{"id":84190,"date":"2015-03-27T18:54:38","date_gmt":"2015-03-27T22:54:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=84190"},"modified":"2016-04-03T18:18:23","modified_gmt":"2016-04-03T22:18:23","slug":"staff-picks-rage-reggae-reading-rooms","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/03\/27\/staff-picks-rage-reggae-reading-rooms\/","title":{"rendered":"Staff Picks: Rage, Reggae, Reading Rooms"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_84196\" style=\"width: 610px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/wild_tales_0.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-84196\" class=\"wp-image-84196\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/wild_tales_0.jpg\" alt=\"wild_tales_0\" width=\"600\" height=\"338\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/wild_tales_0.jpg 1296w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/wild_tales_0-300x169.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/wild_tales_0-768x433.jpg 768w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/wild_tales_0-1024x577.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-84196\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">A still from <i>Wild Tales<\/i>.<\/p><\/div>\n<p>Before he coined the term <em>Dark Ages<\/em>, before he became the father of humanism, and before he wrote the world\u2019s first travel guide\u2014to a place he\u2019d never actually visited, at that\u2014Petrarch climbed a mountain. In \u201c<a href=\"http:\/\/www.indiebound.org\/book\/9781599100005\" target=\"_blank\">Epistolae familiares<\/a>,\u201d a letter to Dionisio da Borgo San Sepolcro, Petrarch described the journey he took with his brother on April 26, 1336, now commonly known as \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Ascent_of_Mont_Ventoux\" target=\"_blank\">The Ascent of Mont Ventoux<\/a>.\u201d The letter is often quoted in mountaineering literature that altogether misses the point; Petrarch\u2019s ascent is a vehicle for the ascent of the mind, and it\u2019s compelling to watch him weigh out his thoughts as he climbs. \u201cI am still preoccupied with a lot that is troublesome,\u201d he writes. \u201cWhat I used to love, I no longer love. But on second thought, that isn\u2019t true. I think I still love those things, I just love them a little less. No, I lie again! Of course I still love those things, and love them just as much. It\u2019s just now I love with guilt.\u201d Scholars regard the letter as a kind of beginning to the Renaissance, when man turned his thoughts inward; they also question whether Petrarch truly ascended Mont Ventoux, but that doesn\u2019t matter. As John D\u2019Agata wrote of the letter in his anthology <a href=\"https:\/\/www.graywolfpress.org\/books\/lost-origins-essay\" target=\"_blank\"><em>The Lost Origins of the Essay<\/em><\/a>, \u201cIt\u2019s a great mimetic demonstration of a mind ascending something as the body does the same. But what if it is only Petrarch\u2019s mind that is doing the ascending? The real title of Petrarch\u2019s essay contains an extra word that seldom finds its way into English translations: <em>allegorico<\/em>. How much less significant is a journey of just the mind?\u201d \u2014<strong>Jeffery Gleaves<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/k10439.gif\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft wp-image-84195\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/k10439.gif\" alt=\"k10439\" width=\"250\" height=\"375\" \/><\/a>I\u2019ve only just started Andrew Scull\u2019s <em><a href=\"http:\/\/press.princeton.edu\/titles\/10439.html\" target=\"_blank\">Madness in Civilization: A Cultural History of Insanity<\/a><\/em>, but already it\u2019s taught me a lot about unreason, in all its guises. I hadn\u2019t known, for instance, that the Hebrew for \u201cto behave like a prophet\u201d can also mean \u201cto rave\u201d; or that Ancient Greek physicians construed hysteria as a uniquely feminine affliction because they believed the womb could wander about the abdomen; or that the earliest English madhouses were, almost too perfectly, renovated from \u201cdecaying mansions in once-fashionable areas,\u201d because their proprietors thought building from scratch would cut into profits too much. The <em>in <\/em>in Scull\u2019s title is a nice reproach to Foucault; we like to think of insanity as existing apart from, or before, the constructs of society\u2014and certainly we try to put it there\u2014but Scull\u2019s history unpacks centuries of our cultural baggage about madness, arguing that it\u2019s \u201cindelibly part of civilization, not located outside it.\u201d There\u2019s even a lesson spelled out on his ingenious, and literally dizzying, cover: that nervous illnesses have been widely seen, since the eighteenth century, \u201cas part of the price one paid for civilization, indeed as afflictions to which the most refined and civilized were particularly prone.\u201d \u2014<strong>Dan Piepenbring <br \/><\/strong><!--more--><\/p>\n<p>Ever wondered what it sounds like inside Oxford\u2019s Bodleian Library? Of course you haven\u2019t; it\u2019s a\u00a0<em>library<\/em>. But that hasn\u2019t stopped the university from releasing\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/www.ox.ac.uk\/soundsofthebodleian\/\" target=\"_blank\">a set of two recordings<\/a>\u2014one from the Old Library Upper Reading Room\u00a0and one from the Upper Camera\u2014to satisfy everyone\u2019s (lack of) curiosity. Incredulity aside, the recordings\u00a0provide a pleasant option for drowning out any unwanted ambiance with, well, the sounds of rarefied near-silence. \u2014<strong>Stephen Hiltner<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>\u201cLet me play you \u2018Arleen\u2019.\u201d That\u2019s how simply\u00a0<a href=\"http:\/\/www.nybooks.com\/blogs\/gallery\/2015\/mar\/25\/arleen\/\" target=\"_blank\">Luc Sante\u2019s piece<\/a>, the one\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/03\/27\/the-rise-of-slackness-and-other-news\/\" target=\"_blank\">Dan brought our attention to this morning<\/a>, begins\u2014as a gentle invitation to listen to a salacious reggae song by General Echo. From there, with sensual prose, Sante gives us a glimpse of the 1970s music scene; of the incredible violence in Kingston; of Isaiah\u2019s, the Jamaican dance club downtown that for a time lured New York City white boys with Red Stripe, weed, and the promise of \u201criddim that stretched forever.\u201d Beyond that, though, and only briefly, he tells of a romance with a woman he calls E., whom he remembers taking dancing at Isaiah\u2019s \u2014this was their \u201cchief mode of communication, an intimacy like two people sleeping together in different dreams.\u201d That intimacy permeates the piece from its opening sentence, somehow; there\u2019s a fondness for E. that\u2019s still crushing and heavy. \u2014<strong>Caitlin Youngquist<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/vulnicura_artwork_jpeg.jpeg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignright wp-image-84198\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/vulnicura_artwork_jpeg.jpeg\" alt=\"Vulnicura_artwork_jpeg\" width=\"250\" height=\"250\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/vulnicura_artwork_jpeg.jpeg 2048w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/vulnicura_artwork_jpeg-150x150.jpeg 150w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/vulnicura_artwork_jpeg-300x300.jpeg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/vulnicura_artwork_jpeg-1024x1024.jpeg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a>Lars von Trier has claimed that Bj\u00f6rk once tried to eat her own dress on the set of <em>Dancer in the Dark<\/em>\u2014an assertion that always struck me, like everything else about her, as the epitome of a kind of weird and cool. I\u2019m such a fan that I was almost nervous going to see her in the flesh, as part of the tour for <a href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Vulnicura\" target=\"_blank\"><em>Vulnicura<\/em><\/a>, her new album. She came out of the shadows dressed like a dandelion, and there was not one lull in her two-act set. \u201cBlack Lake,\u201d the ten-minute centerpiece of <em>Vulnicura<\/em>, was especially sublime. Other highlights included an exuberant rendition of \u201cThe Pleasure is All Mine,\u201d and her signature surfeit of head-banging. Bj\u00f6rk at times moves her body with such reckless abandon that she looks like a puppet; she engages without pandering. In fact, the only words she spoke to the audience were a shy \u201cthank oooohh\u201d after each round of applause. The performance lived up to her claim in \u201cBlack Lake\u201d: \u201cI am a glowing shiny rocket \/ Returning home.\u201d \u2014<strong>Kit Connolly<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>In 2012, shortly before the Spanish duo (and occasional trio) Le Parody released their debut album, <a href=\"https:\/\/leparody.bandcamp.com\/\" target=\"_blank\"><em>C\u00e1sala<\/em><\/a>, I visited the vast olive orchard where their vocalist and songwriter, Soledad Parody, composed several of the album\u2019s trance-like mixes. Parody\u2014who at seventeen published a book of poems\u2014draws inspiration from the landscape of southern Spain and its African roots, but her love affair with the American west and her travels across eastern Europe are also apparent in her music; these songs should sound chaotic for all their fusion, but instead they\u2019re meditative. Le Parody fuses folk with flamenco-inflected vocals, and the group relies as heavily on an MPC as on Cuban-born Frank Santiuste\u2019s euphoric trumpeting. The band\u2019s new single, \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=_OqPnAJP04U\" target=\"_blank\">Saetas en el aire,\u201d<\/a> was released this week.\u00a0\u2014<strong>Catherine Carberry<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>I was late in seeing <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=QUnXv6R2HI8\" target=\"_blank\">Dami\u00e1n Szifr\u00f3n\u2019s <em>Wild Tales<\/em><\/a>, but it doesn\u2019t disappoint. The film comprises six shorts, each exposing the hilarity of rage, that most irrational, most idiopathic of passions. Szifr\u00f3n braids the stories into an affecting anthology. In one story, a bride\u2014after fucking a man on the catering staff, on the rooftop of the very building where her wedding reception is being held\u2014tosses her new husband\u2019s mistress into a mirrored wall; in another, a\u00a0man takes a shit on the windshield of a car and hangs someone with a seatbelt. As Manohla Dargis puts it in her\u00a0<a href=\"http:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2015\/02\/20\/movies\/review-wild-tales-explores-the-blurred-limits-of-morality.html\" target=\"_blank\"><em>New York Times<\/em> review<\/a>, Szifr\u00f3n\u2019s \u201c[is] a mad, mad social Darwinian world, churning with men and women who, whether pushed a lot or just a little, are all eager to do the worst to one another.\u201d\u00a0But Szifr\u00f3n gives us \u201c<a href=\"http:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2015\/02\/15\/movies\/awardsseason\/the-making-of-wild-tales-an-oscar-nominee.html\" target=\"_blank\">cathartic release<\/a>\u201d; his characters are \u201cwithout the slightest social or cultural shackles on their behavior.\u201d Which raises the question: If we could <em>really<\/em> let \u2019em have it, wouldn\u2019t we? \u2014<strong>C.Y.<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Before he coined the term Dark Ages, before he became the father of humanism, and before he wrote the world\u2019s first travel guide\u2014to a place he\u2019d never actually visited, at that\u2014Petrarch climbed a mountain. In \u201cEpistolae familiares,\u201d a letter to Dionisio da Borgo San Sepolcro, Petrarch described the journey he took with his brother on [&hellip;]<\/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":[438],"tags":[17606,10899,8889,17608,15291,454,17609,17605,17607],"class_list":["post-84190","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-this-weeks-reading","tag-andrew-scull","tag-bjork","tag-bodleian-library","tag-damian-szifron","tag-insanity","tag-luc-sante","tag-manohla-dargis","tag-petrarch","tag-soledad-parody"],"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>Staff Picks: Rage, Reggae, Reading Rooms by The Paris Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"March 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