Z e t e o
Reading, Looking, Listening, . . . Questioning
Categories: William Eaton, ZiR | 2 Comments

(1) One week this past October, The New Yorker’s television critic, Emily Nussbaum, wrote a piece which began by dissing—as making “little sense”; “élitism in the guise of hipness”—one of the great works of American cultural criticism, previous New Yorker writer George W.S. Trow’s “Within the Context of No Context.”[1] The week after Nussbaum’s piece […]

ZiR
Categories: Fritz Tucker, ZiR | 1 Comment

In Dancing in the Streets: A History of Collective Joy (Holt Paperbacks, 2007), Barbara Ehrenreich writes about the evolution of carnivals; from tribal societies masking and dancing to manufacture group solidarity (Intro, Ch. 1); to feudal festivals that challenged oppressive gender and class relations (Ch. 4). Writes Ehrenreich: Whatever social category you had been boxed into–male or female, rich […]

ZiR

sometimes I forget what country I’m in I could write poems in bed I think have some Americans look at your awful mov- ie to tell you when you’re wrong & just racist. I got this bug bite that could be anything. — the opening lines of Dissolution, by Eileen Myles[1]   The August 24 […]

ZiR
poetry

Rita Dove was named Poet Laureate of the United States in 1993 when she was just forty years old. By then, though, she had written a few novels and several collections of poetry, including Thomas and Beulah (1986), which won the Pulitzer Prize. The poem below is not an example of how Dove confronts complex historical […]

ZiR

On the hit show Louie, aside from a token, comedic clip of fantasy in each episode, realism rules the roost. Louie C.K.’s dedication to portraying the struggles of a single-father and stand-up comedian in NYC in a realistic fashion leaves the show, much like real life, somewhere between a comedy and a drama.

ZiLL

  Not many young adult authors launch their novels with a poem, much less a two-page piece that transcends their target demographic. So I was surprised to find the poem below on the very first page of bestselling YA author Sarah Dessen‘s novel “That Summer.” The poem is by South Carolina author Dannye Romine Powell, an […]

ZiR

{click for Renoir, Love: Pdf}   Harvard’s Fogg Museum does not think of itself as “portrait gallery”—it includes more than “just” portraits. Nonetheless, I am prepared to make the following, likely unprovable, assertion: The percentage of wonderful portraits to total number of artworks on display is greater at the Fogg than at any other museum […]

ZiLL

  One cannot ignore or underestimate the emotional depth associated with traditional Confucian values in China, specifically in relation to the social environment and parental feelings imposed on a single daughter. Any attempt by her to break away from the conservative expectations of the traditional family unit often results in conflict. The artist Lu Zhang […]

    I keep coming back to this poem by British Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy again and again. There is a myth among poetry writers that poets will only ever write a few perfect poems. Well, I think this is part of her (quite ample) list of absolutely perfect poems.  It is from her collection “Rapture,” […]

ZiR
writing england

Last week, I wrote about a poem written by Randall Mann titled “Bernal Hill.” A discerning reader pointed at the near-obvious reference Mann’s poem makes to the classic “Dover Beach,” written in the mid-1800’s by English poet Matthew Arnold. I accept that the reference totally slipped my grasp, so I wanted to share Arnold’s poem […]

ZiR
Categories: Fritz Tucker, ZiLL | 1 Comment

Today I stumbled upon these photos from a 1946 yearbook uploaded to Imgur. The captions speak for themselves, with descriptions like: Vera Brumfield: Our pretty little “fat” girl–nice as they come. Doesn’t really need reducing. Mildred Howerton: Here comes the Navy. She’s got the ring but Mildred, remember, a sailor’s got a gal in every […]

ZiLL

Recent Comments

Categories: William Eaton, ZiR | 1 Comment

Today I stumbled upon these photos from a 1946 yearbook uploaded to Imgur. The captions speak for themselves, with descriptions like: Vera Brumfield: Our pretty little “fat” girl–nice as they come. Doesn’t really need reducing. Mildred Howerton: Here comes the Navy. She’s got the ring but Mildred, remember, a sailor’s got a gal in every […]

ZiR

July 26, 2018

A point of information... This book was translated as "A Fortnight in the Wilderness" and included as Appendix 2 in "Democracy In America: Historical-Critical Edition", edited by Eduardo Nolla. There this amazing text can be read in full. It is worth comparing the translation by James Schleifer to your own. In particular, the rendering of "désert" to "wilderness" is most intriguing.

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Categories: William Eaton, ZiR | 1 Comment

Today I stumbled upon these photos from a 1946 yearbook uploaded to Imgur. The captions speak for themselves, with descriptions like: Vera Brumfield: Our pretty little “fat” girl–nice as they come. Doesn’t really need reducing. Mildred Howerton: Here comes the Navy. She’s got the ring but Mildred, remember, a sailor’s got a gal in every […]

ZiR

July 26, 2018

Thanks so much for this translation and excellent analysis.

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Categories: William Eaton, ZiR | 1 Comment
Asano_Takeji-No_Series-Snow_at_Iwashimizu_Hachiman_Shrine_Kyoto

Today I stumbled upon these photos from a 1946 yearbook uploaded to Imgur. The captions speak for themselves, with descriptions like: Vera Brumfield: Our pretty little “fat” girl–nice as they come. Doesn’t really need reducing. Mildred Howerton: Here comes the Navy. She’s got the ring but Mildred, remember, a sailor’s got a gal in every […]

ZiR

July 16, 2018

Thanks a lot, Steve. And, continuing the segue-ing, here's an old (and traditional) Gary Snyder poem I just came across yesterday: Seaman’s Ditty I’m wondering where you are now Married, or mad, or free: Wherever you are you’re likely glad, But memory troubles me. We could’ve had us children, We could’ve had a home— But you thought not, and I thought not, And these nine years we roam. Today I worked in the deep dark tanks, And climbed out to watch the sea: Gulls and salty waves pass by, And mountains of Araby. I’ve travelled the lonely oceans And wandered the...

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