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All the Pretty Corpses
Cormac McCarthy has established himself as one of the great American authors of the 20th century. His magnificent Border Trilogy, comprised of All the Pretty Horses, The Crossing, and Cities on the Plain, told the hardscrabble yet ethereal tale of John Grady Cole and Billy Parham as they roamed an exilic landscape of death, love,…
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Collection As Art
Included among the objects displayed in “Myself, I Think We Should Keep Collecting Titles,” the Lewis Center for the Arts’ sharp new exhibition of work by Dean of the Faculty and professor of computer science David Dobkin, are: snow globes, popsicle sticks, water bottle caps, Snapple lids, compact discs, keyboards, mother boards, paper tubes, credit…
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Interview with Phil Klay
The author of Redeployment and former member of the Marine Corps talks with the Nassau Weekly about war, narrative, and questions of empathy.
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Summer Postmodern
The boy has black hair that’s clipped to be unkempt. From a mall bench, he eyes two girls, who wander past in the distraction of gossip and pre-ripped jeans. He wonders which he would prefer. But he stops himself, in curt distaste, when he sees them enter a store he would not go to himself.…
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What a Catch!
A man, Dave A dog, Charlie A woman, Alice —no dialogue is audible— The action opens on a bright sunny spring day on a residential street of a bustling city. Music: chipper.
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I’m Judging You: Gogol’s Defense of Art Critique
“Gogol advocated that we do not need to reject value-judgements, but rather understand all art as part of a grander movement; great art is the product of labor and reflection, vision and passion, building off the works that precede it.”
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David Mamet Talking To His Son
DM: Son, I’d like you to come over here. JOE: Come over there? DM: Yes, come over here. JOE: But yesterday you said– DM: Why don’t you come– JOE: Yesterday at Disneyland– DM: –come and sit over here. JOE: [looking at DM] Alright. [JOE approaches DM. JOE looks into his eyes. DM looks to his…
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Poems
In fond memory of the Persian and Andalusian poets Dear, you are the hottest of all living men. Your eyes are brilliant as the puddle of oil in the parking lot, You caper like a plastic bag tumbling amid the cars. Your teeth are as rows of eggs in the carton, Your eyebrows are two…
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Gros-Câlin
If you ask me who my favorite writer is, I’ll probably say Albert Camus, because I love his writing and his ideas and also because his name is recognizable and thus me liking him helps construct a certain image of me. But I am less moved by Camus and the Nobel-prize-crowned glory of his rhetoric…
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