Reading List: Mother’s Day

Emily Perper is a freelance editor and reporter, currently completing a service year in Baltimore with the Episcopal Service Corps.

With Mother’s Day on the horizon, I chose “mothers/relationship with moms” as the theme of my list this week:

(Photo: Böhringer Friedrich, Wikimedia Commons)

UPDATE: Here are some additional Mother’s Day recommendations from you:

I went rogue and made my own Mothers’ Day @longreads list. ow.ly/kSx9D

— simone eastman (@SimoneEastman)

May 9, 2013

My most favorite mother essays # 1: Baby Weight by @cherylstrayedbrainchildmag.com/2013/02/from-t… #longreads

— Molly Beer (@tornmap)

May 10, 2013

My most favorite mother essays # 2: Moonrise by Penny Wolfson theatlantic.com/past/docs/issu… #longreads

— Molly Beer (@tornmap)

May 10, 2013

My most favorite mother essays # 3: Private Ceremonies by Trish O’Connorbit.ly/15Uf7QV #longreads

— Molly Beer (@tornmap)

May 10, 2013

Longreads Guest Pick: BKLYNR’s Favorite Brooklyn Stories

Thomas Rhiel and Raphael Pope-Sussman are the founding editors of BKLYNR, a new online publication that features in-depth journalism—including more than a few #longreads—about Brooklyn.

Thomas’s pick: “Brooklyn: The Sane Alternative,” by Pete Hamill in New York magazine

It’s 2013—three long years since New York magazine asked “What was the hipster?”—and yet there are still people for whom Brooklyn means Bedford Avenue. It’s depressing that so played out a trope could displace, in the popular imagination, everything else that the borough is: more populated than Manhattan and three times as massive; a patchwork of neighborhoods, some of which, incredibly, aren’t Williamsburg or Park Slope; and a place whose history stretches as far back as the country’s.

A restorative for the trend piece du jour is Pete Hamill’s “Brooklyn: The Sane Alternative,” a New York magazine cover story from 1969. It’s an oldie but goodie, a look at the borough’s bounce back from what Hamill sees as its postwar (and post-Dodgers) decline. As a snapshot of an evolving Brooklyn from decades ago, the story’s a fascinating read today. And Hamill’s wide-angle view of the borough’s complexities, as well as his celebration of its energy and diversity, still rings true.

Raphael’s pick: “Gentrified Fiction,” by Elizabeth Gumport in n+1

There’s a story many Brooklynites tell in which the moment of their arrival in a neighborhood coincides with the last breath of its “authentic” life. Those who came after, this story goes, never knew the “real” neighborhood. They missed the junkies who hung out on the stoops down the block, the bodega on the corner that sold 40s, the drop ceilings and vinyl siding and linoleum. It’s a seductive story, to hear and to tell. But it’s also a destructive story—really a myth—that valorizes an arbitrary authenticity at the expense of a more complex understanding of the place we call home. What is the “real” Brooklyn—what is the “real” anywhere?

If you’re interested in interrogating that question, I strongly recommend Elizabeth Gumport’s 2011 essay “Gentrified Fiction,” which explores the fixation on authenticity in contemporary literature about Brooklyn.

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Our Longreads Member Pick: My Body Stopped Speaking to Me, by Andrew Corsello

For this week’s Member Pick, we’re excited to share “My Body Stopped Speaking to Me,” a personal story from GQ writer and National Magazine Award winner Andrew Corsello about a near-death experience. The piece was first published in GQ in 1995. Corsello explains:

I was circling the drain in the spring of 1995—convalescent, out of money, literally within days of quitting the business—when David Kamp, a friend from college who’d become a senior editor at GQ, called to ask if I’d be interested in a staff-writing job. ‘You know I’m damaged goods, right?’ I asked. He didn’t, but made things happen anyway. The day I arrived at GQ, David introduced me to the mag’s longtime editor, Art Cooper, an old-school manly man’s man who’d have insisted on christening my arrival with a hard drink or three (even though it was 11:00 a.m.) had David not preempted it. ‘Now, Art,’ David explained as Art took my hand, ‘you can’t take it personally when Andrew declines the drink you’re going to offer him—he’s been told by doctors he can never drink again.’ Art asked why. Over the next 15 minutes, I told him the bizarre story of my near-death from liver failure six months before. ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘That’s your first piece for the mag!’ At which point I reflexively wondered, ‘But what’s the angle?’ And, answering myself, said, ‘How about, “If I were in an HMO, I’d be dead”’? Before I could finish my next sentence, Cooper said, ‘Nah, just write the story.’ But what about, you know, the health care angle… ‘Huh?’ Cooper said. ‘Forget that. Just…write the story, like you just told it.’ But what about… We went back and forth several more times, with me burping up inane buzz-crap like ‘nut graf’ and ‘policy relevance’ and Cooper saying ‘Write the story.’ Finally, half laughing, half pissed, he growled, ‘Just write the fucking story.’ So I left his office, sat at my new desk, created a new file, sat staring at the screen for several minutes and then realized: The story was already written, and written as well as it ever could be (at least by me), in my journal. Creating this piece, which Kamp edited, was almost entirely a matter of splicing journal entries together.

Even now it amazes and annoys me: that until the moment Art Cooper told me to write the fucking story, it had never even occurred to me to use in my published work the voice in which I had been speaking to myself for years. That is, it hadn’t occurred to me to publish work…in my own voice. How stupid is that? All this is to say that this story, or rather the editorial injunction that birthed it, taught me that a vivid writing voice is less a matter of talent—far less—than license. Dave Kamp’s headline for this piece plays at multiple levels.

Read an excerpt here.

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Illustration by Kjell Reigstad

Longreads Guest Pick: Pravesh Bhardwaj on Alice Munro’s ‘The Bear Came Over the Mountain’

Today’s guest pick comes from frequent Longreads contributor Pravesh Bhardwaj:

“I am a filmmaker based in Mumbai. These days I am writing a screenplay, which might become my next film. I spend more time ‘trying to write’ than doing the real writing. So I have made a deal with myself: Read a piece of fiction I have not read before, and read it online so that I don’t run away from the computer—and then go back and take another stab at writing. The idea is to relax in front of the screen that scares me as I have not written enough on the day.

“Alice Munro’s ‘The Bear Came Over the Mountain’ (The New Yorker, 1999) is one of the finest stories I have ever read. It is about Grant and Fiona, who have been married for many decades, and how their relationship changes once Fiona gets institutionalized as she is in early stages of Alzheimer’s disease. I am yet to see Sarah Polley’s film adaptation (Away From Her). Maybe I will, after I have read the story a few times—maybe never. Yes, I love the story that much.”

Read the story here.

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articles read & loved no. 51

dietcoker:

• Marin Cogan’s excellent profile of rising tennis star Sloane Stephens
• The Dark Side of Audrey Hepburn
• I Invited Homeless Addicts to my House for Thanksgiving Dinner (I’ve been reading through the profiles of addicts living in Hunts Point, Bronx, compiled by Chris Arnade.)
• Amber chronicles coming to terms with her hair in Going Natural. 

My Top 5 #Longreads on the Business of Film, Music and Books

Mark Armstrong (that’s not him above) is the founder of Longreads, and editorial director for Pocket.

This past week’s Steven Soderbergh speech on “The State of the Cinema” isn’t as big a downer for film lovers as these choice quotes might have you believe:

“Shouldn’t we be spending the time and resources alleviating suffering and helping other people instead of going to the movies and plays and art installations? When we did Ocean’s Thirteen the casino set used $60,000 of electricity every week. How do you justify that? Do you justify that by saying, the people who could’ve had that electricity are going to watch the movie for two hours and be entertained—except they probably can’t, because they don’t have any electricity, because we used it.”

Or:

“When people are more outraged by the ambiguous ending of The Sopranos than some young girl being stoned to death, then there’s something wrong.”

Soderbergh does offer some encouraging news about the amount of independent films being distributed:

“In 2003, 455 films were released. 275 of those were independent, 180 were studio films. Last year 677 films were released. So you’re not imagining things, there are a lot of movies that open every weekend. 549 of those were independent, 128 were studio films. So, a 100% increase in independent films, and a 28% drop in studio films…”

The downside, of course, is that it’s harder to get them seen:

“…and yet, 10 years ago: Studio market share 69%, last year 76%. You’ve got fewer studio movies now taking up a bigger piece of the pie and you’ve got twice as many independent films scrambling for a smaller piece of the pie. That’s hard. That’s really hard.”

For further reading, the Soderbergh speech reminded me of a few other excellent #longreads about the business of art:

1. “Letter to Emily White at All Songs Considered” (David Lowery, June 2012)

Lowery, the founder of bands including Camper Van Beethoven and Cracker, paints a bleak picture of the state of the music industry, particularly when it comes to professional studio musicians.

2. “The Business of Literature” (Richard Nash, VQR, Spring 2013)

Nash offers historical context for those worried about the future of books: “Book culture is in far less peril than many choose to assume, for the notion of an imperiled book culture assumes that book culture is a beast far more refined, rarified, and fragile than it actually is.”

3. “Some Thoughts on Our Business” (Jeffrey Katzenberg, Letters of Note, 1991)

Katzenberg’s memo to colleagues at Disney, which in addition to having allegedly inspired the memo in Jerry Maguire, also addresses the blockbuster mentality.

4. “I’m for Sale” (Genevieve Smith, Elle, April 2013)

Smith searches for a balance between creative fulfillment and financial security. 

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What are you reading (and loving)? Tell us.

(Photo by Thore Siebrands, via Wikimedia Commons)