TGIF everyone! Everyone needs to brace themselves, because we are hosting a game night with a couple friends tonight! There will be 6 people total this evening. Which game do you guys recommend we play?
The state of things:
Two bookshelves in the garage, one remaining with books and magazines that have yet to be packed. A scattering of belongings and the bright sun and leaf-covered trees outside the window. Not detailed through a pictures: birdsong destined for near-summer mornings that predict a hot day and a gentle presence of outside air, easing its way into the room.
Friday, I'm pretty excited to see you. I'm see pizza, a cocktail, and family movie night in my future. A few weeks ago I had an amazing aquavit, sugar snap pea, mint, lavender and allspice cocktail at Coltivare and I'm determined to replicate it today. Stay tuned....
I have 20 pages left and it's so sad I can barely finish. Levy is a staff writer for the New Yorker and has written for dozens of other fancy publications. But this isn't a rags-to-riches story. In a few months Levy's successful life fell apart and that's what TRDNA is about.
It's easy to criticize Levy for her mistakes, and by extension, criticize her memoir. People have all sorts of nasty things to say about this human's life choices. Why did she have to write about them? Is her memoir some kind of elaborate confession, a prose penance that just happened to bring her a huge advance and become a NY Times bestseller? Modern-day publishing at its worst, would be an easy shot. A soulless product of the age of the personal essay.
I think we should ignore the naysayers. This book has a lot of strengths. It's honest, it's a rare queer story, and its portrayal of one woman splicing into two feels genuine: "The thought of leaving Lucy made me feel physically ill. To abandon my best friend in the world? Unbearable. But then I was already gone. The parallel narrative of my secret, imagined other life was always swallowing my attention, the life in which I was single, vibrant, liberated." Come on. That feels real.