"Would you remind me to read your blog?" she asked when we talked a couple of weeks ago.
"You should subscribe," I said. "I don't post every day, and my posts are usually quite short."
Ha.
I didn't know then I'd be marooned in the suburbs of Baltimore for such a stretch. But I'm needed here for longer than I'd planned, and I am going to be blogging like a maniac unless someone builds a sidewalk from this mobile home park to the nearest Starbucks. Walking on the road with traffic whizzing by, up to my ankles in weeds and a stand of timber edging the road, I could be hit by a deer or a Chevy Suburban. My evening inventory of lawn ornaments and figuring out which trailer I would choose as my Maryland fantasy home keeps me entertained for an hour or so after dinner, but I need conversation about books and the theatre, too. And it just so happens that I brought a stack of New Yorkers. I'm pretty certain I would bore my family silly with talk about either one.
Here's what captured me today: (sorry, it seems I can't post links from my iPad) "Mouth to Mouth --Sarah Ruhl on attraction and artifice" by John Lahr from the week of May 30th. Lahr reports this from a conversation with Ruhl: "Lightness isn't stupidity. It's actually a philosophical and aesthetic viewpoint, deeply serious, and has a kind of wisdom--stepping back to be able to laugh at the horrible things even as you're experiencing them."
And here's this bit Lahr quotes from her new play, which is called "Stage Kiss,":
"Marriage is about repetition," Harry says to his wife in the finale. "Every night the sun goes down and the moon comes up and you have another chance to be good. Romance is not about repetition."
He also says, "Once a week I can be whoever you want me to be, and you can be whoever I want you to be. Kiss me in a place with no history and no furniture."
Of course because I haven't seen the play, this could be horribly out of context. I just know that Sarah Ruhl's "Euridicye" was, for me, one of the high points of a dozen years of New York theater going.
And I know that I seem to have found some amazing convergence of romance and repetition--though I am intrigued about this business of kissing in a place with no history and no furniture.
2 comments:
What fun -- I hope you'll continue to write maniacally about New Yorker stuff. I'll follow along in my own stack.
Ditto. It will make me feel less guilty to see them in that dangerous Pisa like tower growing both steadily and dangerously prone to defy gravity while I spend my free time reading blogs and celebrating your victory, one so long awaited for. Congratulations and a new beach would do it for me, new place, no furniture. It could become a code for romance, ne?
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