Saw her in the theatre. Heart raced. Went home alone and angry.
— Schopenhauer, 1816
Life may be in color, but it’s much more real in black-and-white.
— Wim Wenders, The State of Things (1982)
Words from the pens of others that returned me to my own writings in the past week, and offered me branches of anise to chew while thinking:
Lucy Schiller’s “This and Thats: Toward an Ethics of Digression” (Cleveland Review)
Anahid Nersessian, “When Does a Divorce Begin?” (The Yale Review)
Stuart Hall and Jordan T. Camp, “When We Are All Enemies of the State” (Boston Review)
Leo Robson, “John Carey: The last public critic” (New Statesman)
Yasmin El-Rifae, “On Restlessness: Diaspora’s Nervous Energies” (Parapraxis)
Drew Basile, “The Robinsonade in the Age of Reality TV” (LARB)
Charlotte E. Rosen, “The End of Resistance History” (Protean)
Mark Iosifescu, “Using the Night: Thomas Pynchon’s evolving populisms” (n + 1)
Robert Lucas Scott, “What Gillian Rose Saw in Auschwitz” (New Statesman)
Jess Bergman, “A Firm Sense of Resolve” (The Nation)
Lily Scherlis, “Group Relations” (n+1)
Ben Libman, “By Its Bad Side” (3:AM)
Eric Dean Wilson, “Cruising for Normal” (Baffler)
“Open Letter on The New School’s ‘Restructuring’ Plans” (e-flux notes)
Elsewhere, it was a delight to spent time with Lisa Olstein’s glimmering mind.