{"id":154665,"date":"2021-09-17T15:45:06","date_gmt":"2021-09-17T19:45:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=154665"},"modified":"2022-03-21T11:49:27","modified_gmt":"2022-03-21T15:49:27","slug":"the-reviews-review-these-were-the-angels","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2021\/09\/17\/the-reviews-review-these-were-the-angels\/","title":{"rendered":"These Were the Angels"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

Illustration: Liby Hays. Courtesy of Hays.<\/p><\/div>\n

Liby Hays\u2019s Geniacs!<\/em><\/a>, a graphic novel out this summer from the art book publisher Landfill Editions, takes place at a hackathon\u2014truly inspired material for slapstick comedy, body horror, and philosophical reflection alike. This tech competition\u2019s goal? Invent a new life-form. \u201cPeople always think my ideas are dumb \u2026 but they\u2019re purposefully so! Their failure is coded within them! It\u2019s like when scientists artificially reanimate the cells of a dead pig\u2019s brain. The brain becomes trapped in an infinite loop reliving the terror of its final moments. But within that narrow terror loop\u2026 We might find potential for new forms of thought to arise!\u201d So muses our heroine, a morbidly minded wordsmith undercover as a \u201cpo-ent\u201d (poet-entrepreneur). Her (hot, tattooed) slacker partner would rather copy and paste some old code, though, than entertain her inefficiently emo-poetic concepts. Hays\u2019s detailed black-and-white illustrations are as gymnastic, compositionally, as her characters\u2019 dialogue: her panels cut across the page in dizzying fits of polygons and word bubbles that leave us spiral-eyed, minds buzzing, cartoon birds circling our heads. A canny and cryptic meditation on group projects, life, \u201clife,\u201d art, and the cheat code lifestyle only slightly more surreal, though much more fun, than my worst nights of coding. \u2014Olivia Kan-Sperling\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cIn a city we are forever brushing sleeves with our other possible selves,\u201d writes Lauren Elkin in her latest book, No. 91\/92: A Diary of a Year on the Bus<\/em><\/a>, culled from a series of iPhone notes compiled during her 2014 commute in Paris. \u201cUnderground we go shooting through the tunnels trying to survive and be happy.\u201d Drawing on the works of Georges Perec and the subway poems of Jacques Jouet, Elkin situates her observations within an Oulipian history of randomness and chance, suggesting that a life mediated through a screen is just as susceptible to the what-ifs, daydreams, and abrupt interruptions of a life lived away from one. \u2014Rhian Sasseen<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m talkin\u2019 neat, like freak.\u2009\/\u2009I\u2019m talkin\u2019 neat, like fleek.\u2009\/\u2009I\u2019m talkin\u2019 neat, like a geek.\u201d<\/a>\u00a0\u2014Brian Ransom<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Jenna Gribbon, Interior Lightscape<\/em>, 2021, oil on linen, 80 x 64″. Courtesy of the artist and Fredericks & Freiser, NY. Photo: Adam Reich.<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

I encountered Jenna Gribbon\u2019s Watching Me Swim<\/em> (2018) on a corner of the internet called gay Tumblr, which is practically a tautology. It was a coup de coeur<\/em> for me, seeing her work for the first time. Running through October 30 at Fredericks & Freiser, her solo show \u201cUscapes<\/a>\u201d comprises newer works. It\u2019s no surprise that Gribbon\u2019s girlfriend Mackenzie Scott (not that one<\/a>), who performs music under the name Torres, appears as muse in every piece. This has become a hallmark of Gribbon\u2019s work, as have lovely, messy domestic scenes\u2014Scott clipping her toenails on the lip of the bathtub, for one\u2014and cleverly composed, reflexive nudes. It\u2019s easy to fixate on the details\u2014the omnipresent neon-pink areolae, the intricately rendered folds of fabric, the glint of Scott\u2019s fingernails as she props her hands in front of her vulva in one portrait, the fleshiness of a belly in another. These minutiae clash nicely with the works\u2019 louder elements. Fat swipes of paint bear the memory of a brush\u2019s grooves, and about half a dozen pieces on view are massive, like the nearly seven-foot-tall Interrogation Lightscape<\/em> (2021), in which Scott appears as a kind of giantess, haloed by white light, sitting naked between a pair of thighs, holding eye contact. As we orbited the gallery, my buddy spun around and let out a laugh. \u201cShe\u2019s always teasing us, you know. She\u2019s making fun of the viewer,\u201d they said, gesturing toward a painting of Scott pissing into the dirt. Toying with the voyeur\u2014and with the tropes of figurative painting\u2014is surely an energizing force here. Gibbon\u2019s paintings emerge, in her own words, \u201cfrom inside the scopophilic feedback loop.\u201d \u2014Jay Graham<\/strong><\/p>\n

Getting me through this week is The Magic of Now<\/em><\/a>, a new live album by the pianist and bandleader Orrin Evans, which was recorded this past December at the Smoke Jazz & Supper Club, in New York City. The band photo in the CD shows the rhythm players\u2014Evans, the bassist Vicente Archer, and the drummer Bill Stewart\u2014all masked, their hands flying over their instruments; only the rising star sax player Immanuel Wilkins isn\u2019t masked, for obvious reasons, but he\u2019s surrounded by see-through barriers. It\u2019s a moving document of the perseverance of art through the pandemic, and the music makes a powerful case for art\u2019s necessity. This is just really great straight-ahead jazz, nothing tricky, just lots of power and passion and the chance to hear Wilkins, who seems to be everywhere in jazz right now, play the hell out of his horn as though all our lives depended on it. \u2014Craig Morgan Teicher<\/strong><\/p>\n

One undeniable certainty about studying religion in any academic way is that, without even trying, you find yourself having opinions on famous heretics\u2014more precisely, you have favorites. My personal favorite heretic is Menocchio, the subject of Carlo Ginzburg\u2019s 1976 study of sixteenth-century popular culture The Cheese and the Worms<\/em><\/a>. Ginzburg\u2019s project breaks the mold of social history by building a narrative from the bottom up, using source materials as far removed from structures of power and influence as he could dredge up, trying even to get at the texture of oral culture lost to time. The protagonist that emerges is an incredibly learned, charismatic, and irreverent miller who, in the face of the Roman Inquisition, imagined a view of creation that rings through centuries by way of Ginzburg: \u201cAll was chaos, that is earth, air, water, and fire were mixed together; and of that bulk a mass formed\u2014just as cheese is made out of milk\u2014and worms appeared in it, and these were the angels.\u201d \u2014Lauren Kane<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Carlo Ginzburg. Photo courtesy of Johns Hopkins University Press.<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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