{"id":148961,"date":"2020-11-09T13:49:17","date_gmt":"2020-11-09T18:49:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=148961"},"modified":"2020-11-09T14:20:20","modified_gmt":"2020-11-09T19:20:20","slug":"the-art-of-distance-no-33","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2020\/11\/09\/the-art-of-distance-no-33\/","title":{"rendered":"The Art of Distance No. 33"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><em>In March,<\/em>\u00a0The Paris Review<em>\u00a0launched<\/em><em>\u00a0The Art of Distance, a newsletter highlighting unlocked archive pieces that resonate with the staff of<\/em>\u00a0<em>the magazine<\/em><em>, quarantine-appropriate writing on the<\/em>\u00a0Daily<em>, resources from our peer organizations,<\/em><em>\u00a0and more. Read Emily Nemens\u2019s introductory letter\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/mailchi.mp\/theparisreview.org\/introducing-the-art-of-distance\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">here<\/a>, and find the latest unlocked archive selection below.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>\u201cIn his <a href=\"https:\/\/theparisreview.org\/interviews\/6312\/the-art-of-poetry-no-98-henri-cole\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Art of Poetry interview<\/a>, Henri Cole said: \u2018I think it would be rather narrow\u2014and moralistic\u2014to say that poetry must comfort us and point to what is good. I don\u2019t think that is the function of art, though sometimes it is a happy result.\u2019 <\/em>The Paris Review<em> has never aspired to narrowness, or moralism, in its acquisitions\u2014we publish literature, and embrace the wide-open range of emotions that capital-A Art can evoke. But sometimes, in some weeks, we could use a few \u2018happy results,\u2019 whether by happenstance or otherwise. Below, we\u2019ve assembled the literary equivalent of comfort food, poems and stories that bring us some solace time and again\u2014for their artfulness, for their assured craft, for their steady (or strange) hand and kind touch. May they offer some gladdening to you, too.\u201d \u2014EN<\/em><\/p>\n<div id=\"attachment_148964\" style=\"width: 1010px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/aod33.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-148964\" class=\"size-full wp-image-148964\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/aod33.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1000\" height=\"667\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/aod33.jpg 1000w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/aod33-300x200.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/aod33-768x512.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-148964\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Image courtesy of the British Library, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons.<\/p><\/div>\n<p>This week, I\u2019ve found comfort in cheese puffs and Robert Walser, whose \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/poetry\/3571\/snowdrops-robert-walser\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Snowdrops<\/a>\u201d (translated by Tom Whalen and Trudi Anderegg) seems to predict both the changing seasons and the bright future a winter might bring: \u201cLittle snowdrops, of what do you speak? They speak still of winter, but also already of spring; they speak of the past, but also saucily and merrily of the new.\u201d <strong>\u2014EN\u00a0<\/strong><!--more--><\/p>\n<p>\u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/theparisreview.org\/fiction\/268\/birthmark-miranda-july\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Birthmark<\/a>\u201d was one of the first Miranda July stories I ever read, at which point I immediately decided that the world of her fiction is one I\u2019d like to live in. Yes, her characters are sad and strange, always clumsily grasping for semblances of connection, but we have all that here, too. Something about July\u2019s world feels comfortingly familiar, yet there, pain is something that can be scaled from one to ten and \u201cyou know that winning is many things, but it is never the thing you thought it would be.\u201d In this way, \u201cBirthmark\u201d has a happy ending, but first comes an inexplicable change, a sudden transformation\u2014maybe a loss, but one that opens the door for a real, full life. <strong>\u2014Langa Chinyoka, intern<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>\u201cSweets, nuts, sodden chocolates, nut-cakes, mints.\u201d This brief menu from Derek Walcott\u2019s lush poem \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/poetry\/2752\/the-light-of-the-world-derek-walcott\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">The Light of the World<\/a>\u201d feels as decadent as the careless joy that the narrator feels on a bus ride through Saint Lucia, with \u201cno need for time.\u201d Like sodden chocolates, the suspended moment rendered here is rich and intoxicating. <strong>\u2014Lauren Kane, assistant editor<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Reading Alice Munro\u2019s work gives me the feeling of following someone who knows what she is doing, someone who is always on sure footing even as she executes flawless triple axels of storytelling like \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/fiction\/2765\/circle-of-prayer-alice-munro\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Circle of Prayer<\/a>\u201d and \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/fiction\/1797\/spaceships-have-landed-alice-munro\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Spaceships Have Landed<\/a>.\u201d As when watching an athlete stick the landing, you might take a nice deep breath when you read these stories\u2014maybe without even using an app! <strong>\u2014Jane Breakell, institutional giving officer<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Out of all the things I\u2019ve been longing for throughout these past few months, theater is certainly in the top three. On top of that, I\u2019m a sucker for musicals: the spectacle, the music, the electric sensation that assimilates every performer, techie, and audience member into a collective emotional sea. Luckily\u2014along with all the plays <em>The Paris Review<\/em> has published in the past\u2014I\u2019ve been able to turn to Stephen Sondheim\u2019s <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/interviews\/1283\/the-art-of-the-musical-stephen-sondheim\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Art of the Musical interview<\/a> in order to imagine returning to the theatrical magic that I know would lift my spirits terribly. <strong>\u2014Carlos Zayas-Pons, intern<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>There\u2019s an Adrienne Rich poem, \u201cThe Burning of Paper instead of Children,\u201d from her 1971 collection <em>The Will to Change<\/em>, that I have returned to so many times since I first encountered it as a teenager that its rhythms feel as though they have always been within my body, that I was born reciting lines from it. <em>The Paris Review<\/em> didn\u2019t publish that work, but the Winter\u2013Spring 1962 issue has another Rich poem that I find myself returning to again and again, \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/poetry\/4630\/end-of-an-era-adrienne-rich\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">End of an Era<\/a>.\u201d It\u2019s a relatively early work, but there are lines that ring in my ears every time I read them: \u201cStale as a written-out journalist,\u2009\/\u2009I start to sort my gear.\u2009\/\u2009Nothing is happening \u2026 poetry\u2009\/\u2009extends its unsought amnesty,\u2009\/\u2009autumn saws the great grove down.\u201d <strong>\u2014Rhian Sasseen, engagement editor<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>Sign up\u00a0<a href=\"http:\/\/eepurl.com\/dkY3AH\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">here<\/a>\u00a0to receive a fresh installment of The Art of Distance in your inbox every Monday<\/em><em>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>For this week\u2019s The Art of Distance, the staff of \u2018The Paris Review\u2019 offers the literary equivalent of comfort food from the archive.<\/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":[63638],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-148961","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-art-of-distance"],"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>The Art of Distance No. 33 by The Paris Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"For this week\u2019s The Art of Distance, the staff of \u2018The Paris Review\u2019 offers the literary equivalent of comfort food from the archive.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" 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