Currently Browsing: Hannah Lamb-Vines
Fair warning: this is a critique of Greta Gerwig’s Barbie. Do you want to get swept up in the eye candy of pure-color sets and Chanel costumes, hypnotized by the scrumptious choreographed dances, moved to tears by Barbie’s (Margot Robbie) meaning-making? If so, you may want to come back and read this after you’ve watched the movie.… read more.
If you’ve been feeling as hopeless as I have lately, you need to read Sarahland, Sam Cohen’s super queer, super sparkly debut collection of short stories. I borrowed it on audiobook from Libby because the algorithms put it in a list of similar titles to Violent Bent Backwards Over the Grass (previously my favorite audiobook, readers may recall).… read more.
At a dinner party populated mostly by poets, someone asked what I’d been reading. I explained that with my new hobby (knitting) occupying my hands and eyes during my free time, I’d turned to audiobooks.
“Mostly fiction and non-fiction?” my poet friend Jacob asked. “Any poetry?”
“Mostly fantasy novels from my childhood,” I confessed.… read more.
Annie Hamilton is not for everyone. I realized this while watching the video she recently released of her live performance, Looking For Papa. The show had a sold-out run at the Jane Hotel in New York last spring, but I can only imagine the atmosphere of really being there. Instead, I air-played the Vimeo upload of Annie’s favorite performance of the run to the TV in my west-coast living room.… read more.
The first time I read We Play Ourselves by Jen Silverman – all in one day after a gloomy, rainy week of reading Russian literature for no real reason – I cried so hard I gave myself a migraine. “I’m sorry,” said a friend when I told them this. “No,” I had to correct them, “that’s a good thing.”
The book wasn’t what I expected after many months of admiring it on my nightstand.… read more.