And Moses said unto him, Enviest thou for my sake? would God that all the LORD’s people were Managing Editors of the Washington Review of Books, and that the LORD would put his spirit upon them!
N.B.:
The next WRB x Liberties salon will take place on May 18. If you would like to come discuss the topic “Should you like your friends?” please contact Chris or Celeste Marcus.
Links:
In The Paris Review, an excerpt adapted from Yan Lianke’s new book on being a writer in China (Sound and Silence: My Experience with China and Literature, translated by Carlos Rojas, April 23):
Third, there is writing that transcends light to reach the truth of darkness. This kind of writing is risky because you not only betray light after transcending it but also betray all the authors and works positioned in the intermediary zone between light and darkness. Furthermore, everything located in the light and at its margins is visible, whereas the truth of that darkness remains invisible and can only be felt. Therefore, your writing is not something everyone can recognize, and instead it leads people to doubt, argue, and spurn. This is also why writing that transcends light to reach darkness, and which proceeds from the illuminated window to the area beneath the dark window—this kind of writing requires not only courage but also talent and creativity. You need to know that the closed window is truth but that the open window is also truth. If you hope to perceive truth and existence in darkness, you must also see truth and existence in light. The question you should most care about involves not only the joy and propitiousness that people experience in the light together and the way they gasp and struggle in darkness, but also the anxiety they experience in the boundary zone between these two sets of windows.
In VAN, Patrick Hagan on the changing uses of Philip Glass’ music:
The ubiquitous association between Glass’ music and the act of studying or relaxing feels strange when you consider the intense—at times violent—reactions this music used to conjure. It also appears to fly right in the face of what Minimalist music was all about: experiencing the minute and gradual change in the music. That’s hard to do when you’re also writing a term paper.
Why is this? For one, not all Minimalist music is getting this treatment. Neither Reich nor Riley are on these kinds of playlists. And it’s often Glass’ film music—The Hours (2002) in particular—that gets the most play. So one explanation is that, in the same way Antônio Carlos Jobim’s music was redefined by its use in elevators and shopping aisles, Glass’ music was redefined by his soundtracks. In a time where every act can be accompanied by any soundtrack, his music thrives.
[If Koyaanisqatsi (1982) is any indication, Glass’ music is well-suited for performing repetitive tasks in the current world. His soundtrack there undermines the point Godfrey Reggio, the director, wanted to make; the images of the technologically dependent modern world do not seem out of balance or out of control since Glass’ score, although hyperactive, is always perfectly balanced and perfectly controlled. It forces control and stability into material which would otherwise lack it. —Steve] [Low-Fi Environmental Distress To Chill And Study To. —Chris]
In The Point, Michel Chaouli, Sergio Tenenbaum and Keren Gorodeisky comment on their favorite passages from Kant for his 300th birthday, which was Monday. Gorodeisky:
One thing I like about Kant is how he illuminates this central dimension of our lives. He calls the capacity for appreciating beauty and art “taste,” and describes it as “a faculty of making social judgments.” Taste “concerns the communication of our feeling of pleasure or displeasure to others.” I communicate my pleasure in The Flick (2013) to you because appreciating it (and any beauty) is done through “sensus communis,” which Kant identifies with taste. What is this sensus communis? It is “the idea of a communal sense, i.e., a faculty for judging that in its reflection takes account (a priori) of everyone else’s way of representing in thought.”
[Behind the paywall: Steve on new language in Lucretius and Dante, Julia on sitting with “strange” poetry, Edward Said, Anne Carson, the publishing industry, vinyl, feelings about art, Elizabeth Bishop, and more links, reviews, news items, and commentary carefully selected for you, just like on Saturdays. If you like what you see, why not sign up for a paid subscription? The WRB is for you, and your support helps keep us going.]
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