{"id":155458,"date":"2021-10-21T17:42:35","date_gmt":"2021-10-21T21:42:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=155458"},"modified":"2022-03-21T11:48:35","modified_gmt":"2022-03-21T15:48:35","slug":"the-reviews-review-eternal-present","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2021\/10\/21\/the-reviews-review-eternal-present\/","title":{"rendered":"Eternal Present"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_155463\" style=\"width: 1010px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.54.56-pm.png\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-155463\" class=\"wp-image-155463\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.54.56-pm-1024x766.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"1000\" height=\"748\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.54.56-pm-1024x766.png 1024w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.54.56-pm-300x224.png 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.54.56-pm-768x574.png 768w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.54.56-pm.png 1439w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-155463\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Still from Lil Peep\u2019s \u201cGym Class\u201d music video.<\/p><\/div>\n<p>Curtis Eggleston\u2019s <a href=\"https:\/\/expatpress.com\/product\/hollow-nacelle-curtis-eggleston\/\"><i>Hollow Nacelle<\/i><\/a>, out last month from <a href=\"https:\/\/expatpress.com\/\">Expat Press<\/a>, is, like reality, both weird and not at all so. His characters\u2014bandmates\u2014wanna blow up&#8230; Or at least have a girlfriend, or at <i>least<\/i> make art. This is a southern California dreamworld, only so, so gray. In prose that is wonderfully straight even when it muses and metaphorizes, Eggleston conjures up the terrifying banality of fantasy, the dumbness of miracles, and lays them flat on the page. Major miracles, as per usual: love, art, friendship. Plus\u2014and without the corniness that sometimes comes with contemporaneity\u2014there\u2019s the (evil? stupid? neutral?) kinds of spells that, for better or for worse, enchant our late-modern world: an Uber-type driver who appears and disappears at will, the mystery of Instagram virality, a rock of black \u201cgoth\u201d molly that turns \u201cpurple, lustrous\u201d under the iPhone flashlight. <!--more--><\/p>\n<p>In <i>Hollow Nacelle<\/i>, magic is in minor stuff: the hypnotic choreography of a fly buzzing around a room, or when \u201camorphous furniture leans out of itself, gets nervous, returns to shape.\u201d A car pulls up; your crush is inside. It\u2019s when, as one chapter title goes, \u201cbb thinks of lov and then she texts him.\u201d My favorite line of dialogue is \u201cBro, I watch porn incognito. It\u2019s like, tradition.\u201d I guess I like it because it\u2019s funny, but not even very much so; not super witty or anything, but just a thing to say while fiddling with the radio volume.<\/p>\n<p>In 2016, Lil Peep, right on the brink of blowing up for real, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=heJNHYCSsIc\">says<\/a>, between cuts to dimly glowing desert flowers and the sad wings of moths, while wandering around a gray roof overlooking the cloud-covered Hollywood hills: \u201cIf you wanna live a dream, I ain\u2019t coming bitch I told you.\u201d He did, though. Until he didn\u2019t. And, through Eggleston\u2019s characters, so do we\u2014living and dying in the downtime between reveries, fits of boredom and creativity, doctor\u2019s offices and wedding parties, sleeping and waking up. Until the book is over, and it all begins elsewhere. <b>\u2014Olivia Kan-Sperling<\/b><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">In the general dooziness of the world right now, I\u2019ve found comfort in midcentury avant-garde composer Morton Feldman. Talking to <\/span><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2021\/09\/29\/allowing-things-to-happen-an-interview-with-tyshawn-sorey\/\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Tyshawn Sorey<\/span><\/a><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> a few weeks ago about his recent album pointed me to one of its inspirations, Feldman\u2019s late work \u201cFor John Cage,\u201d an hour-long aural meditation on the passage of time. The piece unrolls slowly, like most of Feldman\u2019s work, sometimes passing just a couple of notes between violin and cello for long stretches, sometimes making way for snippets of aching melody. It\u2019s surprisingly not at all tedious, and is in fact quietly seductive. This music brings my heart rate down. I\u2019ve been enjoying the recording by <\/span><a href=\"https:\/\/www.squidco.com\/miva\/merchant.mvc?Screen=PROD&amp;Product_Code=23239&amp;Store_Code=S&amp;search=for+john+cage&amp;offset=&amp;filter_cat=0&amp;PowerSearch_Begin_Only=0&amp;sort=&amp;range_low=&amp;range_high=&amp;srch_title=1&amp;srch_personnel=1\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Josje Ter Haar and John Snijders<\/span><\/a><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> on the hat[now]ART label. <\/span><b>\u2014Craig Morgan Teicher<\/b><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">There\u2019s nothing like losing a loved one to inspire a critical look at the idea of strictly linear time, and from there, a flirtation with the idea of parallel universes. Such speculative exercises are usually the domain of sci-fi, but Jai Chakrabarti\u2019s <\/span><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/books\/a-play-for-the-end-of-the-world\/9780525658924\"><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">A Play for the End of the World<\/span><\/i><\/a><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> manages to elicit a similar effect while remaining in the realm of literary realism. The novel follows Jaryk, a man who lost most of his loved ones in the Holocaust, after the death of his last surviving friend, Misha. Jaryk travels to India to retrieve Misha\u2019s ashes, and there he takes up Misha\u2019s final project: working with refugee families to stage a play by Rabindranath Tagore. Time gently distorts. It is June 1972 in India, but it is also still and forever July 1942, when Misha and Jaryk were performing in the same Tagore play as soon-to-be refugee children in Warsaw. For a moment, the love between friends, the struggle to survive a relentless state, and the art that aids that struggle bring many lives into an eternal present. <\/span><b>\u2014Jane Breakell<\/b><\/p>\n<div id=\"attachment_155460\" style=\"width: 1010px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.50.43-pm.png\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-155460\" class=\"wp-image-155460\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.50.43-pm-1024x768.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"1000\" height=\"750\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.50.43-pm-1024x768.png 1024w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.50.43-pm-300x225.png 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.50.43-pm-768x576.png 768w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/screen-shot-2021-10-21-at-5.50.43-pm.png 1438w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-155460\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Still from Lil Peep\u2019s \u201cGym Class\u201d music video.<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>We sink into time-looping books from Curtis Eggleston and Jai Chakrabarti, and listen to downtime tracks. <\/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":[68386],"tags":[28744,68300,67827,8117],"class_list":["post-155458","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-reviews-review","tag-beach-time","tag-expat-press","tag-featured","tag-john-cage"],"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>Eternal Present by The Paris Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"October 21, 2021 \u2013 We sink into time-looping books from Curtis Eggleston and Jai Chakrabarti, and listen to downtime tracks.\" \/>\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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