{"id":158024,"date":"2022-03-25T13:45:18","date_gmt":"2022-03-25T17:45:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=158024"},"modified":"2022-03-28T11:53:14","modified_gmt":"2022-03-28T15:53:14","slug":"on-john-prine-ferrantes-feminisms-and-paterson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2022\/03\/25\/on-john-prine-ferrantes-feminisms-and-paterson\/","title":{"rendered":"On John Prine, Ferrante’s Feminisms, and Paterson<\/em>"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

Historical diorama of Paterson, New Jersey<\/a>, in the Paterson Museum, licensed under CC0 1.0<\/a>.<\/p><\/div>\n

Jim Jarmusch\u2019s film\u00a0<\/span>Paterson<\/span><\/i> is set in Paterson, New Jersey, the city that is also the focal point for William Carlos Williams\u2019s modernist epic\u00a0<\/span>Paterson<\/span><\/i>, a telescoping study of the individual, place, and the American public. Paterson is home to\u2014and the name of\u2014Jarmusch\u2019s hero,\u00a0a bus driver and a very private poet, played brilliantly by Adam Driver. He lives with his ditzy but extremely loving wife, Laura, who is obsessed with black-and-white patterns and becoming both a country-and-western singer and Paterson\u2019s \u201cqueen of cupcakes.\u201d Like much of William Carlos Williams\u2019s poetry, the film is a celebration of ordinary life. Every day in Paterson\u2019s life is the same. He wakes at the same time each morning, kisses his wife, eats a bowl of Cheerios, goes to work, listens to his colleague moaning about his life, sits in the same picturesque place to have lunch and write his poems, comes home to have supper with his wife, goes to the bar. And he\u2019s not interested in being published. His pleasure is in the writing, and in seeing poetry in the everyday. As Carlos Williams writes: \u201cno ideas but in things\u2014 \/ nothing but the blank faces of the houses \/ and cylindrical trees \u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

One of my favorite scenes in the film is Paterson\u2019s encounter with a little girl who is writing a poem while waiting outside the bus station for her mother and sister. When she reads him some of her work, his response is respectful, tender, and genuine. The whole film is suffused with this gentle respect. The only fly in the ointment is Marvin, Laura\u2019s bulldog, who hates Paterson (perhaps because Paterson leaves him outside the bar when they go on their evening walks?). After Marvin wreaks revenge on his poems, a bereft Paterson visits his usual writing spot. There he meets a Japanese poet and fellow Williams fan, who makes him a gift of a new notebook. \u201cSometimes empty page presents most possibilities,\u201d he says, before leaving with an enigmatic \u201cAha.\u201d And Paterson begins to write again. In the midst of the ongoing evils of our time, it is a balm to be immersed in the entirely unsaccharine <\/span>Paterson<\/span><\/i>. It is a privilege to appreciate how sweet it can be when everything\u2014the good and the ordinary\u2014stays the same.<\/span>
\n<\/b><\/p>\n

\u2014Margaret Jull Costa, cotranslator of “Three Sonnets<\/a>”\u00a0<\/b>by \u00c1lvaro de Campos<\/b><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Close readers of Elena Ferrante may already know that her books draw strongly on seventies Italian feminist theory, as formulated by groups such as the Milan Women\u2019s Bookshop Collective: in the third Neapolitan novel, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay<\/i>, the narrator, Len\u00f9, even gives a long, impassioned summary of Carla Lonzi\u2019s essay \u201cLet\u2019s Spit on Hegel.\u201d<\/span> But the second lecture in Ferrante\u2019s new\u00a0In the Margins: On the Pleasures of Reading and Writing<\/i><\/a>, translated by Ann Goldstein, describes in detail the influence of\u00a0the Bookshop Collective\u2019s theories on female friendship (elucidated in their book Sexual Difference: A Theory of Social-Symbolic Practice)\u00a0<\/i>on her fiction. In fact, all of the lectures in In the Margins<\/i>\u2014originally commissioned by the University of Bologna and delivered publicly in 2021 by an actress and a Dante scholar, in an effort to preserve Ferrante\u2019s anonymity\u2014provide new insight into the novelist\u2019s engagement with writers like Virginia Woolf, Gertrude Stein, Ingeborg Bachmann, Mar\u00eda Guerra, and Emily Dickinson. It\u2019s a fascinating peek into Ferrante\u2019s process, one that opens up intellectual rabbit holes and as many new questions as it answers.<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/em>Rhian Sasseen, engagement editor<\/strong><\/p>\n

The songwriter John Prine died of COVID-19<\/small> in April 2020, at the age of seventy-three. He had contracted the virus while touring for\u00a0<\/span>The Tree of Forgiveness<\/span><\/i><\/a>, his first album of new music since 2005, and one of his best. Prine\u2019s deceptively simple melodies and lyrics were a conduit for a sort of plainspoken mysticism, and I\u2019d long been in the habit of seeing him perform once or twice a year. I still miss him.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

His death urged fans to reappraise an <\/span>album<\/span><\/a> released that same March by another great songwriter, the visionary soul artist Swamp Dogg. Swamp Dogg\u2014born Jerry Williams Jr., in 1942\u2014had invited Prine to sing on two of the album\u2019s tracks. They would be Prine\u2019s final studio recordings.<\/span><\/p>\n

The two singers had been friendly since at least 1972, when Williams had a minor hit with his arresting <\/span>version<\/span><\/a> of Prine\u2019s \u201cSam Stone.\u201d Williams\u2019s aesthetic leans more experimental than Prine\u2019s: in his heyday, he sang tender postapocalyptic sci-fi <\/span>ballads<\/span><\/a> on records with titles like <\/span>Gag a Maggot<\/span><\/i>. Still, the affinity between Williams and Prine is audible in their duets, recorded when both men were in their seventies, and when neither knew what the next year would bring.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>Please Let Me Go Round Again<\/span><\/a>\u201d is a classic, comically depressive Swamp Dogg character study: \u201cOh life, can\u2019t you afford me another chance? \/ If you let me go \u2019round again \/ I\u2019ll build a better mousetrap from a far more better plan.\u201d Williams and Prine are charming, trading lines. It\u2019s a lovely tune. At the end, over a vamp, the two begin to pal around. They start in character:<\/span><\/p>\n

Williams: I\u2019m scared to bet on myself.<\/span>
\nPrine: I\u2019ll bet on you.<\/span>
\nWilliams: Well, I\u2019ll bet on <\/span>you<\/span><\/i>. But I done screwed up so much.<\/span>
\nPrine: Well, maybe we\u2019ll get a two-for-one. Maybe they\u2019ll give us both another chance.<\/span>
\nWilliams: At half price.<\/span>
\nPrine: We can get a two-headed sweater.<\/span>
\nWilliams: Yeah! Right!<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The exchange doesn\u2019t sound scripted. The laughter and warmth are real. It was \u201cwhatever older people call having a ball,\u201d Williams would later say<\/a> of the sessions. As the exchange continues, the two drop out of character, speaking sweetly to one another, as if forgetting the microphones. \u201cHey, man\u2014I want to thank you for that \u2018Sam Stone,\u2019 man,\u201d says Williams. Prine replies, \u201cYou bet. You got it around to a lot of people, Swamp.\u201d It\u2019s beautiful. Something between them there on record has the power to make the listener feel cared for. Then it\u2019s over. \u201cWe were planning on going to his house in Ireland,\u201d Williams said of Prine, in an interview<\/a> that followed Prine\u2019s death, \u201cand we were going to stay there about a week or so and just write some new shit, you know? His intertwined with mine, you know, the ideas. And it was going to be good, man.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014Zach Williams, author of “Trial Run<\/a><\/b>\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This week\u2019s recommendations from our editors and contributors.<\/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":[13206,19959,35051,883,68393,3915],"class_list":["post-158024","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-reviews-review","tag-elena-ferrante","tag-jim-jarmusch","tag-john-prine","tag-staff-picks","tag-swamp-dogg","tag-william-carlos-williams"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nOn John Prine, Ferrante's Feminisms, and Paterson by The Paris Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"March 25, 2022 \u2013 This week\u2019s recommendations from our editors and contributors.\" \/>\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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