{"id":143755,"date":"2020-03-27T16:01:25","date_gmt":"2020-03-27T20:01:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=143755"},"modified":"2020-04-07T12:53:55","modified_gmt":"2020-04-07T16:53:55","slug":"staff-picks-puddings-pastels-and-plano","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2020\/03\/27\/staff-picks-puddings-pastels-and-plano\/","title":{"rendered":"Staff Picks: Puddings, Pastels, and Plano"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_143946\" style=\"width: 1010px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/emma.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-143946\" class=\"size-full wp-image-143946\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/emma.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1000\" height=\"696\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/emma.jpg 1000w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/emma-300x209.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/emma-768x535.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-143946\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Still from Autumn de Wilde\u2019s <em>Emma.<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n<p>The coronavirus has thrown a wrench into Aries season, but plans for my March birthday remained unchanged. I watched Autumn de Wilde\u2019s <a href=\"https:\/\/www.focusfeatures.com\/emma\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">new adaptation of Jane Austen\u2019s <em>Emma<\/em><\/a> entirely alone. I am a harsh critic when it comes to film versions of Austen and consider myself a purist\u2014a champion of the <em>Pride and Prejudice<\/em> BBC miniseries, which culminates in Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy diving into a pond at Pemberley, scantily clad by Regency standards. As far as <em>Emma<\/em> is concerned, I am a tried-and-true disciple of <em>Clueless<\/em> and find Cher Horowitz hard to match, even by a silky-skinned, pre-Goop Gwyneth Paltrow in the 1996 version. Anya Taylor-Joy, however, is the perfect Emma, exuding a quiet, even intimidating confidence; her tight blonde curls and perky ruffs are a flawless manifestation of her character. Emma\u2019s world, too, is an appetizing spectacle in de Wilde\u2019s film, the walls of the Woodhouse estate painted in decadent pinks and greens. To match, every inch of the banquet tables is covered in absurd towers of cakes, puddings, and tarts. Against my recent sluggish tendencies, <em>Emma<\/em> has inspired me to action. I will surely emerge from this quarantine an accomplished lady with a penchant for matchmaking, clad in only hand-stitched ruffs, and always poised for a contra dance. <strong>\u2014Elinor Hitt\u00a0<\/strong><!--more--><\/p>\n<p>What\u2019s more exciting about having a mutual crush than the unspoken lexicon of codes and signals that you both somehow know to employ? Like the lingering glances when you pass each other in the hallway. It\u2019s a touchstone of high school life, and so it is for Olivia, the eponymous protagonist of <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/1531\/9780143134404\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Dorothy Strachey\u2019s 1949 novel<\/a> about a teenager who develops a crush on the headmistress of her new boarding school in fifties France. Coded language is essential to LGBTQ literature of a certain era, though I\u2019d argue that <em>Olivia<\/em> has a relatively heavy hand (possibly because Strachey wasn\u2019t certain it would ever be published). Olivia\u2019s vivid desire is interwoven with the enlightenment of her education (the moment she falls in love is when Mlle Julie reads aloud from Jean Racine\u2019s <em>Andromaque<\/em>). The complications of the boarding school\u2019s all-female world, its relationships and jealousy, soon unfurl into tentacles that threaten to strangle all involved. But through the melodrama cuts the fresh frankness of Olivia\u2019s all-consuming ardor, and in her Strachey captures perfectly the urgency, excitement, and fire of a first adult crush.\u00a0<strong>\u2014Lauren Kane<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<div id=\"attachment_143947\" style=\"width: 1010px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/springbreakers_09.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-143947\" class=\"size-full wp-image-143947\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/springbreakers_09.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1000\" height=\"667\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/springbreakers_09.jpg 1000w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/springbreakers_09-300x200.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/springbreakers_09-768x512.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-143947\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Still from Harmony Korine\u2019s <em>Spring Breakers<\/em>.<\/p><\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>This week, as news of stubborn college students flooding Florida and Gulf Coast beaches made the national news, I\u2019ve been thinking a lot about Harmony Korine\u2019s 2012 film <a href=\"https:\/\/a24films.com\/films\/spring-breakers\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>Spring Breakers<\/em><\/a>. It\u2019s a trip, on many levels\u2014the classic road trip story of four coeds (including, notably, Selena Gomez) escaping the rigid confines of their Christian college for a memorable week on the beach. Also trippy: the bacchanalian scenes, shot with glee (fair warning: there is a lot of booty) and a tremendous eye for color (Korine seems to have mainlined the pastels and neons of Miami Beach). Trip number three: James Franco playing a high-ish roller named Alien\u2014it\u2019s a bombastic role, played with relish, and a lot of fun to watch. Of course things go sideways, operatically so. Come for the vicariousness; stay for the cautionary tale. I don\u2019t wish ill will on any undergrad, and it\u2019s unfortunate that spring break (along with book tours, major league baseball, and a million other things we were looking forward to) got canceled, but after watching <em>Spring Breakers<\/em> again, I am more confident than ever that sometimes it\u2019s best to stay off the beach. <strong>\u2014Emily Nemens<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Last year, the nominees for the Goldsmiths Prize in experimental writing included the intriguingly named <em>Good Day?<\/em>, by Vesna Main, a Croatian writer living in London. I hadn\u2019t heard of her, but descriptions of the plot intrigued me, and so I hastily started to search for more information about Main\u2019s work. Described by her publisher as \u201cvariations and fugue on the theme of obsession,\u201d her 2018 short story collection <a href=\"https:\/\/www.saltpublishing.com\/products\/temptation-a-user-s-guide-9781784631284\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>Temptation: A User\u2019s Guide<\/em><\/a>\u00a0is a witty compendium of recalibrations of Modernism, from \u201cMrs. Dalloway\u201d\u2014a sly contemporary take on Virginia Woolf\u2019s classic\u2014to \u201cLove and Doubles,\u201d whose fascinating thesis concerns the plagiarism of desire. Along the way, Main explores violence, obsession, and love in a series of stories that are as clever as they are formally interesting. <strong>\u2014Rhian Sasseen<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The adrenaline started way before the lights came up and has never faded. This past spring, my gentleman and I realized we had one last chance to see our genius friend Taylor Reynolds direct a play in our own neighborhood. We had ten minutes. We made it. Were there seats? We were on standby. Then we were sitting front row, stage left, and I have never been more scared nor laughed harder in a theater\u2014screen or stage. We were watching <a href=\"https:\/\/www.clubbedthumb.org\/productions\/2019\/plano-2019\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>Plano<\/em><\/a>, by Will Arbery, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2020\/03\/25\/whiting-2020\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">who won a Whiting Award<\/a> on Wednesday night. I wish I had been in a room of people to shout at the top of my lungs\u2014I know that if New York continues, I\u2019ll have another chance. <em>Plano<\/em> is about three sisters who are in a space-time vortex in Texas\u2014or is it the vortex of family and habit? The dialogue spins ahead by a clever tick in which Arbery has the characters explain, \u201cIt\u2019s later,\u201d without missing a beat. It\u2019s a tidy joke on storytelling, on stagecraft, on metafiction, and on the audience: \u201cIt\u2019s later. I\u2019m pregnant.\u201d There are fucking belters, and there is a man without a face. The sister who has a string of ailments explains the whole span of contemporary health anxiety: \u201cNO, I\u2019m fine. It\u2019s celiac. It\u2019s endometriosis. It\u2019s fibromyalgia. It\u2019s FULL UTERINE FAILURE.\u201d There is a husband who splits into two\u2014one of whom (spoiler) is smothered with Karl Ove Knausgaard\u2019s <em>My Struggle<\/em>. There is no description of the play I can give to credit its lift. Any number of these devices could have been stickily cerebral, but instead, Arbery\u2019s feeling (the man has seven sisters) and Reynolds\u2019s <a href=\"https:\/\/www.newyorker.com\/goings-on-about-town\/theatre\/plano\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">good judgment<\/a> brought me to tears of laughter, joined fully by the women behind me. So delighted were we all that we stood talking after the show\u2014together in our admiration. Someday again there will be theaters, big and small, filled with people. Here\u2019s hoping that when the lights come up again, they\u2019re on Will Arbery. <strong>\u2014Julia Berick<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<div id=\"attachment_143948\" style=\"width: 1010px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/plano.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-143948\" class=\"size-full wp-image-143948\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/plano.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1000\" height=\"667\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/plano.jpg 1000w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/plano-300x200.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/03\/plano-768x512.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-143948\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Performance view of Will Arbery\u2019s <em>Plano<\/em>, 2018.<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This week, the staff of \u2018The Paris Review\u2019 reads Vesna Main, longs for the theater, and considers the Austen adaptation.<\/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":[],"class_list":["post-143755","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-this-weeks-reading"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.4 (Yoast SEO v25.4) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Staff Picks: Puddings, Pastels, and Plano by The Paris Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"This week, the staff of \u2018The Paris Review\u2019 reads Vesna Main, longs for the theater, and considers the Austen adaptation.\" 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