Maya Angelou reciting “Still I Rise“–in case you’re feeling be-Job-ed today and need of the consolation of literature or if you have doubts about the existence of true poetry in the present age. (Printed text of the poem is here.)
Still I Rise
Putting the Fiction in Nonfiction
While researching In Cold Blood, Truman Capote took pains to get the story right, so much so that the final product was, he claimed, “immacutely factual.” The tale of his labors is so well-known that Bennett Miller used it as the basis of his movie Capote. So when allegations surface that the author made deliberate errors, the story gets a little bit... awkward.
●
●
Instapoetry Month
We’re in the thick of National Poetry Month now, and Tweetspeak has a full round-up of ways to participate online. In particular, I think the Virginia Quarterly Review’s “Instapoem” series is especially rad. (Gee, I wonder why.)
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell No More
US Petty Officer 2nd Class Marissa Geata and her partner, Petty Officer 3rd Class Citlaic Snell, showed that, indeed, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is dead. The couple shared a kiss in the Navy tradition: winning a raffle for the first kiss on the pier after a ship returns from sea.
●
●
3 comments:
Add Your Comment: Cancel reply
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Speaking Of Violence
Recommended Reading: This beautiful essay from The Rumpus on the ambivalence of Jewishness and a whole lot more nuance than this Curiosity can communicate. Here's an essay by Gabriel Brownstein from The Millions on what it means to be labeled as a Jewish writer.
●
●
Hatchet Man
“Book reviews are another matter, because a bad review has the potential to be far more adversarial: one writer spending years on a book, one reviewer spending days reading it, and a lasting relationship being created between the two in print. Or, perhaps, a history between the two that lends the review a particular piquancy.” An exegesis of the good bad review.
Pure poetry? You’ve got to be kidding me. Pure garbage is more like it. Maya Angelou is exactly what is wrong with today’s poetry.
Dear Mr. YoJohnny,
How delightful to have such eloquent, intelligent, and civil readers as you. My warmest regards to you and my best wishes for lovely day, Emily