My Disappointment Critic
I hadn’t realized until Wood was off my pedestal that I’d built one. That I’d sunk stock in the myth of a great critic.
I hadn’t realized until Wood was off my pedestal that I’d built one. That I’d sunk stock in the myth of a great critic.
The real human problem is not the need to remember everything: it is the necessity of deciding what it is important to remember.
For Marx, Hobsbawm emphasizes, capitalism was not just exploitation and oppression. What made capitalism unique was its dynamism.
These unanticipated truffles hiding deep in the gratin dauphinois of Gopnik's larger story remind us that food permeates every facet of our lives.
Cage, so long associated with the New York avant-garde, now strikes me as quintessentially Californian, and more specifically, Angeleno.
Beyond Ligon’s instinct for the telling quote, it is the sumptuously lush surfaces of his paintings that beguiles the eye.
A scientist named Dr. Victor discovers the secret to life itself and, hoping to bear a race “better and nobler” than humanity, creates a giant man through nefarious processes.
The pre-Comics Code era was so lawless and raw it was apparently Ageless.
I’d found my thing. I embraced the scary. I befriended it. The monsters and I fell in love, and I didn’t question why. I was home.
Didion is so afraid of her own depths of feeling she can’t avoid revealing them. That’s her contradiction, her fascination.
Reading Didion’s prose has always been an aural experience as much as a literary one, as much about rhythm and intonation.
So raw on the page that it infuses you.
This is autobiography at its most fragmented.
Didion circles the images of her past like a wary woman who has found a basket lodged in the reeds that contains a sleeping infant.
Joan Didion is, as we know, a cool customer.
The theme of male friendship is virgin territory for Rush, but the basic framework of the protagonist-couple and their idioverse is a Rushian staple.