A lot of people spent the last eight Sunday Nights watching Ryan Murphy’s TV series, Feud, and I think I know why. First, it was a quality product: well-written, acted, edited and produced. It was also an intriguing story about well-known people in a fascinating industry. My mom, with her collection of books on the Golden Age of Hollywood, would have raved about this series, either praising or vilifying it to High Heaven. But, mostly I think the title explained why people tuned in Sunday after Sunday and can’t wait for the next season: everyone loves to watch a good fight, and the nastier it gets, the better. In case you are experiencing Feud-withdrawal, and you like a battle of wits, may I suggest Literary Feuds: A Century of Celebrated Quarrels? Trust me, when it comes to insecurity and ugly behavior in public, writers are pugilists with words. Take one of my favorite battles in the book, the one between Lillian Hellman and Mary McCarthy. You could argue these two, like Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, might have made better allies than enemies. As creative writers, political liberals, and women succeeding in fields still dominated by men they would have profited from…
One Angry Turtle I’ll tell you: Humans are Dumb. Yes, most of the world moves faster than we southern turtles, but, when it comes to missing the obvious, people take the prize. Y’all are ridiculous, and I can prove it. Take what happened to me last Saturday morning. There I was, moving at my own pace across one of your roads, (which, by the way, are too many, to begin with, and far too wide for the rest of creation) when this car comes over the hill, barreling down right toward me. Now, a squirrel or a dog would try to race that machine, but squirrels and dogs aren’t all that smart either. Humans can be outrun when they’re afoot, but none of us is faster than one of them in a car. Anyway, the stupid car started squealing its tires, making more noise than before, and it screeched to a stop…directly over me. Then it backed up, stopped again, and a human jumped out and ran toward me, making the same kind of high-pitched sound her automobile just made. “I’m so sorry, I tried not to run over you,” she cried, and I would have accepted her apology if she hadn’t…
For the last two years, popular culture has been increasingly influenced by the musical, Hamilton. First, at the Public, then the Richard Rodgers Theatres in New York and now on its first national tour, Hamilton has garnered more acclaim, and awards than any show in recent memory (I think the last show to pick up the Pulitzer, as well as the Tony and the Grammy for Best Musical was How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying). Nevertheless, this polished, game-changing production did not appear, full-blown overnight. Hamilton had a long, slow, evolutionary journey, and the story its creation is almost as fascinating and complex as the subject, itself. Thanks to its composer, Linn-Manuel Miranda, and columnist/critic Jeremy McCarter, we have an insight into that creative journey through the book, Hamilton, the Revolution. Reading it doesn’t leave you thinking (ala The Grateful Dead), “What a long, strange, trip it’s been.” It reminds us how good minds, and generous natures, can create works of genius. Take one feature of this revolutionary musical, its employment of Hip Hop and Rap. These were chosen, not just because the composer knew and loved the mediums but because he knew they were the best modes…
Looks warm but this was a 45degree morning! One of the local jokes is, “If you don’t like this weather, just wait five minutes. It’s due to change.” In April, that isn’t a joke, it’s the damn truth. Days when the mercury touches 85, are followed by fronts containing frost warnings. Gardners, who put in plants weeks ago, get chilblains covering up seedlings and cursing the cold snap that just showed up in the forecast. On its seesaw course from late winter to spring, the weather here defies prediction, not just from day-to-day, but hour to hour. This is especially hard on GRITS (aka Girls Raised in the South). Southern Women are raised to believe despite, limited income, energy and time, they must always appear “dressed for the weather.” This means April can drive a girl plumb crazy. I’ll show you what I mean 6 a.m – 45 degrees (F) – forget the sundress you set out last night and reach for the fleece hoodie and corduroy slacks you’ve been wearing since November. 10 a.m. – 65 degrees – You are smothering in corduroy and fleece, and you look like an idiot next to the spring flowers. Go back and change…
How to talk about a story with the improbable title of The Guernsey Literary And Potato Peel Pie Society? That question’s been baffling me for days. I have to talk about it because it’s the best book I’ve picked up in recent memory, and it has not one but several stories worth telling. I want to talk about it because it refers to may subjects I hold dear. But, more than anything, I want to say this is one book my mom would have loved. As a girl, my mom spent two years in England, before the Beatles but after the War. To say those years made an impression on her is like saying the Colorado River had an effect on some of the topography in Arizona. For the rest of her life, she maintained a lively and affectionate interest in the fortunes of Great Britain and everyone who had ever lived there. But, even though she saw England recovering from World War II, I don’t think she knew about what happened to the Channel Islands during the conflict. I know she never mentioned it to me. That’s one reason why The Guernsey Literary And Potato Peel Pie Society is so important. We…