When I look at these so-called powerful women on TV, I see a kind of Rorschach for audiences around two questions: Is this a woman whose life you’d actually want? And: Is this a woman whose life reflects any reality you know?
"There is truth in all these criticisms. Like all ambitious, voluminous work — like an epic novel — there is bagginess, missteps. But also like a great novel, each viewer is grabbed by something different: a particular through-line keeps her watching, crowds out the shortcomings; a specific narrative or emotional thread compels devotion.”
"The trouble is that monsters have a lineage too, and our monsters have changed. Errol Childress is a quaint monster, a monster of convenience, a camp monster, a monster in drag. Monster, as every English professor likes to remind us, comes from the same root as demonstrate: a monster is supposed to mean, to signify, to instruct. Errol Childress has nothing to teach us, and neither does True Detective in its fond hope that these old manly genres can keep operating in the exhausted currency of mutilated women, or its insistence that evil somehow proclaims itself."
Literary magazines are the legend to the map of American letters.
What is the wider cultural influence of literary magazines? To be certain, I am not sure there needs to be one.
I will be posting one poem, composed of dialogue from the show, for every episode of The Bachelorette with Desiree Hartsock.
Let’s talk about the tray of elephants in the room.
It’s so flattering, the way they want to get my attention.
This is all about you finding the man of your…
Easily the best part about The Bachelorette being back on the air? The return of Leigh Stein’s Bachelorette poems.