Hemingway Between Two Wars

Ernest Hemingway on crutches while recovering in Milan, Italy, September 1918. 

The Ernest Hemingway Photograph Collection. John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum.

“None are to be found more clever than Ernie,” declared an Oak Park and River Forest High School classmate of young Ernest Hemingway who apparently agreed; he used it as his senior yearbook quote. Bright and competitive, Hemingway always knew he wanted to be a writer and at 16 published his first short story, The Judgment of Manitou, in his school’s magazine, The Tabula.

“Ernest Hemingway: Between Two Wars,” an exhibit at the Morgan Library in collaboration with the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum (which houses Hemingway’s papers), looks at the two most productive decades in the writer's life during which he published five novels, two works of non-fiction, and five short-story collections, honing his craft along the way and becoming one of the most important voices in American literature. (Full disclosure, I did my grad work on Hemingway and am a big fan.)

Broken into six sections, the exhibit contains almost 100 items including drafts, notebooks, manuscripts, first editions, photographs, and letters from friends and fellow writers like John Dos Passos, Sylvia Beach, and John Steinbeck. There are also bull fight ticket stubs, dog tags from when Hemingway was a war correspondent for Colliers during World War II, and a painting of Hemingway by Waldo Pierce modelled after a well-know photo of Balzac.

Hemingway’s 1923 passport (detail), 1923. The Ernest Hemingway Photograph Collection. John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum.

The most interesting section of the exhibit was the beginning where you see Hemingway emerging as a writer. There’s the first appearance of Nick Adams in a story written on Red Cross stationary; the passport from his early Paris days with that ridiculously handsome photo; his first book, Three Stories & Ten Poems, published by Robert McAlmon’s Contact Press; and a letter dated 20 March 1925 in which Hemingway explains his artistic credo to a displeased father: "You see I'm trying in all my stories to get the feeling of the actual life across—not to just depict life—or criticize it—but to actually make it alive."

My favourite of his novels, The Sun Also Rises, which he wrote in just nine weeks in 1926, is represented with numerous items like three of the seven French school notebooks in which he wrote the first draft. As with all of Hemingway’s drafts, you see him crossing out words and sometimes full paragraphs, always paring down. On the back cover of the third notebook, there’s a running list of how many words he had written each day before he had his first whiskey and soda.

Also fascinating are the items related to F. Scott Fitzgerald. Hemingway, who had met Fitzgerald at the Dingo Bar, showed his manuscript of The Sun Also Rises to the already successful author. Fitzgerald turned out to be a good critic, suggesting that Hemingway cut the first two chapters, thus beginning the novel with the story of Robert Cohn. The first two pages of those excised chapters are on display and show that Fitzgerald was right.

First page of autograph manuscript of A Farewell to Arms, New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1929. 

Reprinted with the permission of Simon & Schuster, Inc. Copyright © 1929 by Charles Scribner's Sons. 

Copyright renewed ©1957 by Ernest Hemingway. All rights reserved.

By 1929, Hemingway had become surer of himself as a writer and when he received nine pages of notes from Fitzgerald on A Farewell to Arms (three of which are on display), he was less open to advice. Even though on one of the pages of the typescript Fitzgerald had written “This is one of the most beautiful pages in all English literature,” at the bottom of Fitzgerald’s notes is a comment by Hemingway, “Kiss my ass—EH.” He also was not a happy with the book’s copy editor, writing in the margin of one of the galley proofs, “who buggered this up like this. EH.”

Hemingway was famously thin-skinned and quick to lash out at anyone. Furious at Irwin Shaw for including a character based on Hemingway's younger brother, Leicester, in Shaw's novel The Young Lions, Hemingway's personal copy of the book shows an annotation on one page that reads, “This is the part I will break his jaw for.”

Yet Hemingway could also be kind. When a young man, Arnold Samuelson, showed up at Hemingway's home in Key West, Florida to ask him for advice on becoming a writer, Hemingway offered him a job looking after his boat and wrote up a reading list of 16 works for Samuelson to read including classics such as War and Peace, Madame Bovary, and Wuthering Heights as well as some "modern" titles, Dubliners and The Enormous Room. “Here’s a list of books any writer should have read as a part of his education,” Hemingway told Samuelson, “. . . if you haven’t read these, you just aren’t educated.”

Ernest Hemingway revising the typescript of For Whom The Bell Tolls, Sun Valley, Idaho, November 1940.

 Robert Capa © International Center of Photography/Magnum Photos.

Regardless of his actions, Hemingway was thought highly of by many other writers like Dorothy Parker who remained a staunch supporter of Hemingway's even after he mocked her behind her back. On 30 November 1929, the New Yorker published a profile of Hemingway written by Parker titled “The Artist’s Reward.” Nervous about its reception, she sent him a draft to read, commenting in her cover letter, “part of the Artist’s Reward is having shit like this written about you.” And in this case, a very fine exhibit.

“Ernest Hemingway: Between Two Wars” is at the Morgan until January 31, 2016. For more information, visit here.

Happy Birthday, Mrs. Parker!

Today is Dorothy Parker’s birthday. Born on August 22, 1893 in Long Branch, New Jersey, she grew up to become one of the great American wits of the 20th century. A member of the famed Algonquin Round Table, this quintessential New Yorker was a poet, playwright, essayist, screenwriter, and champion of civil rights (she also loved dogs). The woman who once said “I'd like to have money. And I'd like to be a good writer. These two can come together, and I hope they will, but if that's too adorable, I'd rather have money” is one of my favourite writers and a role model. 

Birthday Celebration outside one of Dorothy Parker's former homes, 310 W 80th St. Photo by Michele.

To celebrate her birthday, I went on a walking tour of her Upper West Side haunts led by Kevin Fitzpatrick, author of multiple books of Mrs. Parker and the Round Table. During the tour we stopped at 310 W 80th Street, where she lived as a teenager, and sang “Happy Birthday” and enjoyed a specially made birthday cake by Dandy Dillinger. It was a great way to spend her birthday.

So raise a glass wherever you are and say, “Happy Birthday, Mrs. Parker!”

Wrong Words

Image from here.

Like Mrs. Parker said in this telegram to her editor, Pascal Covici, I too have a "pile of paper covered with wrong words." Loads of things to share with you dear readers, just currently lacking the ability to write them all down properly. Hopefully this will be remedied soon. Until then, be sure and follow me on instagram and twitter where I've been able to post a few small things.

Return of the Vicious Circle

"Algonquin Round Table" Al Hirschfeld

Caricaturist Al Hirschfeld was famous for his spot on black and white drawings of noted actors, writers, and other celebrities of the 20th century. “Return of the Vicious Circle,” a new installation at the Algonquin Hotel, brings together 25 Hirschfeld portraits of members of the renowned Algonquin Round Table and their friends.

I attended a preview reception and it was quite nice to walk in and see those familiar faces looking down on the people in the lobby. The whole gang's there: Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley, Irving Berlin, Alexander Woollcott, Harpo Marx, James Thurber, and Tallulah Bankhead (to name a few). And hanging proudly above the round table itself is Hirschfeld’s group portrait. Cocktails and treats were served, there were sightings of various theatre and literary folk, and the hotel was decorated for the holidays including a large gingerbread village.

"Dorothy Parker" Al Hirschfeld

The installation is up through January 9, 2015. So stop by the Algonquin to see the portraits and have a drink (or two). 

Happy Birthday, Mrs. Parker!

"Dorothy Parker behind Harold Ross' house" Florence Vandamm (1924)

Dorothy Parker was born on August 22, 1893 in Long Branch, New Jersey. She was a great American wit, writer, defender of civil rights, cocktail drinker, lover of dogs, and my longtime role model. In honour of her birthday, why not pick up a copy of The Portable Dorothy Parker or read the interview she gave to the Paris Review in 1956. And be sure to raise a glass (or two) and say, Happy Birthday, Mrs. Parker!

Time Doth Flit

"Emma Smith" Robert Doisneau (1948)

“Time doth flit; oh shit.”—Dorothy Parker

You said it, Mrs. Parker. Here we are, already half-way through August, summer almost gone, and my best laid plans for this blog have gone astray. I am blaming this solely on the fact that all I've done this summer is work—no vacations, no long weekends, no long rambles with the camera. Just work. But with things starting to settle down into a routine more or less, there should be some new tales popping up here shortly. Until then, please be patient with your tired author; there's a list a mile long of posts I want to share with you and promise to do so. Until then, please be sure and follow me on twitter and instagram where I've managed to make more routine appearances.

American Cool

"James Dean" Roy Schatt (1954)

Jazz saxophonist Lester Young is credited with popularizing the word “cool” back in the 1940s. Since then it’s become a label that often leads to hotly contested debates over exactly who deserves the moniker. Friday I headed down to Washington, DC and checked out what the National Portrait Gallery thought about the subject with their photo exhibit “American Cool.”

Gathering together images of 100 “cool” Americans, the curators used the following criteria to decide who should make their list (candidates had to fit at least three of the four): “an original artistic vision carried off with a signature style; cultural rebellion or transgression for a given generation; iconic power or instant visual recognition; and a recognized cultural legacy.” Apparently, it was so hard to choose that a "100-Alt list" was created of those who didn't make the cut (it's included at the beginning of the gallery). 

"Bessie Smith" Carl Van Vechten (1936)

"Louise Brooks" Nickolas Muray (circa 1924)

The exhibit is broken up into four sections: “The Roots of Cool: Before 1940,” “The Birth of Cool: 1940-59,” “Cool and the Counterculture: 1960-79,” and “The Legacies of Cool: 1980-Present.” Beginning with Walt Whitman and Frederick Douglass it moves through the 20th century and ends up in the present with Missy Elliott and Johnny Depp.

I was immediately drawn to “The Roots of Cool” section where I found some old friends hanging out—Louise Brooks, Dorothy Parker, Ernest Hemingway (shot by Robert Capa), and Buster Keaton among others. I agreed with their inclusion but thought Clara “It Girl” Bow should have been there as well (she's on the “100-Alt list”).

"Frank Sinatra" Herman Leonard (ca. 1956)

"Duke Ellington" William Paul Gottlieb (1946)

And so it went, room after room of mostly actors and musicians sparking either a nod of the head (Charlie Parker? Of course. Steve McQueen? So cool.) or a frown (Elvis Presley? He fits the criteria but cool? John Wayne. Um.) And here lies the problem when using the word “cool.” Regardless of the criteria, it’s almost impossible to find a general consensus because it is so personal; everyone has their own idea of who they think is cool.

"Patti Smith" Lynn Goldsmith (1976)

"Bob Dylan, Singer, New York City" Richard Avedon (1965)

What can be agreed upon is that the images in the exhibit were taken by an amazing group of photographers. In addition to the Capa image of Hemingway, there’s James Brown by Diane Arbus, Jon Stewart by Richard Avedon, Malcolm X by Henri Cartier-Bresson, Lauren Bacall by Alfred Eisenstaedt, Great Garbo by Arnold Genthe, Audrey Hepburn by Philippe Halsman, Johnny Depp by Annie Leibovitz, Deborah Harry by Robert Mapplethorpe, H. L. Mencken by Edward Jean Steichen (Mencken, seriously? Mencken was never cool), Georgia O’Keefe by Paul Strand, and James Cagney by Edward Henry Weston.

The day I went there was a lot of discussion going on in the gallery about the people in the photos: who they were, what they had achieved, and who should have been included (or not). The exhibit had sparked a dialogue among the visitors and that's cool. 

“American Cool” is on display at the National Portrait Gallery through September 7, 2014. For more information and a list of the official 100 cool people, visit here.

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I must confess that I've never been a big fan of the holiday but this year a piece I wrote, "Celebrate Valentine's Day, Dorothy Parker Style," was posted on Marie Claire's site (for a while today it was even number one on their "the list: your daily must-reads") and so I've been having a pretty lovely day. Please check it out here when you have a moment and let me know if you ended up celebrating the holiday Dorothy Parker style.

New York in the Twenties

A dear friend recently sent me a link to a 1961 episode from Walter Cronkite’s documentary series The Twentieth Century. Entitled “New York in the Twenties,” it features some amazing footage including Helen Morgan singing and George Gershwin rehearsing. There’s also a candid interview with Marc Connelly who discusses Dorothy Parker along with other members of the Algonquin Round Table. There are a few dry bits but try to watch the whole thing; it's worth it. 

Mrs. Parker's Town

The view from the Time Warner Center on a day when it was a bit warmer. Photo by Michele.

It's inevitable when you live in New York that there will be days when it feels like the city has it out for you. When this happens you get angry, ask, "What did I ever do to you?" and start wondering if maybe you should be somewhere else. But then something, like taking a walk through Central Park, will remind you why you moved here in the first place. 

Dorothy Parker explained it best in a January, 1928 piece she wrote for McCall's called "My Home Town." Here are a few excerpts.

"It is sentimental or presumptuous or too, too whimsical, according to the way you look at it, but my feeling for New York is maternal. I know it is a bad, headstrong selfish brat, and will undoubtedly let me die in the poorhouse; I know its manners are, at best, but company ones, and its ways have been picked up from no companions of my choosing; I have for it all the futile exasperation of the clinging, jealous, bewildered mother. I know it's faults, backward and forward and all around. And nobody but me is going to say anything about them while I am in the room!"

"It occurs to me that there are other towns. It occurs to me so violently that I say, at intervals, 'Very well, if New York is going to be like this, I'm going to live somewhere else.' And I do—that's the funny part of it. But then one day there comes to me the sharp picture of New York at its best, on a shiny blue-and-white Autumn day with its buildings cut diagonally in halves of light and shadow, with its straight neat avenues colored with quick throngs, like confetti in a breeze. Someone, and I wish it had been I, has said that 'Autumn is the Springtime of big cities.' I see New York at holiday time, always in the late afternoon, under a Maxfield Parish sky, with the crowds even more quick and nervous but even more good-natured, the dark groups splashed with the white of Christmas packages, the lighted holly-strung shops urging them in to buy more and more. I see it on a Spring morning, with the clothes of the women as soft and as hopeful as the pretty new leaves on a few, brave trees. I see it at night, with the low skies red with the black-flung lights of Broadway, those lights of which Chesterton—or they told me it was Chesterton—said, "What a marvelous sight for those who cannot read!" I see it in the rain, I smell the enchanting odor of wet asphalt, with the empty streets black and shining as ripe olives. I see it—by this time, I become maudlin with nostalgia—even with its gray mounds of crusted snow, its little Appalachians of ice along the pavements. So I go back. And it is always better than I thought it would be."

"London is satisfied, Paris is resigned, but New York is always hopeful. Always it believes that something good is about to come off, and it must hurry to meet it. There is excitement ever running its streets. Each day, as you go out, you feel the little nervous quiver that is yours when you sit in the theater just before the curtain rises. Other places may give you a sweet and soothing sense of level; but in New York there is always the feeling of "Something's going to happen." It isn't peace. But, you know, you do get used to peace, and so quickly. And you never get used to New York."

To read the full piece, grab a copy of The Portable Dorothy Parker.

Fall Roundup

Images (clockwise, from left): "The Misfits" Elliott Erwitt (1961); Juliette Binoche in Camille Claudel 1915; George Sanders and Ingrid Bergman in Journey to Italy; Mariza; Under the Table: A Dorothy Parker Cocktail Guide.

The fall so far has been filled with events of all sorts and as a result I haven’t had time to post about everything. So I thought I’d share some brief recaps of a few of them here.

A modern actress who I love is Juliette Binoche. She always imbues a rawness in her performances that results in more realistic characters. Her latest film is Bruno Dumont's Camille Claudel 1915, which tells the story of the first year of the great artist’s incarceration by her family in a mental institution where she stayed, even though doctors encouraged the family to bring her home, for the last 30 years of her life. Filmed on site at a real institution with actual patients, it was emotionally draining to watch. Yet Binoche was mesmerizing as usual and her portrayal stayed with me long after I left the cinema.

To celebrate the release of the Criterion Collection’s new Rossellini/Bergman box set, Casa Italiana Zerilli-Marimò at NYU hosted a special screening of the one of the films—Journey to Italy (1954)—along with a panel discussion with some scholars, and Isabella and Ingrid Rossellini. Isabella had to cancel at the last moment (she broke her hand that morning) but Ingrid was there, telling stories about when they were children including the time their father, a big animal lover, brought home a kangaroo. The film about a troubled marriage was strong and gave an up close look at life in post-war Italy.

One of the best concerts I’ve seen in a long time was a performance by Mariza, the Portuguese Fado singer, at Carnegie Hall last weekend. She was, in a word, amazing. For two hours she poured her heart out, singing traditional Fado songs as well as some new ones. Dressed in a long gown, the striking 6-foot tall singer spoke with the audience between songs, explaining the origin of the music and thanking her talented band. The audience was enthralled and was up on their feet by the end, cheering her on. She announced that she’s coming back to New York next year, and I for one can’t wait.

Under the Table: A Dorothy Parker Cocktail Guide is a new book by Kevin C. Fitzpatrick, the president of the Dorothy Parker Society, which tells the story of Mrs. Parker and her circle and the cocktails that they enjoyed. The book is great fun, and I'm looking forward to trying out some of the recipes. At the launch party for the release at the Algonquin Hotel, my friend and I sampled one of the drinks from the book, an Algonquin Cocktail (rye, vermouth, and pineapple juice), before turning to my classic go-to, the Manhattan. I think Mrs. Parker would approve.

And speaking of books, Elliott Erwitt’s Kolor is the latest from the incomparable photographer, gathering together his colour work for the first time. The International Center for Photography (ICP) held a book signing for the new publication, and I was thrilled to get to meet a man whose work I so admire. I wanted to tell him how much I loved his work and how one of the most popular posts on this blog was the one about his ICP exhibit from a few years ago but I thought that would be silly and just thanked him instead while I grinned like an idiot.

Happy Birthday, Mrs. Parker!

Happy Birthday to Dorothy Parker who was born on August 22, 1893 in Long Branch, New Jersey. Readers of this blog know that Mrs. Parker is a role model of mine (minus the drinking problem) whose work and wit I greatly admire. When I first began this blog, I wrote under the pseudonym "Mrs. Parker" in honour of the woman who continues to be an influence over here at Tales of a Madcap Heiress. To celebrate her day, why not have a cocktail in her honour (a whiskey sour or a Manhattan would be appropriate), listen to a little Jazz, and read a poem or two from The Portable Dorothy Parker. You could also listen to this recording of Tallulah Bankhead performing Mrs. Parker's "A Telephone Call" here. Go celebrate and remember what Mrs. Parker said, “I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.”  

Rainy Friday

Today is the anniversary of both Jean Harlow and Dorothy Parker's deaths (June 7, 1937 and June 7, 1967, respectively) and it's been raining buckets all day, which seems appropriate for the occasion. But rather than end the day on a sad note, let's turn our thoughts to something more pleasant. Here is Gene Kelly in the classic scene from Singing in the Rain (1952), made only more brilliant when you learn that on the first day of filming Kelly was sick with a fever but still managed to dance his heart out. So if it's raining where you are remember to "walk down the lane with a happy refrain." Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!

Mrs. Parker at Kate Spade

One of my dearest friends sent me the perfect birthday gift last week: a gold bangle from Kate Spade engraved with a quote by Dorothy Parker—"Take care of the luxuries and the necessities will take care of themselves." I absolutely love it. Everyone already knows how I feel about Mrs. Parker but I’m also a big fan of Kate Spade and on any given day can be found carrying my Kate Spade messenger bag along with my iPhone in a Kate Spade Scottie dog case. So naturally I jumped online and discovered not only bangles but bags and notebooks and phone cases as well. I want them all but think I shall settle on one phone case (“I’ve never been a millionaire but I just know I’d be darling at it.”) and the bag above. Thank you Kate Spade. Getting it right as always.

To check out all of the Dorothy Parker items, visit Kate Spade here.

Lunch Hour

"Hot Dog Stand, West St. and North Moore, Manhattan" Berenice Abbott (1936)

Lunch is a meal that most of us give little thought to other than what type of sandwich or salad we can grab. A current exhibit at the New York Public Library—“Lunch Hour NYC”—takes a look at how over the years this meal evolved to reflect the busy needs of the city's workers and residents.

At one time in our past, lunch was a meal eaten at home. Yet in New York City at the turn of the last century, with an increased focus on time efficiency, most workers could not afford that luxury. Hence the creation of the lunch hour, a fixed time during which workers could consume a quick meal, often at one of the city’s many cafeterias or company lunch rooms (an ingenious invention that ensured workers came back from their lunch break on time). Later on the power lunch would emerge, distinguishing that group who were not confined to a regimented time slot for dining. 

Prominently on display in the centre of the exhibit are the all-important food carts that have long helped to feed a hungry city. Among the foods sold on the street over the years were oysters, hot dogs, and pretzels. Did you know that pretzels once had a bad reputation? They were associated with saloons.

Workers are not the only ones to receive mention in the exhibit. A section on children discusses the creation of school lunch programs and includes a wall of lunch boxes (I actually recognized two that I had as a child).

Dorothy Parker makes an appearance. Photo: Michele.

I was happy to see Mrs. Parker make an appearance. A small wall is devoted to the Algonquin Hotel with its famed Round Table—a group of writers and artists who routinely met for lunch at the hotel in the 1920s. Mrs. Parker, one of the few women in the group, is represented with a portrait and a note to Harold Ross, editor and founder of the New Yorker, that reads “Ah, look, Harold. Isn’t it cute? Dorothy. I love you.” A menu from 1949 features one of the hotel’s most popular menu options—chicken hash with pancakes and new peas ($2.25). For those short on funds, a cup of tea ($.35) was consumed along with the free popovers and celery sticks.

A Horn & Hardart automat. Photo: Michele.

The highlight though was the section on the beloved automat. Horn & Hardart opened their first New York City automat in 1912, offering diners a variety of choices by simply dropping some nickels into a slot and opening a door to pull out their selected dish. Their popularity waned in the 1950s and the last one shut its doors in 1991.

An actual automat is in the exhibit complete with labels and working doors. For one nickel you could purchase baked beans or creamed spinach. Two nickels got you a couple of donuts, mac and cheese, or a chicken potpie. Unfortunately, opening the doors don't reveal these dishes but recipe cards are available so you can recreate the same meals at home. A nearby screen shows film and TV clips set in automats including my favourite food fight from Easy Living.

I'm not sure if New York can take total credit for the changes to our consumption of a mid-day meal but I do know that the exhibit will make you extremely hungry so make sure to eat your lunch before visiting.

“Lunch Hour NYC “ is at the main branch of the New York Public Library through February 17, 2013. For more information visit the site here.

Winter's Pretty Lousy

Summer makes me drowsy.

Autumn makes me sing.

Winter's pretty lousy,

But I hate Spring.

—Dorothy Parker

Right you are Mrs. Parker. Winter is pretty lousy (although I disagree with you about spring) and this recent blast of cold is just a reminder that next year I have to take a winter break someplace warmer. For now I'll distract myself by trying out a new camera lens tomorrow and seeing an exhibit I've been dying to go to on Sunday. Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

Happy Birthday Scott!

Today is the birthday of one my favourite writers—F. Scott Fitzgerald. Born on September 24, 1896 in Saint Paul, Minnesota, he is one of the great American writers of the 20th century. The man who often glorified the flapper in his work would, along with his wife Zelda, come to symbolize the 1920s—the era that he dubbed “the Jazz Age.”

After dropping out of Princeton and serving in the Army, he published his first novel, This Side of Paradise (1920), at the age of 24 and became an overnight success. Four more novels followed as well as countless short stories in which he chronicled the dreams and downfalls of his generation. He once said, “Show me a hero, and I'll write you a tragedy.” With the character of Jay Gatsy in The Great Gatsby (1925) he created not only the ultimate American hero but a brilliant, tragic masterpiece. 

It is often remarked that his writing appears effortless and yet he was a serious artist who worked hard to infuse his stories with a rhythm and tone that is both beautiful and uniquely Fitzgerald. 

In her poem “The Flapper,” Dorothy Parker wrote that the flapper “may render thanks to God and Scott Fitzgerald.” In fact, we should all render thanks to Fitzgerald for the amazing collection of work that he gave us. So thank you Scott and happy birthday. 

Happy Birthday Mrs. Parker!

Happy Birthday Mrs. Parker! Born August 22, 1893, in Long Branch, New Jersey, Dorothy Parker became the quintessential New Yorker and one of the great wits of her time. A favourite writer of mine, I took her name as a pseudonym when I began this blog. She is one of the reasons why I wanted to live in New York and why I write even though I agree with her when she said, "I hate writing. I love having written." I will be celebrating tonight by attending the theatre and having a cocktail or two. I think she would approve.  

Ribbon

I love Tom Gauld's brilliant depiction of Dorothy Parker as writer. Click on the image to enlarge so you can read the text. It's just one in his series "The Writer at Work." Check out the others here.

Those Dancing Days Are Gone

Carla Bruni, the wife of French President Nicolas Sarkozy, has given birth to a baby girl. The news reminds me of how much I like Carla as a singer. I have two of her albums—Quelqu'un m'a dit and No Promises. Her breathy voice and jangly guitar playing work well to create some very good pop tunes. No Promises features poems by English-speaking poets set to music. Although two of Mrs. Parker's poems appear on the album my favourite is W.B. Yeats' "Those Dancing Days are Gone." It's both catchy and lovely. If you've never heard it, you should download it now. And how great is that album cover?

So congratulations Carla. I'm going to go listen to you now to celebrate.