Journalism’s Real Hoax Problem Journalism’s Real Hoax Problem
Eric with the latest reviews and Reed on accountability in mainstream journalism.
Feb 26, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Eric Alterman and Reed Richardson
Woody and Mia: A Modern Family Timeline Woody and Mia: A Modern Family Timeline
The tangled web of affairs, accusations and legal battles that defined Woody Allen and Mia Farrow’s relationship unfolded over three decades.
Feb 26, 2014 / Books & the Arts / JoAnn Wypijewski
Whistler’s Battles Whistler’s Battles
Ambitious beneath his pose of indolence, James McNeill Whistler was the most contradictory of artists.
Feb 19, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Barry Schwabsky
Big MoMA’s House Big MoMA’s House
MoMA’s new expansion plans represent avant-gardism at its most deracinated.
Feb 19, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Michael Sorkin
Ted Cruz Is Trolling Congress; It’s Time the Media Call Him on It Ted Cruz Is Trolling Congress; It’s Time the Media Call Him on It
Eric with the latest reviews and Reed on Ted Cruz.
Feb 18, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Eric Alterman and Reed Richardson
Political Theaters Political Theaters
From Yes Minister and The Thick of It to Veep, Scandal and House of Cards, British political satire and its American progeny reveal growing disillusionment with political irreality...
Feb 17, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Michelle Orange
From & Friends From & Friends
Failing upward at the Democratic Leadership Council with Al From.
Feb 11, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Rick Perlstein
Water and Soil, Grain and Flesh Water and Soil, Grain and Flesh
Walter Johnson reconsiders the connection between slavery and capitalism.
Feb 11, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Robin Einhorn
Autumn Journal Autumn Journal
Gingerly the moon moves near the hilltop church and slides around the transept, slow, to peer inside the cloister. No: those are not friars there, but children… outside their nests. She rests against a brim of wind. Their wings are hurt… But lying in ordered rows of narrow beds they’re all asleep, as if they’re tired. Tired from flying, at least in dreams, and so in dreams their mothers hold them close against warm skin. The moon, she listens in. She doesn’t want to wake them, she only wants to see. And then she leaves, but rises high. She needs to make the hilltops gleam, and drape a sheen across the sea, but too she sends a beam back down to where the children sleep. And up she climbs, up through the sky, the high good sky, and searches far and wide to find the stars. Where are the stars? She scans the sky. Where can they be? She wants to tell the faultless virgin stars what she has seen. (translated from the Italian by Taije Silverman and Marina Della Putta Johnston)
Feb 11, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Giovanni Pascoli