According to Slate: “Typing two spaces after a period is totally, completely, utterly, and inarguably wrong.”
"Notice how Malbecco, as Gelosy, lives outside of time, a death-in-life: he can 'never dye, but dying lives.' In other words, embrace a quality entirely—even, I would argue, a less pejorative quality, like hustle—and it overmasters you. You’re doomed." Rowan Ricardo Phillips, basketball columnist for The Paris Review, on Edmund Spenser, hustle, and the New York Knicks.
Try to define the word “poetry” and you’ll quickly find yourself in a maze of contradictions. It refers, most obviously, to printed verse, but it can also refer to especially lyrical prose, among other things. At The Paris Review Daily, Damian Searls uses etymology to get some answers. Related: Kate Angus on loving poetry but not poetry books.
South Florida readers! Assuming you’re done voting by now, you should make next week’s Miami Book Fair International a priority. Afterward, you can go celebrate thirty years of Books & Books, the jewel of Coral Gables. (And perhaps to warm up for it all, you can read my review of Tom Wolfe’s Back to Blood.)
While we're on the subject of Harry Potter, I have some bad news. According to J.K. Rowling herself, Cursed Child is likely the last we'll ever see of the boy (now middle-aged) wizard: "He goes on a very big journey during these two plays and then, yeah, I think we’re done. This is the next generation, you know ... So, I’m thrilled to see it realized so beautifully but, no, Harry is done now.”
Recommended Reading: The Missouri Review's poem of the week is Rose McLarney's "Arcadia" from the fall 2013 issue. "It’s the feeling of the inquiry, 'Don’t I know you from somewhere?,' a traveler gets when she walks into a new place and still, somehow, recognizes a quality in a face, or can somehow hum a refrain in an otherwise strange song," she writes about her poetry.