Four generations of unhappiness populate the French auteur’s latest.
Filled with hairspray and dog-smoke / and cigarette meat / at the meeting in the big town-hall / of the small provincial town of / sleep
The novelists on Vietnam, Norman Mailer, and the dragon’s perspective.
I say something about the time and he replies, “I cannot sleep in this lifeless room, I can’t, I can’t. I won’t. You can’t make me.”
Sexual panic in South Brooklyn
I tried Al on like a suit and he didn’t fit. In the crotch area, excess fabric hung loose, like disappointment.
Everybody assumes I’m one or the other, at first. Sometimes it becomes a game, a mental tally of points in each column, trying to prove the original guess.
Reliable uncertainty in Deb Olin Unferth’s Wait Till You See Me Dance
Distance and searching in Katie Kitamura’s A Separation
Friendship and the lies we tell ourselves in Zadie Smith’s Swing Time.
Lucy and Kit sat waiting side by side on a black leather couch, before a long glass window that looked out over Tribeca, the winter sun in their laps. Kit stole sideward glances at Lucy, who hummed, twisting her hair around her fingers in a compulsive fashion.
Around this time I became a frequent visitor to a sex-ad bulletin board. Real-life meetups were the focal point.
“She’ll be like an apple tree among all the ash-colored buildings of that granite city.”
4 June 2010, Edinburgh. The brightness of the morning. Sky flat. No clouds. When he came into her room with coffee she was already awake.
I’ve been meaning to write to you for some time, though I am sure you are surprised to hear from me.
“This is not a movie that invites you to really empathize with these characters, nor is that the point.”
Leigh Ledare’s projects involve interpersonal triangulations in which the camera plays a crucial role and all parties, viewers included, are implicated. Upon A.R.T. Press’s publication of a book-length dialogue between him and Rhea Anastas, Ledare revisits recent works with novelist Chris Kraus.
Modern love in slow motion and black-and-white.
The day after the gallery visit, I awoke with a lingering headache, alarmed by the sound of the phone.