{"id":56027,"date":"2013-07-12T13:18:23","date_gmt":"2013-07-12T17:18:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=56027"},"modified":"2013-07-12T13:29:59","modified_gmt":"2013-07-12T17:29:59","slug":"what-were-loving-neuroscience-drugs-and-poetry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2013\/07\/12\/what-were-loving-neuroscience-drugs-and-poetry\/","title":{"rendered":"What We\u2019re Loving: Neuroscience, Drugs, and Poetry"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"poetrylarge\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Our contributor Ben Lerner<\/a> turned me on to an astonishing new book, White Out: The Secret Life of Heroin<\/em><\/a>, by Michael W. Clune. A graduate student in the English department at Johns Hopkins, Clune led a double life as a junkie that in the late nineties took him from the slums of Baltimore to a Chicago jail, and, eventually, into recovery. But White Out<\/em> is more than a recovery memoir. It is a phenomenology of heroin addiction\u2014the single best thing I have read about the drug\u2014and a deep, often beautiful meditation on the nature of memory, pleasure, and time. \u201cIn the timeless space of dope I discovered that time is the great enemy of thought\u2009\u2026\u2009The teacup I hold in my hand is a bullet shot out of a gun. It\u2019s no wonder that it\u2019s so impossibly hard to think in these conditions. It\u2019s no wonder that maggots grow in fresh meat, that an electric bill is overdue as soon as you open it, that the first time you try something you\u2019re already addicted.\u201d\u00a0\u2014Lorin Stein<\/strong><\/p>\n

You may remember Samuel Delany from, among other things, our Spring 2011 issue<\/a>. In that interview, he briefly mentions Dennis, his partner of more than twenty years. Among the photographs we considered to accompany the conversation were shots of Chip and Dennis on the couch in their Harlem apartment, and though they didn\u2019t make the final cut, the images contained an intimacy that was, frankly, very touching. Little did I know that their relationship is the subject of its own book. First published twenty-five years ago and reissued this month by Fantagraphics, Bread and Wine<\/i><\/a>\u00a0is a graphic novella that gives their origin story, beginning when Dennis had been living on the streets in New York for six years. Loosely structured around H\u00f6lderlin\u2019s elegy of the same name, the book is told from Delany\u2019s point of view and is by turns realist and direct and revelatory and romantic. In the same way, Mia Wolff\u2019s superb black-and-white art is alternately detailed and spare, drawing the most out of this honest and heartfelt tale. \u2014Nicole Rudick<\/strong><\/p>\n

David Searcy\u2019s essay \u201cThe Hudson River School,\u201d in the latest issue of Granta<\/i><\/a>, is about a lot of things: western Texas, Google Maps, coyotes, the Jared Coffin House, and flossing. And just like his previous essays in the Review<\/i> (here<\/a> and here<\/a>) and his fiction<\/a>, Searcy leaves it up to the reader to put together the pieces. I\u2019ve always loved that in books. My favorite section is his take on the theater of Google Maps, when you click from one point to another, sweeping \u201caway to the rear like smoke in a wind before things re-materialize around the next coordinate\u201d and the smudges in the distance could be anything\u2014a sheep, a crying child, or, simply, emptiness. \u2014Justin Alvarez<\/strong><\/p>\n

I came across Oliver Sacks\u2019s An Anthropologist on Mars<\/i><\/a> on the bookshelf of the house where I\u2019m staying. Sacks writes on the peculiarities of the human brain with both awe and humility; he trusted his patients\u2019 accounts of rare achromatopsia, of reprieve from total blindness, and of anterograde amnesia when no other doctors would. The fact that it was published twenty years ago and still offers significant theories on neurology speaks to Sacks\u2019s importance in the medical and literary worlds. \u2014Ellen Duffer<\/strong><\/p>\n

The small coastal commune of Cassis, located in the Provence-Alpes-C\u00f4te d\u2019Azur<\/a>\u00a0region of Southern France, is a hub of tourism, boasting a coastline of stunning inlets (calanques<\/em>) and an abundance of venues for consumption of moules-frites. While visiting last week, I was surprised to come upon a poetry shop, selling nothing but customized and framed poems and boasting \u201cplus de 4000 po\u00e8mes \u00e0 votre service pour ceux que vous aimez.\u201d A refreshing change from overpriced bottled water! \u2014Kate Rouhandeh<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Our contributor Ben Lerner turned me on to an astonishing new book, White Out: The Secret Life of Heroin, by Michael W. Clune. A graduate student in the English department at Johns Hopkins, Clune led a double life as a junkie that in the late nineties took him from the slums of Baltimore to a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[438],"tags":[3263,10207,2388,11385,11386,11384,1566,2562],"class_list":["post-56027","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-this-weeks-reading","tag-ben-lerner","tag-david-searcy","tag-granta","tag-holderlin","tag-mia-wolff","tag-michael-w-clune","tag-oliver-sacks","tag-samuel-delany"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nWhat We\u2019re Loving: Neuroscience, Drugs, and Poetry by The Paris Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"July 12, 2013 \u2013 Our contributor Ben Lerner turned me on to an astonishing new book, White Out: The Secret Life of Heroin, by Michael W. Clune. 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