I‘m edging into Thesis Writing Territory soon so I’m cramming in all my fun reading before the wolves (dense medieval texts) descend.
It’s Wednesday, here’s what I’m reading!
First and foremost, Have. You. Read. The Absolutely Bonkers. True Crime Feature. At The L.A. Times. I know that’s not a sentence that usually gets your heart pumping (unless you just like true crime in general) but listen. Listen to me. Read this. I have emailed it to my mom, my boss, my girlfriend. I spent three hours reading it in bed last weekend. (Note: I feel inclined to say that if you’re wary, this story does not involve any violence or anything graphic)
No one had been killed, but something about the crime — the power and pettiness of the defendants, combined with the harmlessness of their victim — engendered a depth of indignation few cases matched. “Pure wickedness,” said one online commentator. “One of the most malicious things I’ve ever heard,” said another.
Despite working in a film and music library, I don’t know very much about film theory. Mise en scene? Anyway, this piece by Shonni Enelow over at Film Comment talks about styles of acting today and how we’ve moved on from Method acting as it’s been understood. One of the most interests points this article makes, to me, is that Carol (and specifically Rooney Mara’s acting) reflect’s (female) anxiety about surveillance.
Carol in fact gives us an allegory of the damage wrought by the over-psychologization of emotion: Carol (Cate Blanchett), whose theatrically feminine mannerisms and conjugal conflicts hail from the world of melodrama, is forced by her husband’s family to see a psychoanalyst to “cure” her lesbianism. Mara’s controlled watchfulness feels like a guard against such violation, and when she and Carol are spied upon by Carol’s husband, the invasion is all the more shattering.
“Let’s talk about talking about sex with Lorelai Gilmore and Tami Taylor” over at the A.V. Club closely examines two TV episodes on two different shows that explore how mothers and daughters navigate discussions about sex. I never watched Friday Night Lights but man, I have a lot of feelings about Gilmore Girls.
Nearly all the central drama for seven seasons grows out of the premise of Lorelai’s teenage pregnancy and subsequent estrangement from her parents. It’s a world of overbearing mothers and absentee fathers. No wonder, when it comes time for the talk, Tami catches her daughter early, but Lorelai’s too late. Both shows are about parenting, but Friday Night Lights lives in the struggle, while Gilmore Girls lives in the consequences.
MARA WILSON! has a book out! Her collection of essays, Where Am I Now, has gotten a lot of hype (good hype) and I’m personally super excited to read it. She was interviewed over at Autostraddle, and remains one of my favorite humans.
…[T]he little girl in my preschool class who said she wanted to marry me! She must have picked up on some vibes. And when we played House in Kindergarten, I would pretend to be a carpenter.
“Dining Down Memory Lane” by Jane Kramer for The New Yorker. I love food; I love reading about food, talking about food, writing about food, eating food. Which is why for the second week in a row, this column features an article about food, coincidentally both for The New Yorker. This is both a review of Paul Freedman’s new book and a feature in and of itself on restaurant culture.
I had to remind myself that this was the Eisenhower fifties, when women were not seated in most New York restaurants without a man to order, and pay, for them, despite the fact that hundreds of thousands of working women in the city were consigned to eating their paper-bag sandwiches on park benches or at their desks.
As for novels, I just finished Naomi Novik’s Uprooted (which I loved) and I’ve chosen Jaye Robin Brown’s Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit as my final foray into spare time reads.
Tell me what you’re reading!