Jeff Ragsdale (Jeff, One Lonely Guy) produced, shot and edited an “immersion documentary” in which he accompanied Canadian escorts on hundreds of calls over a span of several months. The half-hour film is entitled “30 Nights with a Call Girl.” Millions readers may recall Ragsdale’s work from its mention in our own Sonya Chung’s essay “On Loneliness.”
Since they got married and began working 33 years ago, Larissa Volokhonsky and Richard Pevear have translated around 30 works of Russian literature, from The Brothers Karamazov to Doctor Zhivago. Now their interview with the Paris Review is available online from the Literary Hub, and this seems as good a time as ever to bring up that constant debate: who's greater, Tolstoy or Dostoevsky?
“The striking thing about her search for God is that she sometimes finds him. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek’s second chapter, after a kind of introduction, is titled 'Seeing.' There are two kinds, she explains. The common variety is active, where you strain, against the running babble of internal monologue, to pay attention to what’s actually in front of you. But, she tells us, ‘there is another kind of seeing that involves a letting go.’ You do not seek, you wait. It isn’t prayer; it is grace. The visions come to you, and they come from out of the blue.” On Annie Dillard’s turn to silence.
In 1998, T.C. Boyle released his first massive collection of short stories, titled, appropriately enough, Stories. Clocking in at 700+ pages, the book illustrated the zany profligacy of one our premier short fiction writers. Now Boyle has released a new collection -- titled (of course) Stories II -- and with it comes a new trailer.
In part because I loved Sam Anderson's riff on Barthes in this weekend's NYT Magazine so much, I was thrilled to see Maud Newton tweet this link this 2010 article on Barthes's handwriting, featuring a slideshow of note cards Barthes used to compose his Mourning Diary.
James Joyce inspires a lot of English papers but not songs. Yet musician Casey Black based his song "Happiness" off of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. With lyrics like, "So I walk the Dublin streets like they were passageways through my soul," we think Joyce would approve.