{"id":99935,"date":"2016-06-30T09:25:55","date_gmt":"2016-06-30T13:25:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=99935"},"modified":"2016-06-30T10:47:19","modified_gmt":"2016-06-30T14:47:19","slug":"were-both-dippy-over-him-and-other-news","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2016\/06\/30\/were-both-dippy-over-him-and-other-news\/","title":{"rendered":"We\u2019re Both Dippy Over Him, and Other News"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_99937\" style=\"width: 610px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/60s-50s-fashion7.jpg\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-99937\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-99937\" class=\"wp-image-99937 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/60s-50s-fashion7.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"600\" height=\"357\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/60s-50s-fashion7.jpg 600w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/60s-50s-fashion7-300x179.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-99937\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Gee whiz!<\/p><\/div>\n<ul>\n<li>If you\u2019ve been listening to pop music your whole life, you might think that love is a many-splendored thing, subject to the vicissitudes and vagaries of the human condition. You would be wrong. Love has exactly seven stages\u2014no more, no less. Stendhal said so: \u201c<a href=\"http:\/\/lithub.com\/the-seven-stages-of-love-according-to-french-poetry\/\" target=\"_blank\">In 1818, Stendhal\u2014then an unsuccessful writer in his midthirties named Henri Beyle\u2014met one of the loves of his life, M\u00e9thilde<\/a> \u2026 But M\u00e9thilde kept Stendhal at arm\u2019s length, and even limited their interactions, only allowing him to visit her once every two weeks, which, in turn, gave Stendhal time to develop and nurture his fantasy of her, to exaggerate his love and admiration to truly grandiose proportions. \u2018This is a love that lives only through the imagination,\u2019 Stendhal recorded in his journal \u2026 Stendhal kept track of his emotions, and began to think about love with an almost scientific scrutiny. The result of this project was called <em>De l\u2019Amour<\/em>, in which he described his famous concept of the stages of love. There are seven stages in all\u2014which could conceivably follow like episodes on a season of <em>The Bachelor<\/em>\u2014evolving in a form of crystallization: \u2018a mental process which draws from everything that happens new proofs of the perfection of the loved one.\u2019 \u201d<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<li>While we\u2019re talking love\u2014David Rees found his grandma\u2019s diaries, and they are full of it. Mainly the object of her affection is ice cream; sometimes boys, too. \u201c<a href=\"http:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2016\/07\/03\/magazine\/letter-of-recommendation-grandmas-teenage-diaries.html\" target=\"_blank\">My teenage grandmother\u2019s great genius was flirting<\/a>,\u201d he writes: \u201cThose amazing boys! The <em>peachy<\/em>, <em>dandy<\/em>, <em>charming<\/em> boys of Gloversville, anointed with adjectives now reserved for Yelp reviews of bed-and-breakfasts. I can barely keep up with her crushes, or their fluctuations in status: \u2018But what do you suppose [Peggy] told me? That Bill was mad at me because he thought I was mad at him because he talked to Velma Thorne! And there I didn\u2019t even know he\u2019d been talking to her! Wasn\u2019t it funny. &#8230; So I told [Ralph] to tell [Bill] I wasn\u2019t mad and it didn\u2019t bother me how much he talked to Velma!\u2019 It turns out poor Bill, being \u2018stout\u2019 and a cigarette-bummer (\u2018I hate to see a fellow smoke when he\u2019s with a girl on the street, don\u2019t you?\u2019) was no match for Grant. Or Jonsey. Or the mysterious \u2018Sunshine,\u2019 who, if my grandmother is to be believed, was, for one summer in 1911, the most alluring young man in the universe: \u2018one grand rower, fisher and sportsman. Really I never saw anybody like him. Emma &amp; I are both dippy over him!\u2019 \u201d<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<li>So like imagine you\u2019re a young Karl Ove Knausgaard and you get on the elevator in a fancy midtown building and hey now, it\u2019s some hotshot publisher and you\u2019ve got about thirty seconds to pitch <em>My Struggle<\/em>: \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/nplusonemag.com\/online-only\/online-only\/my-struggle-the-elevator-pitch\/\" target=\"_blank\">Ah, hello. Yes, going up. I haven\u2019t chosen a floor yet. You may know me. I\u2019m a writer<\/a>. Imagine: A young man boards the bus to his grandparents\u2019 flat in Elvegaten. He usually sits on the left side of the aisle, a few rows from the back, by the window, if the seat is available. It is: He sits there. He\u2014there\u2019s more to it, actually, but\u2014yes, have a nice day.\u201d<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<li>Marianne Moore revised her poems restlessly, constantly\u2014and sometimes publicly. In her willingness to let her readers see a poem in different iterations, she anticipated the Internet, Ali Pechman writes: \u201c<a href=\"http:\/\/www.poetryfoundation.org\/features\/articles\/detail\/89898?utm_source=twitter&amp;utm_medium=social_media&amp;utm_campaign=features\" target=\"_blank\">Particularly with respect to the way she changed her work, Moore has always struck me as more of a digital-age artist than any of her contemporaries<\/a>. Her poems were as malleable as something written online \u2026 Her process gives a hint of how a poetic mind might use the Internet. In poems such as \u2018An Octopus,\u2019 she collages together text from newspapers, guidebooks, and overheard remarks at the circus in a shimmering representation of Mount Rainier. \u2018Marriage\u2019 contains roughly thirty sources from Francis Bacon to Ezra Pound to the inscription on a statue in Central Park. Such poems are a reflection of the hours she spent scouring countless books at the library and attending lectures. Her democratic sphere of influence apes the Internet\u2014and, to follow, her aggressive self-editing reads like a symptom of that kind of capacity. One wonders what she would have written if she had had references at her fingertips.\u201d<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<li>Anne Garr\u00e9ta\u2019s <em>Sphinx<\/em>, an Oulipo project, tells a love story without ever referring to gender\u2014a feat that\u2019s all the more impressive in French, which has gender baked into its grammatical constructs<em>.<\/em> \u201c<a href=\"http:\/\/www.3quarksdaily.com\/3quarksdaily\/2016\/06\/know-thyself.html\" target=\"_blank\">To get around these rules, Garr\u00e9ta digs deep into the French language<\/a>. Instead of the <em>pass\u00e9 compos\u00e9<\/em> she uses the literary form of the past tense, the <em>pass\u00e9 simple<\/em>, which does not employ participles that require agreement, and relies heavily on the <em>imparfait<\/em>, which describes continuously-occurring past actions. Sometimes Garr\u00e9ta uses sentence fragments to avoid the verb altogether. She describes A***\u2019s body indirectly, taking advantage of the fact that, in French, an arm (<em>un bras<\/em>) is masculine even if it belongs to a female and a leg (<em>une jambe<\/em>) is feminine even when it belongs to a male. No primary or secondary sex characteristics are ever mentioned, of course: in the sex scenes thighs and crotches end up doing the erotic and narrative heavy lifting. And in one important instance a genderless English noun stands in for its gendered French equivalent.\u201d<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>If you\u2019ve been listening to pop music your whole life, you might think that love is a many-splendored thing, subject to the vicissitudes and vagaries of the human condition. You would be wrong. Love has exactly seven stages\u2014no more, no less. Stendhal said so: \u201cIn 1818, Stendhal\u2014then an unsuccessful writer in his midthirties named Henri [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":38,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2512],"tags":[17911,6314,7682,23047,675,19584,8542,2111,2006,11051,165,23048,711],"class_list":["post-99935","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-on-the-shelf","tag-anne-garreta","tag-courtship","tag-diaries","tag-elevator-pitches","tag-gender","tag-grandmas","tag-karl-ove-knausgaard","tag-love","tag-marianne-moore","tag-oulipo","tag-poetry","tag-sphinx","tag-stendhal"],"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>We\u2019re Both Dippy Over Him, and Other News by Dan Piepenbring<\/title>\n<meta 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