{"id":90985,"date":"2015-10-16T16:38:55","date_gmt":"2015-10-16T20:38:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=90985"},"modified":"2015-10-16T17:20:00","modified_gmt":"2015-10-16T21:20:00","slug":"staff-picks-dreamers-dealers-kidney-donors","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/10\/16\/staff-picks-dreamers-dealers-kidney-donors\/","title":{"rendered":"Staff Picks: Dreamers, Dealers, Kidney Donors"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

An illustration by Gustave Dor\u00e9 for Poe\u2019s \u201cThe Raven.\u201d<\/p><\/div>\n

The two things I like most about annotated classics are the annotations and the pictures\u2014which are really the point, if you think about it: you can read the text itself in any edition. Truth be told, sometimes the annotations aren\u2019t very interesting, but the pictures rarely disappoint. Such is the case with the new Annotated Poe<\/a><\/em>\u00a0from the Belknap Press. Some are illustrations that were made to accompany Poe\u2019s works: there\u2019s great stuff from Arthur Rackham, Harry Clarke, Aubrey Beardsley, and Gustave Dor\u00e9, such as his very cosmic\u00a0(very\u00a0Little Prince<\/em>) depiction of a line from \u201cThe Raven\u201d: \u201cDoubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.\u201d But the book also includes art that was influenced, sometimes obliquely, by Poe: a still from Batman<\/em>\u00a0in 1966 shows\u00a0Adam West quoting a line from Poe\u2019s poem \u201cTo One in Paradise\u201d\u2014a nod perhaps to the fact that Bob Kane, Batman\u2019s creator, came up with the idea for the masked detective while visiting the Poe Cottage in Fordham, New York. And still other art in the book feels simply like a wonderful excuse to draw connections across time: a moody photographic close-up by Lisette Model of a pair of legs striding the nighttime pavement made the cut because Poe\u2019s description of a man\u2019s \u201cagitated restlessness\u201d in \u201cThe Man of\u00a0the Crowd\u201d prefigures\u00a0Model\u2019s candid street photography, which appeared a century later. \u2014Nicole Rudick<\/strong><\/p>\n

As a child, I understood the harrowing effect of my sullen and unloving behavior on my parents, yet continued to behave rottenly anyway. Ben Marcus\u2019s story in this week\u2019s New Yorker<\/em>, \u201cCold Little Bird<\/a>,\u201d about a ten-year-old boy who suddenly begins to withhold affection from his parents, is a chilling evocation of the pressure-cooker tension that can arise in family life. Marcus teases striking images out of dense thickets of metaphor; here his writing is spare, the story proceeding in a series of clipped passages. He captures the subtle features of relationship maintenance; one of the best scenes involves the advance-and-retreat dynamics of tactical apologies. In its refusal to diagnose, the story offers no release valve. I persevered to the end and felt uncomfortable, then guilty, then gladdened by the knowledge that I had never been as bad as this little shit, then embarrassed by that thought, then terrified of my own (nonexistent) child; then impressed that Marcus had been able to provoke in me a parent\u2019s anxiety I had never known existed. \u2014Henri Lipton
<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

From The New Yorker<\/i>\u2019s spread for Ben Marcus\u2019s new story.<\/p><\/div>\n

At the recommendation of our Southern editor, I\u2019ve been reading The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin<\/a><\/em>. I was supposed to read part of it in school, but if I did, I don\u2019t remember anything like this. In the first place, Franklin is a decidedly shady character and a sharp dealer, the kind of person who always seems to be getting drawn\u2014as if helplessly\u2014into other people\u2019s complicated scams and practical jokes. His slyness comes through in his prose. Here he is dismissing a man named Osborne (whom he had tricked, the page before, in a literary contest): \u201cOsborne went to the West Indies, where he became an eminent lawyer and made money, but died young. He and I had made a serious agreement, that the one who happen\u2019d first to die should, if possible, make a friendly visit to the other, and acquaint him how he found things in that separate state. But he never fulfill\u2019d his promise.\u201d What makes the sentences funny (and to my ear, unmistakably American) are the bland adjectives\u2014eminent, serious, friendly, separate\u2014held up like insincere little pillows against the hard facts of money and death. \u2014Lorin Stein<\/strong><\/p>\n

Colin McGinn\u2019s Prehension: The Hand and the Emergence of Humanity<\/a><\/em> is a strange little book, not quite philosophy, not quite science. With its sweeping inductive leaps and adventurous, imaginative style of reasoning, it reads like an Enlightenment treatise\u2014in this case, one that tackles nothing less than the evolution of humanity. Beginning with Darwin, McGinn sketches an inventive, uncanny, and persuasive account of the significance of the grasping, tool-wielding, highly educable hand in the progression of human cognition, language, and social organization. With odd, wry sentences scattered throughout its pages\u2014\u201cman is an ex-brachiator, an expelled tree dweller, a hand specialist, a recent (and unlikely) biological success, a touch-and-go proposition for much of his early existence, and a creature still very much in the making\u201d\u2014Prehension <\/em>(from the Latin prehendere<\/em>, \u201cto grasp\u201d) delights and educates. It\u2019s best read when one\u2019s cynicism about the humankind is running hot\u2014perhaps on a stuffy, seething, rush-hour train. \u2014Joshua Maserow<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ignore its gentle jacket and workmanlike subtitle\u2014Larissa MacFarquhar\u2019s Strangers Drowning<\/a><\/em> is a far more inquisitive, capacious, restless book than those signifiers suggest. Strangers <\/em>is a study of do-gooders in the most extreme sense of the term: MacFarquhar immersed herself in the lives of people for whom every decision, no matter how small, is an opportunity to do what\u2019s best for the world and everyone in it. There\u2019s a reason we often loathe these people. Their life stories read like thought experiments from your college ethics course turned into fraught, frightening realities: they adopt literally dozens of children, give kidneys to strangers, and found leper colonies at the risk of infecting their kids. These are utilitarians of the purest order, Benthamites, really, obsessed with maximizing good. And nothing scares me more than a practicing utilitarian. It\u2019s a flawed philosophy, as John Gray argued in a review of Peter Singer\u2019s new book from earlier this year<\/a>, and in MacFarquhar\u2019s book it seems to go from noble to delusional and back again on every page\u2014which makes Strangers <\/em>as real and provocative a study of working ethics as any I\u2019ve read. I can\u2019t stop thinking about it. \u2014Dan Piepenbring<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Ernest Hemingway\u2019s certificate of identity. The Ernest Hemingway Photograph Collection. John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum.<\/p><\/div>\n

America\u2019s great noble falsehood is that the government is of the people, by the people, and for the people. Just about the only way it\u2019s any of those things is in a theatrical sense. Lewis Lapham\u2019s latest essay, \u201cBombast Bursting in Air<\/a>,\u201d considers political theater,\u00a0how it benefits the rich, and what exactly makes this early phase of the presidential election look so messy. Lapham\u2019s approach is, as you\u2019d expect from him, a kind of throwback jeremiad; we don\u2019t see much of this kind of nineteenth-century American rhetoric being published anymore, and he does it well enough that it almost feels fresh. No one whips me into a righteous lather quite like he can. \u2014Jeffery Gleaves<\/strong><\/p>\n

The Morgan Library\u2019s exhibit, \u201cErnest Hemingway: Between Two Wars<\/a>\u201d was packed last Friday evening. It\u2019s thrilling to look at manuscript pages of Hemingway\u2019s early stories, and read his handwriting\u2014bold and vigorous, as you might imagine\u2014crammed into little cahiers d\u2019exercice<\/em>. I\u2019ll take the nostalgic, almost domestic Hemingway of A Moveable Feast<\/em> (sipping plum brandy in Miss Stein\u2019s salon, taking refuge in the Alps with Hadley and Bumby, or wandering hungrily through the Jardin du Luxembourg) over his bullfighters and soldiers any day, which is to say that I guess I\u2019ve always found his machismo a bit silly. The first thing I looked at in the exhibition was Waldo Peirce\u2019s 1929 portrait of Hemingway \u201cAlias Kid Balzac,\u201d and the last was a page from the end of an early draft of A Farewell to Arms<\/em> that read, \u201cThat is all there is to the story. Catherine died and you will die and I will die and that is all I can promise you.\u201d Between the swagger of this portrait and those bleak words, I thought Hemingway\u2019s personality\u2014with all of its intensity, bluster, humor, and despair\u2014shone through nicely. \u2014Hannah LeClair<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The two things I like most about annotated classics are the annotations and the pictures\u2014which are really the point, if you think about it: you can read the text itself in any edition. Truth be told, sometimes the annotations aren\u2019t very interesting, but the pictures rarely disappoint. Such is the case with the new Annotated […]<\/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":[15366,7647,6451,19829,19833,1759,571,12537,19832,19830,15254,19831,883],"class_list":["post-90985","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-this-weeks-reading","tag-arthur-rackham","tag-ben-marcus","tag-benjamin-franklin","tag-bob-kane","tag-colin-mcginn","tag-edgar-allan-poe","tag-ernest-hemingway","tag-gustave-dore","tag-jeremy-bentham","tag-larissa-macfarquhar","tag-lewis-lapham","tag-peter-singer","tag-staff-picks"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nStaff Picks: Marcus, MacFarquhar, Ben Franklin<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"What the staff of The Paris Review is reading this week.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, 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