The Guilty Pleasures of Emily in Paris
I tried to avoid this show. Then I succumbed.
Arts & Letters
Reading the Iliad in a Time of War
It is predictable, but also true, to say that the Iliad makes poetry out of war and conflict. It is more precise to say that the Iliad reminds us that war and conflict are always with us, whether in open conflagration and mounting body counts or simmering beneath the surface.
The Death of a Tavern Keeper
When Bobby Kirksey bought Jacobsmeyers—already a legacy tavern in Granite City—he made it clear to his musician friends that his tavern was open to us. He meant it.
Searching for Debussy’s Cathedral, Behind the Wheel
Sitting in my idle rental car at various stoplights in rural Michigan, I felt the transcendent parallel fifths of Claude Debussy’s “La cathedral engloutie” wash over my ears all over again.
The Heartland Student Journalism Fellowship Announces Second-Year Recipients for 2024
Washington University in St. Louis undergraduate student Alethea Franklin and St. Louis writer Marie Wenya Burns are the second annual recipients of the Heartland Journalism Fellowships.
The Most Useful, Least Appreciated, Most Stolen Article in the World
Do not underestimate the humble No. 2 pencil.
Bob Putnam, My First Man, Is Gone
Though Bob Putnam was old enough to be my father and he nurtured and supported me, as he did for hundreds of other young creative artists, I would not say he was a father figure. I would expect a father to be an authority figure. Bob was an anti-authority figure.
That Wild Creature Neko Case
On January of this year Neko Case posted to Instagram an unglamour shot of herself with the note, “This is me all hagged-out drained of life essence.” Even the red had bled out of her hair.
Arcs and Loops: TCR at Sea
Often we think that the paths we choose are straight—northerly from Florida to Maryland, in the case of the transit of my friend’s boat, Castaway—but in reality our lives are made of arcs, loops, and retracings.
The Killers: TCR at Sea
Fred could not pilot his own boat during the inspection. Fred had never done vital maintenance; the generator alone was a rusted hulk with rotting hoses. Fred was an aging guy who owned a chain of carpet stores, or some such, and was dowdy. A real Rotarian.