the pandemic—Di Prima’s closing line struck a loud chord in this reader. With the year winding down, I felt another peal at Eavan Boland’s ‘Inscriptions,’ a poem that begins in ‘holiday rooms’ but cannot ignore ‘the deaths in alleys and on doorsteps, / happening ninety miles away from my home.’ Beyond their prescience, these poems are notable in that both of these poets passed away in 2020. In this time of incalculable loss, I wanted to conclude the year’s Art of Distance with work from some Paris Review contributors to whom we said goodbye this year. Whether you’re spending the holidays with family or with a good book, I hope this reading, and remembering the remarkable work of these writers, brightens the weeks ahead. We’ll be back in January.” —EN

George Steiner.

Marvin Bell: “Then it is dark. The great streak of sunlight / that showed our side of snowy peaks has gone ahead.” Read More

In March, The Paris Review launched The Art of Distance, a newsletter highlighting unlocked archive pieces that resonate with the staff of the magazine, quarantine-appropriate writing on the Daily, resources from our peer organizations, and more. Read Emily Nemens’s introductory letter here, and find the latest unlocked archive selections below.

“ ’Tis the season of gift giving. Whether you celebrate Hanukkah, Christmas, something else, or nothing in particular, you’re probably finding yourself engaged this month in the process of wrapping and unwrapping presents. For some, gift wrapping is an exercise in achievable perfection—neat corners, perfect creases, tasteful bits of tape in all the right places, a gorgeously appointed bow to top it off. For others (I include myself in this group), it is torture, a comedy of errors that begins with forgetting to measure before cutting the wrapping paper and ends with a finished gift that looks like a lumpy quilt sewn by a baby. But it’s the thought that counts, right? Below, you will find many such thoughts in a series of stories and poems that touch upon the gift-giving season. Read on for fantastical presents, perfect presents, and wrapping disasters. These are gifts that keep on giving, and there is something, I hope, for everyone. Speaking of the gift that keeps on giving, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that a subscription to The Paris Review (for yourself or someone else) and TPR merchandise also make great gifts, and while it may be too late to deliver them by Christmas, we have this elegant gift card that you can print out and put under the tree—or wherever you lay your gifts. Happy holidays, happy reading, and stay safe.” —Craig Morgan Teicher, Digital Director

Photo: Tomasz Sienicki. CC BY 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0), via Wikimedia Commons.

Joel Stein’s poem “A Gift for You” offers some things that everyone needs but that are very difficult to give. Read More

In March, The Paris Review launched The Art of Distance, a newsletter highlighting unlocked archive pieces that resonate with the staff of the magazine, quarantine-appropriate writing on the Daily, resources from our peer organizations, and more. Read Emily Nemens’s introductory letter here, and find the latest unlocked archive selections below.

“As we revealed last week, the Winter 2020 issue of The Paris Review features the theater—an Art of Theater interview with Suzan-Lori Parks and excerpts of three new plays by David Adjmi, Kirk Lynn, and Claudia Rankine. Read more about the genesis of this special issue and the collaboration with guest theater editor Branden Jacobs-Jenkins in my editor’s note. This week, we hope you pick up the new issue (it’s available online now and hitting newsstands Tuesday, December 8), but in the meantime I wanted to share some earlier theatrical content from the Review. Read on for unlocked pieces from issue no. 142, the last installment of the Review with a theatrical focus, but also from another touchstone issue—no. 39, which features conversations with twentieth-century theater titans Edward Albee and Harold Pinter. For another dose of theater, RSVP for our issue launch event on December 16 at 6 P.M. ET. It will feature a live table read from Kirk Lynn’s new play, The First Line of Dante’s ‘Inferno.’ Until then, read well, stay healthy, and have a good week.” —EN

Photo: Albarubescens. CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0), via Wikimedia Commons.

Wendy Wasserstein’s Art of Theater interview includes a conversation about humor in the theater. “Humor masks a lot of anger, and it’s a means of breaking up others’ pretenses and of not being pretentious yourself.” Read More

In March, The Paris Review launched The Art of Distance, a newsletter highlighting unlocked archive pieces that resonate with the staff of the magazine, quarantine-appropriate writing on the Daily, resources from our peer organizations, and more. Read Emily Nemens’s introductory letter here, and find the latest unlocked archive selections below.

“Thanksgiving will feel different this year. With so many of us unable to gather around tables with friends and family, I thought it might be nice to spend some time with literature that brings us together for memorable meals: sumptuous dinners, rollicking celebrations, and even some awkward dining room discussions. May we vicariously sit at these crowded tables, even as there may be empty seats at our own. Sam White’s poem ‘Memo’ captures what I hope these stories, poems, and interviews can offer during this strange week. The poem, which starts with a demolition, ends with a holiday meal. The closing lines: ‘Come sit by me. Before it gets cold. / Here is something. / You’d better start.’ And while fewer of us will be taking planes, trains, and automobiles this week, I cannot forget Frederick Seidel’s memorable Thanksgiving journey: the time he took a bus to see Ezra Pound. Read that story and many others in Seidel’s Art of Poetry interview. Dig in, dear readers. This year I’m grateful for writers and readers and how literature has helped carry us through. Have a happy, healthy holiday.” —EN

When I think of raucous meals among friends, I don’t know who would win the cook-off: the epic brunch in Deborah Eisenberg’s “Taj Mahal” or the Russian banquet in Andrew Martin’s “Childhood, Boyhood, Youth.” Read More

In March, The Paris Review launched The Art of Distance, a newsletter highlighting unlocked archive pieces that resonate with the staff of the magazine, quarantine-appropriate writing on the Daily, resources from our peer organizations, and more. Read Emily Nemens’s introductory letter here, and find the latest unlocked archive selections below.

“We’re heading toward winter, which in the book world means prize season is upon us. There won’t be banquets and after-parties this year, but these awards do afford book lovers the opportunity to look back on something other than politics and COVID—and to reflect on books that have helped us understand and weather this tumultuous era. This past week, Souvankham Thammavongsa was named the winner of the Scotiabank Giller Prize, which celebrates the best of English-language Canadian fiction. Among its past winners are many who, like Thammavongsa, have graced the pages of The Paris Review. This week’s The Art of Distance joins in the celebration by unlocking interviews with and stories by Giller honorees as well as other notable Canadian writers. Happy reading, and stay safe.” —Craig Morgan Teicher, Digital Director

Mavis Gallant. Photo courtesy of Mavis Gallant.

Mavis Gallant, who spent much of her life in France, was very much a world citizen. But when asked about her home in the Art of Fiction no. 160, she said, “I am a writer and, of course, a Canadian.” There’s much more here about writing and traveling and the tether that binds an artist to a place. Read More