"Sometimes I like to think about what kind of sounds the people of a hundred or seventy-five years ago might have taken for granted, and those that are new—like the rattle of that stiff cereal bag, or a waking computer, of course—and those that will be extinct in our lifetime."
Evening the Ark
After judgment & the wet sacrament of slaughter,
greener than Eden, a shock of bliss to see
just past the stew and suck of reeking waters,
the earth ate sunshine under the olive trees.
Noah, his wife, their sons, their daughters
rushed to lower the gangplank. Awkward, long doubled,
unboxed & jostling, the passengers suddenly freed
hustled uncoupling ashore to uncouple, suddenly free.
“He suffered as he’d never found someone or some idea from which he could take courage. I felt I was looking at myself.”
This week, we’re presenting five vignettes by David Mamet. Today’s vignette: the man with the companion animal.
Art: Detail from Ivan Makarov’s Unknown Man, c. 1880s.
“It is odd, what a translator draws on to call up the mental atmosphere necessary to do justice to another’s text, and it reminds you that linguistic facility is only a part of the job.”
Enjoy our selections from Josef Winkler’s novel Graveyard of Bitter Oranges?Check out this conversation between translators Bernard Banoun and Adrian Nathan West discussing the ins and outs of translating Josef Winkler at The Quarterly Conversation.
“Sometimes I’ll be working on a piece and I’ll hear a piece of music and think, ‘That’s what this piece is,’ and it’ll come to me that way. Sometimes I’ll be working on a piece at the piano and think, ‘I want to paint that piece.’ It’s not really just one approach to getting there.”
“A man in hell surprises even himself.”
Silence is now a luxury product. “The fiercely defended philosophy of the quiet car is spreading.”
For more of this morning’s roundup, click here.
Pictured: William Hogarth’s The Enraged Musician.
And in every hand, smartphones made footage
of their bodies,
the heaps and twists of metal.
The smoke uploaded the wreckage
to the screenlike sky
where it goes on burning forever—
you will never know if dying is like that,
the same scenes repeated across a larger mind
—Kevin Prufer, from “How He Loved Them.”
Photography: Melissa Catanese.