sick day
Today was a quiet day. I took a sick day to finally kick this cold into submission. I think I did the job, but tomorrow morning's hacking cough is the true test. I read Malcolm Gladwell's "Blink" from start to finish today and began "The Brief History of the Dead" by Kevin Brockmeier which is excellent. I started it at the laundrymat (washing the sheets and pajamas, germy from me lolling around all day blowing my nose, drinking iced coffee and reading in the twisted white sheets) and couldn't put it down. Last night I finished reading last week's New Yorker. The article on Joseph Ratzinger and forgiveness in Germany was fascinating and resonates with Tim's work on historical injustice and reparations. I'm looking forward to getting this week's issue. The anniversary issue which I usually can't finish. I'm gonna give it my best shot. Does anyone else skip the fiction in the New Yorker? For someone like me who loves fiction, I just can't bring myself to read it in the New Yorker unless it's someone I love (Alice Munro). Also, why does it seem that Murakami writes every fifth short story featured in the magazine?
I'm eagerly awaiting my order of cds from amazon.com. For some reason free shipping = a five week wait for cds. Go figure, but soon I'll have the newest cds from Beth Orton and The Elected, plus Nanci Griffith's "Storms" (a favorite on tape that I lost thanks to Katrina) and Jenny Lewis' solo album. Jenny Lewis played last night at the Angel Orensanz Center on the Lower East Side. RJ, Helene and I saw Edward P. Jones and Jonathan Lethem read there for the 2004 New Yorker festival fiction night. If you have never been to this space, you should make an effort to do so. It's an incredibly beautiful place, tucked away on the Lower East Side. By the time I found out about the concert, it was already sold out. So is the way with NYC concerts... Buying tickets the day of a concert is one of the few things I miss about Philadelphia. But there's a review of the show in the NYT. The reviewer compares Lewis' music to that of my longtime favorite singer Laura Nyro. Lewis covered "I Met Him on a Sunday" which made me go to the original which I bought at AKA Records in Philly in October while in town for Marguerite's wedding. I also pulled the anchor out of Marguerite's wedding cake (see cake pulls) that weekend. Between the Laura Nyro and the anchor, I'm still seeking refuge from the roads.
I'm eagerly awaiting my order of cds from amazon.com. For some reason free shipping = a five week wait for cds. Go figure, but soon I'll have the newest cds from Beth Orton and The Elected, plus Nanci Griffith's "Storms" (a favorite on tape that I lost thanks to Katrina) and Jenny Lewis' solo album. Jenny Lewis played last night at the Angel Orensanz Center on the Lower East Side. RJ, Helene and I saw Edward P. Jones and Jonathan Lethem read there for the 2004 New Yorker festival fiction night. If you have never been to this space, you should make an effort to do so. It's an incredibly beautiful place, tucked away on the Lower East Side. By the time I found out about the concert, it was already sold out. So is the way with NYC concerts... Buying tickets the day of a concert is one of the few things I miss about Philadelphia. But there's a review of the show in the NYT. The reviewer compares Lewis' music to that of my longtime favorite singer Laura Nyro. Lewis covered "I Met Him on a Sunday" which made me go to the original which I bought at AKA Records in Philly in October while in town for Marguerite's wedding. I also pulled the anchor out of Marguerite's wedding cake (see cake pulls) that weekend. Between the Laura Nyro and the anchor, I'm still seeking refuge from the roads.
posted by lequincampe at 7:35 PM
2 Comments:
" Does anyone else skip the fiction in the New Yorker? ... Also, why does it seem that Murakami writes every fifth short story featured in the magazine?"
1. I almost never skip the fiction. For me, skipping the fiction is like eating just the crust of a piece of quiche. I often skip the architecture articles (feh) and the dance articles (pretentious, can't stand Joan Acocella's writing).
2. Because someone at the NYer has Murakami's dick so far down his throat that they can't publish anyone else. Or so it seems. I can't tell what that's about, I mean, I like his novels, but the short stories are hard for me to get into (I think you need the length of a novel to really commit to Murakami).
I will have to try to read it more often, but I feel like fiction is segregated to the back of the classroom. I wish they would mix it up and let fiction follow the talk of the town for once. By the time I get to the fiction, I am just thankful that I was able to finish the magazine and have at that point lost the steam it would take to read an author with which I am unfamiliar.
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