{"id":101688,"date":"2016-08-19T12:47:38","date_gmt":"2016-08-19T16:47:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=101688"},"modified":"2016-08-19T13:16:09","modified_gmt":"2016-08-19T17:16:09","slug":"staff-picks-marlys-menopause-mallet-percussion","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2016\/08\/19\/staff-picks-marlys-menopause-mallet-percussion\/","title":{"rendered":"Staff Picks: Marlys, Menopause, Mallet Percussion"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cThe one thing no one will tell you is that these feelings and this behavior will last ten years. That is, a decade of your life. Ask your doctor if this is true and she will deny it.\u201d In Mary Ruefle\u2019s hands an essay about menopause becomes an essay on the human condition; ditto an essay about shrunken heads, and one about milk shakes, and one about dealing with crumbs. We published \u201cMilk Shake<\/a>\u201d in our Spring issue as a prose poem\u2014and it is that\u2014but reading her collection My Private Property<\/a><\/em>, I\u2019m struck by the conversational quality of this new work, by its anthropological spirit, and by its stubborn emphasis on the facts as Ruefle has found them\u2014whatever your doctor, or hers, or anyone else, may say to the contrary.\u00a0\u2014Lorin Stein<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cOne day I was drawing my weekly comic strip, and as I drew the frame, I had a half-memory of being with my cousins after seeing the torch light parade \u2026 9 kids crammed into one car\u2014no seatbelts, 3 adults smoking \u2026 And suddenly we were all just throwing up parade food at the same time. On top of this image was a half-memory of staying overnight at a neighbor\u2019s house. Nine kids. The mom said things like \u2018Holy<\/u>\u00a0Balls<\/u>!\u2019 When I make a comic strip, I let these sorts of images lead and combine as I move my pen. I try to let one line lead to the next without plan. The only thing I have to do is stay in motion. That\u2019s what I was doing when I first saw Marlys.\u201d Lynda Barry has been drawing the freckled, bespectacled, opinionated eight-year-old since 1986; to my mind, Marlys ranks with Charlie Brown as one of the most genuine and poignant adolescent protagonists in serial comics. The newly updated and expanded collection, The Greatest of Marlys<\/a><\/em>, has been my beach reading this week. If you haven\u2019t read Barry, let this book be your gateway: she is one of a kind, and with Marlys, she is irresistible. \u2014Nicole Rudick\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"bobby-hutcherson-medina-1969-a\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Like most young professionals, I harbor secret ambitions of rebranding myself as a mallet percussionist. Sometimes I check eBay for a semiaffordable vibraphone, and usually I find one, and I don\u2019t buy it, and I beat myself up about my failure to commit, and then the whole cycle repeats itself a few months later. The death this week of Bobby Hutcherson<\/a>, one of the most distinctive vibraphonists in jazz, has renewed my aspirations. Hutcherson came to prominence in the sixties post-bop era, and he approached the vibraphone\u2014whose aluminum bars, whirring tremolo motor, and sustain pedal give it a warm, haunting resonance\u2014with an ear for harmony unlike any player that preceded him. Listening to records like Components<\/a><\/em>, Medina<\/a><\/em>, and Stick-Up!<\/a><\/em>, I\u2019m struck by the doleful timbre of the instrument as it comes through in his solos, and by the seemingly infinite dimensions of his chords as they linger in the air. If you\u2019re looking for a sound track to a late-summer weekend, you could do much worse. \u2014Dan Piepenbring<\/strong><\/p>\n

The stories in Charles D\u2019Ambrosio\u2019s first collection,\u00a0The Point<\/a><\/em>, are deceptive. At first glance, they read like barren sketches shot through by a sad, sad humor. At least that\u2019s how I remembered the collection until last week, when I decided to revisit it. To my surprise, these pieces aren\u2019t just haunting snapshots, they\u2019re stories in which fully realized lives play out (read:\u00a0end<\/em>). Death looms large in these pages, as D\u2019Ambrosio allows his characters to establish and destroy themselves in the course of a single story. And though loss is at the heart of the book, he avoids consoling the reader with hazy aphorisms. Instead, brutally but gracefully, he evokes life\u2019s small oddities, ushering our gaze to the wreckage of a car crash, for example, in which \u201ca plastic Jesus drip[s] down off the dash like a lump of black Velveeta.\u201d Moments like this cast the entire book in a bleak but unforgettable light\u2014if I misremembered the general structure of\u00a0The Point<\/em>, it’s because I so vividly recalled its aura: lonely, measured, and wistful.\u00a0\u2014Taylor Lannamann<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"206772\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The majority of my writing has been academic, and I sometimes worry that this is a liability. I\u2019d like to be able to bring readers into the fold of an idea; too often academic writing pushes them out. This week\u2019s discussion of academic writing<\/a>\u00a0on\u00a0The Awl\u00a0<\/em>led me to James Miller\u2019s piece, \u201cIs Bad Writing Necessary?<\/a>\u201d, a nuanced essay written fifteen years ago for\u00a0Lingua Franca.\u00a0<\/em>Miller looks at leftist political writing and traces the debate about whether the more effective critique of the status quo comes from clear and simple writing, or from esoteric writing that might be more precise. Miller\u2019s piece is journalistic, so his conclusion\u2014in favor of clear writing\u2014isn\u2019t surprising. What is surprising is his generosity toward defenders of the esoteric approach, such as Judith Butler and Theodor Adorno, whose questions\u2014can anyone be truly enlightened or politically moved by an idea that they\u2019re able to grasp easily?\u2014Miller raises without dismissing them. Miller situates Adorno\u2019s thought in a way that makes its excesses more comprehensible, but he still presses him on the central failing of his writing: that his commitment to prose too esoteric to be subverted by capitalism also precludes its political efficacy. Miller\u2019s writing is rich, provocative, and context heavy, but also clear\u2014his piece itself may present a way out of the morass it so carefully describes.\u00a0\u2014Sylvie McNamara<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cThe one thing no one will tell you is that these feelings and this behavior will last ten years. That is, a decade of your life. Ask your doctor if this is true and she will deny it.\u201d In Mary Ruefle\u2019s hands an essay about menopause becomes an essay on the human condition; ditto an […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[438],"tags":[24033,22450,24026,24030,131,24027,71,24031,330,20294,24032,1459,24035,10366,24028,24024,2165,7221,165,24036,9619,7845,883,24029,24025,23237,10355,24034],"class_list":["post-101688","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-this-weeks-reading","tag-academic-writing","tag-bad-writing","tag-bobby-hutcherson","tag-charles-dambrosio","tag-comics","tag-components","tag-fiction","tag-james-miller","tag-jazz","tag-judith-butler","tag-lingua-franca","tag-lynda-barry","tag-mallet-percussion","tag-mary-ruefle","tag-medina","tag-my-private-property","tag-nonfiction","tag-poems","tag-poetry","tag-post-bop","tag-recommended-reading","tag-short-stories","tag-staff-picks","tag-stick-up","tag-the-greatest-of-marlys","tag-the-point","tag-theodor-adorno","tag-vibraphone"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nStaff Picks: Mary Ruefle, Lynda Barry, Bobby Hutcherson<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"What the staff of The Paris Review is reading this week.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2016\/08\/19\/staff-picks-marlys-menopause-mallet-percussion\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Staff Picks: Marlys, Menopause, Mallet Percussion by The Paris Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"August 19, 2016 \u2013 \u201cThe one thing no one will tell you is that these feelings and this behavior will last ten years. 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