{"id":81439,"date":"2015-01-09T19:39:11","date_gmt":"2015-01-10T00:39:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=81439"},"modified":"2015-01-16T11:36:43","modified_gmt":"2015-01-16T16:36:43","slug":"staff-picks-birthdays-bluegrass-baked-alaska","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/01\/09\/staff-picks-birthdays-bluegrass-baked-alaska\/","title":{"rendered":"Staff Picks: Birthdays, Bluegrass, Baked Alaska"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"samarra\"<\/a>

From the first-edition cover of Appointment in Samarra<\/i>.<\/p><\/div>\n

Cold, biting January made me reach for Simon Van Booy\u2019s\u00a0The Illusion of Separateness<\/a><\/em>. This deceptively slim novel transcends time and geography to explore the lives of six unwittingly connected strangers, each rendered with stunning incisiveness and warmth. (If Raymond Chandler had swapped gin for chamomile tea he might have written some of Van Booy\u2019s sentences.) However, the prose is so rich\u2014so resonant\u2014it\u2019s easy to miss the real treat on offer: an exceptionally compassionate lens through which to view the world.\u00a0Search no more. This is\u00a0that<\/em>\u00a0book, the one you carry through the midwinter doldrums toward spring. \u2014Emilia Murphy\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Over Christmas I read Is He Popenjoy?<\/a><\/em>, Anthony Trollope\u2019s tale of a rich girl who marries an impoverished Lord and finds herself in the middle of a battle over his inheritance. This is late, minor Trollope (he wrote forty-seven novels altogether), but Trollope is one of those writers in whom minorness and greatness are hard to tell apart. He makes everything look so easy. His experiments are hidden in plain view. So is his special brand of moral skepticism. For Trollope, every character is the hero of his own story, or the heroine; every character thinks he or she has to deal with villains (sociopaths, we\u2019d say). From time to time every character is right. Or may be. But the most powerful force in Trollope\u2019s fiction is not good or evil, but group dynamics, the ever-shifting relations between family members and friends. Among other things, Is He Popenjoy?<\/em> is the best novel I have ever read about in-laws and how to get along with them. For the moment,\u00a0I’m so deep\u00a0under its spell\u00a0I wouldn\u2019t trade it for Anna Karenina<\/em>. \u2014Lorin Stein<\/strong><\/p>\n

Every year around the holidays, I try to fill in one of the gaps in my knowledge of the canon. When you\u2019re revisiting classics, I\u2019ve found, it\u2019s always good to seek out the ones that people hated when they were first published\u2014so I took up John O\u2019Hara\u2019s Appointment in Samarra<\/a><\/em>, which Sinclair Lewis called \u201cnothing but infantilism\u2014the erotic visions of a hobbledehoy behind the barn.\u201d And what visions they are! Sex and class are O\u2019Hara\u2019s great subjects, and in Appointment<\/em>\u2014wherein a rich, high-society guy ruins himself for no good reason, really, except that the straitjacket of Depression-era life demands it\u2014he treats them with a candor that most novelists still can\u2019t muster eighty years later. He\u2019s known, rightly, for his dialogue, but there\u2019s a kind of O\u2019Hara sentence, precise but faintly ostentatious, that sounds utterly American to me. \u201cThe festive board now groaned under the Baked Alaska,\u201d for instance. Or: \u201cFrank Gorman, Georgetown, and Dwight Ross, Yale, had fought, cried, and kissed after an argument about what the team Gorman had not made would have done to the team Ross was substitute halfback on.\u201d \u2014Dan Piepenbring
<\/strong><\/p>\n

I was given Birthday Stories<\/em><\/a>, an anthology of short stories with a birthday in each, on my birthday last year\u2014the perfect gift, even if I never actually read them on my birthday. It includes selections from Denis Johnson, David Foster Wallace, and Raymond Carver. The birthdays in this collection are not joyous occasions. The book is filled with disappointment, family resentment, pubescent embarrassment, the loneliness of old age, murder. \u201cHowever many birthdays I may have counted off,\u201d Haruki Murakami, who edited the collection, reassures us in his introduction, \u201chowever many important events I may have witnessed or experienced first hand, I feel I have always remained the same me, I could never have been anything else.\u201d Murakami returns to these words in the final pages of \u201cBirthday Girl,\u201d the story that closes the anthology, in which he grants us one tradition free from disappointment: the birthday wish. \u2014Cassie Davies<\/strong><\/p>\n

I discovered the music of Mari Nakamura during a late-night YouTube spiral that began with Lucinda Williams, transitioned to Gram Parsons, and took a surprising turn when I found Nakamura\u2019s cover of Parson\u2019s \u201cReturn of the Grievous Angel<\/a>,\u201d sung with Shinsuke Sasakura. Though\u00a0Nakamura performs almost exclusively in Japan, her commitment to American roots music and country blues is as evident in her song choices\u2014from faithful covers of Mississippi John Hurt to blues-infused versions of country standards\u2014as in her vocal flexibility. Nakamura\u2019s \u201cFreight Train\u201d is a studied homage to Elizabeth Cotton\u2019s gravely wail, but other interpretations reveal Nakamura\u2019s vocal flexibility; she\u2019s as much indebted to Mimi Fari\u00f1a\u2019s melodic harmonies as she is to Reverend Gary Davis\u2019s gruff, stripped-down vocals. Nakamura\u2019s been on the Japanese bluegrass scene for years, having released both solo albums and collaborations with Japan-based bluegrass group Lonesome Strings. For those uninitiated to American traditional music, Nakamura\u2019s song choices\u2014many of which can be found in Harry Smith\u2019s iconic folk anthology\u2014provide a surprising and comprehensive education.\u00a0\u2014Catherine Carberry<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Cold, biting January made me reach for Simon Van Booy\u2019s\u00a0The Illusion of Separateness. This deceptively slim novel transcends time and geography to explore the lives of six unwittingly connected strangers, each rendered with stunning incisiveness and warmth. (If Raymond Chandler had swapped gin for chamomile tea he might have written some of Van Booy\u2019s sentences.) 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