Proust in cartoons

From Liana Finck, cartoonist: An Incomplete Biography of Marcel Proust (Paris Review). An excerpt:



Bonus trivia: the drooler is Madame de Cambremer, the same character whose head turns into a metronome when she listens to music.

Related reading
All OCA Proust posts (Pinboard)

[Finck writes that her work owes “a debt of information to Edmund Wilson’s biography,” but she means, of course, Edmund White’s biography. I e-mailed to let her know. Now the first panel has White’s name.]

REAL ESTATE

[Hi and Lois, September 4, 2018.]

I am always happy to see signage in the Flagstons’ world moving in the right direction, or in the left-to-right direction. REAL ESTATE sure beats ETATSE LAER, ECNARUSNI, and KCIUQ TRAM. And in Beetle Bailey’s world, NUB N’ NUR.

There is though something in today’s strip that needs fixing — in addition to the cost of housing. The colorist must have run out of paint when nearing the end of the job. Here, I have a can and a small brush.


[Hi and Lois corrected, September 4, 2018.]

Related reading
All OCA Hi and Lois posts (Pinboard)

Bundyville

From Longreads and Oregon Public Broadcasting, a seven-part podcast series, Bundyville. I knew the story in outline, sort of. But I had very little idea what lies behind it — what it means, for instance, when a politician or talk-radio host says that the Constitution is “hanging by a thread.” Highly recommended.

A joke in the traditional manner

Why is the Fonz so cool?

No spoilers. The punchline is in the comments. My daughter Rachel strongly approved of this one. I think her humormeter is broken again.

More jokes in the traditional manner
The Autobahn : Did you hear about the cow coloratura? : Did you hear about the thieving produce clerk? : Elementary school : A Golden Retriever : How did Bela Lugosi know what to expect? : How did Samuel Clemens do all his long-distance traveling? : How do amoebas communicate? : How do worms get to the supermarket? : What did the doctor tell his forgetful patient to do? : What did the plumber do when embarrassed? : What happens when a senior citizen visits a podiatrist? : What is the favorite toy of philosophers’ children? : What was the shepherd doing in the garden? : Where do amoebas golf? : Where does Paul Drake keep his hot tips? : Which member of the orchestra was best at handling money? : Why did the doctor spend his time helping injured squirrels? : Why did Oliver Hardy attempt a solo career in movies? : Why did the ophthalmologist and his wife split up? : Why does Marie Kondo never win at poker? : Why was Santa Claus wandering the East Side of Manhattan?

[“In the traditional manner”: by or à la my dad. He gets credit for all but the cow coloratura, the produce clerk, the amoebas, the worms, the toy, the shepherd, Paul Drake, the squirrel-doctor, Marie Kondo, Santa Claus, and this one. My dad was making such jokes long before anyone called them “dad jokes.”]

Pen, notebook, cursive

A.O. Scott, New York Times film critic, keeping it analog:

A few years ago, when I was struggling to finish writing a book, I decided I needed to tune out the distractions of Twitter and email and New York Times news alerts so that I could make my daily word count. I started leaving the house for a few hours with no laptop or phone — just a ballpoint pen and a 5-by-7-inch notebook, the same setup I’d been using for years to take notes in dark theaters.

It works like a dream, and now I write all my reviews that way. It also works for poems, to-do lists, phone numbers and scraps of dialogue. The only problem is my penmanship, which almost got me held back in fourth grade and has only declined in the years since. Also it’s hard to insert hyperlinks in the text.

[Maybe it’s time for cursive camp.]

Cursive camp

“I love how, at the end of the day, you see all the amazing stuff we can do with letters”: in Danbury, Connecticut, a cursive-writing camp for children. And there’ll soon be a Friday-night offering for grown-ups.

Related reading
All OCA handwriting posts (Pinboard)

Labor Day

[“Welder making boilers for a ship, Combustion Engineering Co., Chattanooga, Tenn.” Photograph by Alfred T. Palmer. June 1942. From the Library of Congress. Click for a larger view.]

Randy Weston (1926–2018)

“An esteemed pianist whose music and scholarship advanced the argument — now broadly accepted — that jazz is, at its core, an African music”: the pianist and composer Randy Weston has died at the age of ninety-two.

Here, from 1985, is Weston performing one of his best-known compositions, “Hi-Fly.” And here, from 2013, is an extended performance at the National Museum of American History.

Leaving Las Vegas

[I remembered this story the other day and thought it worth sharing here. I’ve reconstructed the dialogue. But every word is true.]

I was teaching an intro lit course in the fall, the usual twenty or so students. In the fourth week of the semester, someone new showed up. I remembered a name from the roster and asked, “Are you         ?” I asked to talk to him after class.

“It’s the fourth week of the semester,” I said, or words to that effect. “How come you haven’t been to class?” I could not have imagined what I was about to hear.

“I was in Las Vegas.”

“What were you doing in Las Vegas?”

“I was going to school.”

“But you were registered here, for this class. Have you missed all your classes here?”

“No, just this one.”

“So you’ve been going to your other classes? Why haven’t you come to this class?”

“I told you — I was in Las Vegas!”

I hadn’t yet read Infinite Jest. If I had, I would have registered the David Foster Wallace sign of baffled silence: “...”

I gave the student a syllabus and all materials that had gone out in class. He had already missed two writing assignments. An in-class writing assignment was scheduled for the next class meeting, which meant that he had to read quite a bit, right away.

As I soon learned, there was some truth to “I was in Las Vegas.” The student had transferred after attending a school in Las Vegas the previous academic year. So he had, at some point, been in Las Vegas. An athletics adviser (yes, the student was an athlete) called to assure me that he would be making up all his assignments promptly. The student must have alerted her to his sudden, unexpected difficulties. I had to alert her to the course policy: “Late writing is acceptable only if you have my approval in advance.”

As I recall, the student disappeared from the class not long after his first appearance. He never dropped, perhaps so that he could hold on to enough credit hours to remain a full-time student. I wish I could have asked him what it had been like going to school in Las Vegas.

Book clubs and the Internets

The Economist reports on book clubs and the Internets:

Surveys consistently reveal a thwarted desire among adults to read more, with work emails and mindless social-media scrolling being the main thieves of time that could otherwise be spent on a good book. Yet it is precisely these tools that are also enabling vast numbers of people to enter into dialogues, discover new writers and instigate friendships.

Elaine and I belong to a reading club that meets offline, virtually every day. Synchronous reading. Right now, Balzac’s Cousin Bette. And gosh, does Bette Fischer remind me of Avital Ronell.

As the formal study of literature continues to wane, informal reading groups will likely take on greater and greater importance. See George Steiner on “houses of reading.”