{"id":152578,"date":"2021-05-14T17:36:52","date_gmt":"2021-05-14T21:36:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=152578"},"modified":"2021-05-14T17:51:19","modified_gmt":"2021-05-14T21:51:19","slug":"staff-picks-jungles-journeys-and-jealousy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2021\/05\/14\/staff-picks-jungles-journeys-and-jealousy\/","title":{"rendered":"Staff Picks: Jungles, Journeys, and Jealousy"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_132306\" style=\"width: 1034px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/cusk-rachel_credit-siemon-scammell-katz-min-1024x683.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-132306\" class=\"size-large wp-image-132306\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/cusk-rachel_credit-siemon-scammell-katz-min-1024x683-1024x683.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/cusk-rachel_credit-siemon-scammell-katz-min-1024x683.jpg 1024w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/cusk-rachel_credit-siemon-scammell-katz-min-1024x683-300x200.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/cusk-rachel_credit-siemon-scammell-katz-min-1024x683-768x512.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-132306\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Rachel Cusk. Photo: Siemon Scamell-Katz.<\/p><\/div>\n<p>There is a Joni Mitchell live album called <em>Miles of Aisles<\/em>, recorded while she was on tour in 1974. Caught on the recording is her response\u2014in a slightly Dylan-esque posture\u2014to the crowd\u2019s wild chanting for a particular number. She complains that other artists don\u2019t have to deal with this kind of crap: \u201cNobody ever said to Van Gogh, \u2018Paint a <em>Starry Night<\/em> again, man!\u2019\u2009\u201d I think she\u2019s wrong, though. The anticipation for Rachel Cusk\u2019s new novel, <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/1531\/9780374279226\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>Second Place,<\/em><\/a> has been as close to feverish as we get in certain circles, and it is in part because Cusk answers the call to \u201cpaint a <em>Starry Night<\/em>\u00a0again\u201d so well. Much has been said in the past weeks about what we particularly want from Cusk and why. In fact, if you are a person who reads <em>The <\/em><em>Paris Review<\/em>\u2019s staff picks, you have likely read two or three <a href=\"https:\/\/blgtylr.substack.com\/p\/brutalism-of-the-mind\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">meditations on<\/a> <a href=\"https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2021\/04\/26\/books\/review-rachel-cusk-second-place.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">the subject<\/a>. Whatever it is we want from her, <em>Second Place<\/em> delivers in spades. And with the dynamism of a truly great writer, the novel seems written just for the spring of 2021 but was actually inspired by the memoir of Mabel Dodge Luhan, a patron who played host to D.\u2009H. Lawrence in Taos, New Mexico, in 1932. In <em>Second Place<\/em>, it is late spring on the English coast. Our narrator and her second husband invite a world-famous artist\u2014now out of fashion\u2014to use the second place on their property. He ends up arriving with a youngish woman of no defined role or position. If the opposition of these two relationships didn\u2019t create enough refraction, our narrator\u2019s daughter from a previous marriage and the daughter\u2019s boyfriend come to stay as well. Cusk gives us three \u201cstages of women,\u201d leaving hints of female truths I\u2019ll carry for the rest of my life, and no small amount of lush, threatening scenery. <em>The Starry Night<\/em>, I learned recently, was not universally loved at first. Only with <a href=\"https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2021\/04\/14\/magazine\/jo-van-gogh-bonger.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">the dedication of Van Gogh\u2019s sister-in-law Jo van Gogh-Bonger<\/a>, who peddled his troubled genius to the world, did we end up with refrigerator magnets and mouse pads. Although it\u2019s in every job description, creativity is hard to see and harder to live with. We are taught to want it and fear it in equal measure. Among many other things, Cusk shows us this in <em>Second Place<\/em>, and I hope she never does it quite the same way again.\u00a0<strong>\u2014Julia Berick\u00a0<\/strong><!--more--><\/p>\n<p>Molly Bolt is one of my favorite characters in all of literature. A bit of a wild card, whip smart, unbelievably driven, and an all-around badass, she\u2019s the star of <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/1531\/9781101965122\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>Rubyfruit Jungle<\/em><\/a>, Rita Mae Brown\u2019s queer coming-of-age novel. Originally published in 1973, <em>Rubyfruit Jungle<\/em> follows Molly from her poverty-stricken childhood in Pennsylvania and Florida to her young adulthood in New York City, where she sleeps with a parade of women and works her way through NYU with the goal of becoming a film director. The book is, in a lot of ways, a product of its time; in other ways, it\u2019s very much ahead of the curve. All anyone expects of Molly is marriage, despite the fact that she has absolutely no interest in men. She adamantly refuses to get hitched and become a \u201cbreeder\u201d; she\u2019d much rather \u201cbe arrested for throwing an orgy at ninety-nine.\u201d Molly\u2019s hilarious\u2014I mean laugh-out-loud funny. And while the book gives her the space to feel down and angry at the homophobia she faces and the poverty she experiences, she always soldiers on. She\u2019s driven by her ambition to make her movies, even if she has to fight until she\u2019s fifty. \u201cBut if it takes that long then watch out world,\u201d she says, \u201cbecause I\u2019m going to be the hottest fifty-year-old this side of the Mississippi.\u201d <strong>\u2014Mira Braneck<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<div id=\"attachment_152589\" style=\"width: 1010px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/mphanza_cheswayo.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-152589\" class=\"size-full wp-image-152589\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/mphanza_cheswayo.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1000\" height=\"750\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/mphanza_cheswayo.jpg 1000w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/mphanza_cheswayo-300x225.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/mphanza_cheswayo-768x576.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-152589\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Cheswayo Mphanza. Photo: Azeez Alayah. Courtesy of University of Nebraska Press.<\/p><\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I often find myself a little jealous of photographers and filmmakers, and the immediacy of the images that constitute their art. Part of the appeal of writing can be how <em>not<\/em> immediate it is, how it requires narrative explanation in order to set a scene or argue an idea, but some days I wish I were wielding a camera, not a pen. A line from Cheswayo Mphanza\u2019s poem \u201cNotes toward a Biography of Henry Tayali\u201d\u2014which appears in his debut collection, <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/1531\/9781496225764\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>The Rinehart Frames<\/em><\/a>\u2014perfectly illustrates the conundrum: \u201cPhotography is best for its simple truth: thought is brief, whereas the image is absolute.\u201d Somehow, in poems that borrow techniques from Abbas Kiarostami\u2019s film <em>24 Frames<\/em>, Mphanza fuses word and image in such a way that it feels as though I am <em>reading<\/em> a photograph. And when he explores the disparities of language, history, colonialism, and power, in poems like \u201cDjibril Diop Mamb\u00e9ty\u2019s Scene Descriptions\u201d (\u201cSinking back into bed where he learns making love is immigrating to someone. A citizen who feigns to be a refugee under the tender weight of skin and its nudging\u201d), this technique is used to its fullest, resulting in some of the most memorable lines in the book. \u201cMy dreams are becoming more cinematic,\u201d notes the first line of \u201cFrame Ten\u201d\u2014and the same could be said of this collection, too. <strong>\u2014Rhian Sasseen<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Readers of the<em> Daily<\/em>\u00a0might be familiar with Barrett Swanson\u2019s \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2018\/11\/08\/political-fictions-unraveling-america-at-a-west-wing-fan-convention\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Political Fictions: Unraveling America at a West Wing Fan Convention<\/a>\u201d or \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2019\/07\/03\/for-whom-is-the-water-park-fun\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">For Whom Is the Water Park Fun?<\/a>,\u201d both of which are now collected in his debut essay collection, <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/1531\/9781640094185\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>Lost in Summerland<\/em><\/a>. My own introduction to Swanson\u2019s exquisite prose and equally impressive examination of place was the book\u2019s opening essay, \u201cNotes from a Last Man,\u201d which initially had me worried: the piece is set in my native Fort Lauderdale, Florida, an easy target for any visitor keen on mocking the coastal extravagance of a subtropical economy dependent largely upon the merrymaking tactics of tourism. But when the essay juxtaposed the lyrics of \u201cpatron saint of Miami pop\u201d Pitbull with the post\u2013Franco-Prussian War writing of Friedrich Nietzsche and the hedonistic absurdity and \u201colder American ethos\u201d of a cruise line\u2019s television advertisement, all in the context of Swanson\u2019s own general sadness and anxiety, I felt that, and I realized that his writing is not at all interested in mockery, but in camaraderie. The brilliance of these essays is their ability to illuminate the personal through the critical, the political, and the unflinching specifics of place while shining a light into that seemingly distant ideal\u2014the universal. The closing essay, \u201cChurch Not Made with Hands,\u201d builds ideas of faith and communion into an enchantingly hopeful description of marriage, and I can\u2019t help but think of the promise we all make every time we choose to open a book, \u201cvowing to see the world not through the myopia of I, but the panorama of us.\u201d <strong>\u2014Christopher Notarnicola<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>In honor of the latest installment of Valerie Stivers\u2019s Eat Your Words, \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2021\/05\/14\/cooking-with-sigrid-undset\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Cooking with Sigrid Undset<\/a>,\u201d I would like to offer another extraordinary way into the work of the Nobel-winning Norwegian novelist. I wish I could say the family copy of <em>Kristin Lavransdatter<\/em> is a treasured possession and favorite read-aloud book in our home, but in fact the mammoth tome lives on a secret shelf under our coffee table, where our puppy is unable to fulfill her urgent desire to chew on it. No, my family loves Undset because she is the inspiration for one of our favorite animated short films, Torill Kove\u2019s <a href=\"https:\/\/www.nfb.ca\/film\/danish_poet-edu\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>The Danish Poet<\/em><\/a>. Although this adorable and deeply moving cartoon, narrated by the legendary Liv Ullmann, won an Academy Award, it\u2019s got the terrifying word <em>poet<\/em>\u00a0in the title, so I fear many have ignored it. I\u2019d like to remedy that situation right now. <em>The Danish Poet<\/em> follows said poet on a journey to love and literary inspiration, traveling by boat between Denmark and Norway and through the pages of <em>Kristin Lavransdatter<\/em>. The film involves outlandishly long hair, missed connections, a credible examination of where people come from, and the story of two unlikely pairs of lovers. I entreat you to watch it now\u2014I promise you fifteen minutes of screen time you won\u2019t regret. It\u2019s kid friendly but adult sophisticated, and it holds a spot on my short list of Best Things Ever. I hope you feel the same way. <strong>\u2014Craig Morgan Teicher<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<div id=\"attachment_152588\" style=\"width: 1010px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/poet.jpeg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-152588\" class=\"size-full wp-image-152588\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/poet.jpeg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1000\" height=\"667\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/poet.jpeg 1000w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/poet-300x200.jpeg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/poet-768x512.jpeg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-152588\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Still from Torill Kove\u2019s <em>The Danish Poet<\/em>, 2006.<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This week, the staff of \u2018The Paris Review\u2019 reads Rachel Cusk, Rita Mae Brown, and Cheswayo Mphanza.<\/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":[67827],"class_list":["post-152578","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-this-weeks-reading","tag-featured"],"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: Jungles, Journeys, and Jealousy by The Paris Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"This week, the staff of \u2018The Paris Review\u2019 reads Rachel Cusk, Rita Mae Brown, and Cheswayo Mphanza.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, 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