Bing and his small army of Sunset Park squatters are part of a generation of unsettled, college-educated twenty- and thirtysomethings, bright, artistically-inclined men and women, perpetually short on cash, cobbling together a living with part-time jobs to make time for personal pursuits.
Some of the entries are set in stone from edition to edition, and that’s fine in most cases, but the entries that are being added on to can get somewhat broken-backed.
Disney de Sade, I think I’ll call it.
There is an inherent loneliness to these characters that is perhaps best summarized by Georgie from Someone Ought to Tell Here There’s Nowhere to Go.
Imagine now that passionate strain of teenage melancholia conflated with and compounded by the familiar cruelties of middle age.
Peeling back Dahl’s lifelong attraction to glamour and wealth, Sturrock uncovers an even greater fondness for English rural life, where he raises orchids and children, and thrives artistically under the general quotidian ease of life at the family’s country home, Gipsy House.
More than death, whose physical treatment reached its apotheosis in Everyman, Nemesis is about guilt, the nagging guilt that can leave a person spiritually paralyzed for life.
The heart of the book lies in its long and romantic discourses on the unseen entanglements and leitmotifs that run through all of our lives.
Joseph Skibell consistently subverts expectations as he follows Dr. Sammelsohn in his pursuit of professional credibility and personal fulfillment.
I first met Marcy Dermansky, author of the recently released at a press conference for Gus Van Sant’s Mil.
As to characterization, Michael Atkinson knows his Dos Passos fairly well, but his Hem is barely passable.
Because the playwright has been stuck on a loop for the past decade without challenging himself, how can he possibly challenge his audience?
Milo Burke’s America isn’t in the throes of environmental or theocratic chaos, just a long, slow slide into mediocrity.
While I’d love to hold out that hope, Firefly: Still Flying doesn’t really do anything to assure me that the publication is anything more than an oddly timed fan tease.
Jarman’s response to a restrictive culture that denies gay sexuality is, in his films and his writings, to be open, to be honest and forthright and at times outright confrontational.
McDonagh goes to town pointing out the many ways that one can appreciate and even find meaning in Argento’s fragmented images.
Roth makes clear the ways in which this predominant conception of female non-sexuality and general passivity is shown to have enormously devastating effects.
Given this background and now-familiar mold for thinking about film, it’s nice to see a famed novelist speak so highly of movies.
It’s not all cold-blooded murder and nihilistic despair. After all, this is a comic adventure, even if the comedy often reeks with the stink of death.
Purdy’s feeling for the patterns of individual speech, often expressed in first-person narration, tends to surprise the reader with an unforeseen potency.