Last fall I decided that I wanted to watch every movie nominated for the 2019 Academy Awards’ Best Picture category. I made a list based on critics’ predictions. Most of the movies on my list were, indeed, nominated, with two exceptions: Can You Ever Forgive Me? (which is well worth seeing) and If Beale Street Could Talk. (Once the nominations came out, I also had to add two films to my list: Vice and Bohemian Rhapsody.)
Despite critical acclaim and the fact that it was directed by Barry Jenkins, whose movie Moonlight won Best Picture a couple of years ago, If Beale Street Could Talkbombed at the box office. And that’s a shame, because the critics were right: Beale Street is a gorgeous movie.
The movie is based on a 1974 James Baldwin novel of the same name. (I’ve added the book to my “to read” list.) The main characters, Fonny and Tish, are long-time friends who have fallen in love. After Fonny is unjustly accused of a crime, Tish discovers she is pregnant. She and her family make it their mission to get Fonny out of jail before the baby is born. The story, at least in the movie, is told out of order but is easy to follow.
Despite the sadness and tension around Fonny’s incarceration, If Beale Street Could Talk is a quiet film filled with luminous scenes of Fonny and Tish wandering through the streets of New York in a haze of love. The script, the acting, the costuming, the cinematography — all contribute to the beauty of the movie. I saw many good films last fall and winter as I tried to chase down every movie on my list, but Beale Street was hands down the best of the bunch. (Yes, better than The Favorite.)
I’m not entirely sure why Beale Street didn’t get a Best Picture nomination. Maybe people believed it was too soon to nominate another Barry Jenkins film. Maybe Annapurna Pictures didn’t spend enough on a campaign for the film during nominating season. Or maybe the nominators were uncomfortable with the film’s theme. Whatever the reason, if you haven’t seen this movie, you absolutely should. Beale Street deserves better.
Lady With a Bowl of Violets by Lilla Cabot Perry. 1910.
Eulabee Dix is not the only female artist I became aware of through the National Museum of Women in the Arts. The museum also introduced me to American Impressionist Lilla Cabot Perry. Given her lengthy career and prominence, its a shame I hadn’t heard of her before.
Perry came to painting relatively late in life. She started pursuing formal study when she was 36, although her first known painting was made when she was 29 or 30 years old. She began her studies under a portrait painter; within a few years she was receiving instruction from a number of other artists in the United States and Europe. While in Europe, she became friends with artists such as Mary Cassatt and Claude Monet. The latter was particularly influential in helping her develop her own Impressionist style.
Edith Perry at the Window. 1891. Lilla Cabot Perry was in her early 40s when she painted this.
When Perry returned to the United States in the early 1890s, she worked hard to promote Impressionism. By the time she was 49, she was on the move again, this time moving with her husband to Japan, where they lived for a few years. Her exposure to art in Japan also helped influence her developing style.
In a Japanese Garden by Lilla Cabot Perry. 1898-1901.
By the time Perry was in her late 50s, she was helping to support her family through her paintings, largely due to financial losses they had suffered. Because they sold better than landscape paintings, most of her work at this time was focused on portraits, such as Lady With a Bowl of Violets.
Perry continued to paint until her death at the age of 85. There have been a few retrospectives of her work since 1969, thirty-six years after her death, and her work has also appeared in exhibits focused on female artists. You can find her art in several museums scattered across the United States, including the National Museum of Women in the Arts and the Smithsonian American Art Museum, both in Washington, D.C.; the Hirshl & Adler Galleries in New York City; Harvard’s Fogg Art Museum in Cambridge, Massachusetts; the Terra Foundation for American Art in Chicago; and Los Angeles County Museum of Art. The Louvre also owns at least one of her paintings. (Note: Since museums rotate their art and loan paintings to other museums, her art may not be on display at any of the above museums if and when you visit.)
What female artists do you feel are underappreciated?
It’s tempting to ask, “Where have you been all my life?” but I already know the answer to that question. Until 2013, you had only one published work, a 2011 anthology of short stories
Then the floodgates opened. Since 2013 you’ve published five books in your Split Worlds urban fantasy series, four books in your Planetfall sci-fi series, and two books in your Industrial Magic steampunk series.
So you’re a relatively new and very prolific author. Still, it seems a shame that I only learned about you this year.
I heard about the Planetfall series through one of the women in my book group. Based on her recommendation, we decided to read the first book, for which the series was named.
As soon as I finished Planetfall, I started gobbling up the other books.
Your vision of the near future is believable. It’s not hard to see how in a matter of decades corporations might run governments; humans might have a small station on Mars; food, clothing and other items might be printed on 3-D printers; and most people might choose to be chipped, making cellphones and similar technology virtually obsolete. Because you looked at current trends and envisioned a future based on these trends, you built a very credible world.
I love the fact that each of your books features a different protagonist. Your characters are complex and believable. You write about their struggles with such sensitivity that I wasn’t surprised to discover you have a background in psychology.
Your plots are also masterful. In Planetfall, you drop clues, then shock us as we realize just where these clues were leading. After Atlas is completely different — a murder mystery set on Earth — and the detective’s personal story is even more surprising than what he learns during his investigation. Told through the eyes of geologist and artist Anna, Before Mars hands us a conundrum: Is Anna sane, and if she is, what exactly is going on? With its delayed messages between Anna and her family and a communications blackout, Before Mars reminded me just a little of Moon. Finally, Atlas Alone is a chilling story that would make a great discussion-starter in an ethics class. All of the books are different, all of them are good, and all contain enough surprises that I wouldn’t want to give too much away to prospective readers.
While talking with someone about the series I told them that, while each book stands on its own, they should be read in order of publication. Each book builds on what we learn about your world and its characters in the previous books. So I was intrigued to see that you proposed an alternative order that would give readers a different experience. I can see how that would work; After Atlas is key to what we read in Before Mars and Atlas Alone, so putting it first would still make for a coherent experience. Too bad I can’t go back and read the books for the first time that way to see what that reading experience would be like!
The quality of your work and the number of books you have published in the past few years make you one of my writing role models. I plan to look for your other books and look forward to seeing what else you produce in the future.
Strictly Ballroom and Muriel’s Wedding have a lot in common. Both are Australian comedies from the ’90s. Both feature a female lead who undergoes a physical transformation. In both films, actor Bill Hunter plays a key supporting role. Both movies were inspired by real life. Strictly Ballroom started out as an improvised play by Baz Luhrmann, the film’s director, based on his experience as a competitive ballroom dancer. Muriel’s Wedding director P.J. Hogan based the lead character on himself and his sister. And both films are on a list of “1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die” by Steven Schneider.
So much for their similarities. While the films have a lot in common on the surface, they are very different in terms of plot and tone.
Strictly Ballroom is a frothy, silly rom-com focused on the world of competitive ballroom dance. At first it comes across as a mockumentary, but it soon settles into a more familiar format. The movie starts out with footage of and interviews about Scott Hastings, son of two retired competitive dancers, one of whom now teaches. Scott seems to be reaching the height of his career, but then he horrifies the world of ballroom dance by resorting to his own steps during a competition.
When Scott searches for a new partner, beginner Fran asks him to try dancing with her. He agrees, despite being offended that she would dare approach him.
From there, the movie takes a relatively predictable rom-com path filled with love and obstacles that are thrown in the dancers’ paths. But it’s so utterly delicious that it doesn’t matter that it follows a traditional formula. After all, we humans frequently gravitate toward predictable story patterns, like the hero’s journey, told in new ways. Strictly Ballroom fits the bill beautifully.
Muriel’s Wedding, while also a comedy, is more serious and less predictable. It’s a powerfully feminist tale about a young woman, Muriel, whose life is a complete wreck. She’s unpopular, jobless, and obsessed with two things: Abba and weddings. After she steals money from her family and tags along on vacation with a group of women who clearly don’t like her, she bumps into an old schoolmate, Rhonda. Like Muriel, Rhonda was unpopular in school, but she’s found happiness, and in encountering her, Muriel’s life takes a turn for the better.
Featuring Toni Collette and Rachel Griffiths, Muriel’s Wedding is decidedly darker than Strictly Ballroom, making the latter movie the better choice if you’re in the mood for something light. But this movie is surprising in ways that Strictly Ballroom is not, and it packs powerful messages. While its mature themes make it unsuitable as a family film, its feminist message — that who you are is more important than who you’re with — makes it a great film for sharing with teenage girls. And despite its serious side, the film delivers its message with lots of laughs and a great Abba-filled soundtrack.
In 1979, I was watching American animation like The World’s Greatest Super Friends, which opened like this:
Fortunately, I also was being exposed to higher-quality animation in the form of the Japanese series Space Battleship Yamato or, as it was known in the United States, Star Blazers. Here’s how it opened:
Not only were the story and the animation great, but the series had really good music. In fact, it’s so good, that if you search YouTube for “Star Blazers concert” or “Space Battleship Yamato concert,” you’ll find several videos of bands and orchestras, ranging from school groups to professional ensembles, performing some of the most popular themes from the show.
That’s not to say that all anime has great music or that all American animation has terrible music. You need look no further than Steven Universe to find the jewel “Love Like You,” a beautiful jazz song that frequently accompanies the end credits.
But anime provides a treasure trove of music that stretches back for decades, like the opening theme for the 1995 show Neon Genesis Evangelion.
Part of the reason the music for anime is so good could be that anime isn’t just for kids. Anime has long targeted adults with series like Cowboy Bebop, which opens with the fabulous jazz song “Tank.”
And the artists will perform the full-length versions of their songs in concert, like this beautiful closing theme from Attack on Titan’s first season.
Excellent anime music can go beyond opening and closing themes, however. It’s clear that a lot of effort went into the soundtrack of my favorite series, Hunter x Hunter. The incidental music includes everything from references to Gustav Holst…
… to a jazzy theme for the character Leorio…
… to the screaming guitar of “Try Your Luck.”
Some of my favorite music comes from shows I’ve watched, but much of it comes from shows I’ve never seen. I’ve picked up the music mostly from what my child shares with me, though I could just as easily discover new songs by searching YouTube for “best anime music.” So while I’ve never seen Space Dandy, I agree heartily with my child that its opening theme is “a bop.”
And anime music has led me down rabbit holes to other music by particular artists: After listening to Kalafina’s “Magia,” the end-credits song for Puella Magi Madoka Magica, I ended up checking out and enjoying some of their other songs.
Now for the bad news: If you want to purchase the anime music you love, that can be difficult (in fact, even streaming the music can be a challenge). I’ve had some limited success purchasing MP3s of the original songs on Amazon, but many songs aren’t available there. I’ve successfully found Hunter x Hunter OST cds online for purchase, but not everyone wants to buy a cd, and they can be expensive and hard-to-find. You will have more luck if you’re willing to accept a cover, and there are some decent ones out there. For example, it can be nigh impossible to find an original version of “Great Days” from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure on a reputable site, but if you’re willing to accept an English cover, this version by Jonathan Young and Caleb Hyles is good (here’s the original for comparison). Not all of the links in the video work (Spotify does), but if you search Amazon’s digital music for “Great Days Jonathan Young,” you’ll find it.
I’ll leave you with one last song — another from a series I’ve never watched. Listen shamelessly. Dance along. Give in to the pull of great anime music.
I’d never heard of Jon Hassler until I moved to Minnesota. That’s a pity, because while Jon Hassler’s novels are almost exclusively about Minnesota — small-town Minnesota, to be specific — they are beautiful stories of ordinary people trying to get through life. And while Hassler wrote many good books, I don’t think he ever outdid his first novel, Staggerford.
Staggerford takes place in and around the town of Staggerford, Minnesota, between October 30 and November 7 in the mid-1970s. It focuses on 35-year-old high school English teacher Miles Pruitt, a bachelor and lapsed Catholic who lives with Agatha McGee, one of his former Catholic school teachers. A generally compliant man who tends to think more than he acts, Miles seems to exert little control over his own life; it just happens. Thus, he cherishes an old flame, Anna Thea, who didn’t marry him perhaps only because he didn’t get around to asking her.
For no good reason except that he didn’t catch her name when he was introduced to her, he insisted upon calling her Thanatopsis Hayworth, which always made her laugh. Her hair was dark with a tinge of sable in it. She sewed, skied, cooked, giggled, read books, visited the sick, loved her students, and was obviously going to make somebody a nifty wife. After dating her several times, Miles began to think about marriage; but Miles’s thoughts were generally long thoughts, and before he came to a decision Thanatopsis Hayworth married Wayne Workman, who came to town as the new high-school principal. So now she was Anna Thea Workman, though Miles still called her Thanatopsis; and to this day she taught home ec across the hall from Miles’s classroom, and Miles was still in love with her.
Despite the fact that Miles seems to be drifting through life, he does try to do the right thing. One of his senior students, Beverly Bingham, begins seeking him out. Miles sees that “she’s got brains and a certain amount of ambition, but she doesn’t know what to do next. And she comes from such an abnormal home life that she’s not sure she can make it… and all in all she’s just plain scared.” He tries to navigate her need with the dangers of her obvious crush on him and his own attraction to her.
For all that Miles tries to do right, it seems that things often go wrong. He borrows a uniform for a Halloween party and finds it irreparably damaged after someone throws up on it. He tries to get a toothache fixed and ends up with a botched dental job. He counsels Beverly and gets accused of having an inappropriate relationship with her. He breaks up a fight between students and ends up being dragged into an escalating conflict between whites and Native Americans.
True to life, Staggerford is humorous and heartbreaking — sometimes both at the same time. When Hassler describes Miles as he waits for someone to pick him up after his wisdom tooth has been removed, he writes:
He stood on the curb and took out the handkerchief to catch the string of blood that hung from his mouth. It was an elastic string without an end. In retribution to Dr. Karstenburg he took the handkerchief away from his mouth whenever a car passed and let the blood swing from his lower lip and drape itself into the gutter for all the world to see.
And just as life can throw us surprises, Staggerford contains a twist that seems to come from out of nowhere. The first time I read the book, I was so shocked that all I could think was, “Well, that’s the way life is. Sometimes things just happen out of the blue.” When I reread the book, I realized that Hassler had, in fact, engaged in some skillful and very subtle foreshadowing. I admire him all the more for not being heavy-handed about it.
There are plenty of other excellent books by Hassler. You can revisit Staggerford through A Green Journey, Dear James, The Staggerford Flood, The Staggerford Murders, and The New Woman. But if you want more Hassler after reading Staggerford, I recommend leaving that town for a while and reading The Love Hunter, Rookery Blues, or Grand Opening. All of them manage to capture a particular time and place while speaking about the timeless struggles of ordinary people.
An illustration from Winnie-the-Pooh by Ernest Shepard
Do you love illustrations but hesitate to call them art, because aside from the occasional painting by Maxfield Parrish or Howard Pyle, you usually don’t find such work in major art museums? Do you ignore the work of illustrators because you don’t believe they are “real” artists?
Too often we treat illustrators like we treat genre writers: We view them as hacks or see their work as “lesser” because it appears in books (usually children’s books) instead of museums. But a good illustrator is an artist in their own right.
If you don’t pay much attention to illustrators, I’d like to encourage you to start doing so. Here is a list of some of my favorites. I know I’ve left some great illustrators out, and I apologize for that; I simply couldn’t include everybody. But hopefully — whether you have been interested in illustrators in the past or not — you will discover new illustrators to enjoy.
I will not be parted from my copy of The Wind in the Willows with color plates by Ernest Shephard. Although other artists (particularly Michael Hague) have created excellent illustrations for this book, Shephard captured characters such as Rat, Mole, and Toad like no one else.
Clare Turlay Newberry (1903-1970)
Best known for: Her illustrations of animals, particularly cats
A few facts:
Claire Turlay Newberry wrote as well as illustrated.
You can still easily find several of her picture books, including Mittens, Marshmallow, and April’s Kittens.
Unfortunately T-Bone the Babysitter, my favorite of her books, is out of print. I highly recommend it if you can get your hands on a copy. The wild-eyed T-Bone above says everything.
Pauline Baynes (1922-2008)
Best known for: Illustrating The Chronicles of Narnia
Pauline Baynes also illustrated several of Tolkien’s books, including Smith of Wootton Major and Farmer Giles of Ham. (The book cover that illustrates my blog post about Smith of Wootton Major is not by Baynes. It’s by the Brothers Hildebrandt, featured later in this post.)
Margaret Evans Price (1888-1973)
Best known for: Being one of the co-founders of Fisher-Price.
Margaret Evans Price created designs for several Fisher-Price toys, but she was a very prolific artist outside of her design work, creating illustrations, murals, portraits, and still lifes.
Trina Schart Hyman (1939-2004)
Best known for: Her illustrations for the Caldecott-winning book, Saint George and the Dragon by Margaret Hodges
A few facts:
She was nominated for the Caldecott an additional three times.
She served as art director for Cricket magazine.
Trina Schart Hyman may well be my favorite illustrator on this list, simply because her illustrations infused my childhood reading. The world lost her too soon, but she accomplished an amazing amount during her lifetime.
Gustaf Tenggren (1896-1970)
Best known for: Serving as chief illustrator for Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, as well as working on Bambi, Pinocchio, and other Disney productions.
Gustaf Tenggren is also well-known for several Little Golden Books, including The Poky Little Puppy, The Shy Little Kitten, The Saggy Baggy Elephant, and The Tawny Scrawny Lion.
Richard Scarry (1919-1994)
Best known for: His many books about Busytown, featuring characters such as Huckle Cat and Lowly Worm
Although Richard Scarry could certainly draw a better bear than I can, I love him more for the details in his drawing rather than the quality of his art. I’m sure I spent hours as a child getting lost in Busytown.
Garth Williams (1912-1996)
Best known for: His illustrations for children’s classics such as the original eight Little House books, Charlotte’s Web, The Cricket in Times Square, and many other books
Like all of the best illustrators, Garth Williams’ illustrations have become an essential part of the books they appear in. I can’t imagine Little House in the Big Woods without them.
Arthur Rackham’s illustrations are classics. Along with Sir John Tenniel, Rackham created some of the best known illustrations for Alice in Wonderland. He also illustrated several fairy tales and books.
Elenore Abbott (1875-1935)
Best known for: Her illustrations for Grimm’s Fairy Tales
A few facts:
Elenore Abbott studied under famous illustrator Howard Pyle.
She was an early member of The Plastic Club, originally an arts organization for women.
Tasha Tudor (1915-2008)
Best known for: The books she wrote and illustrated, including Corgiville Fair
A few facts:
Tasha Tudor illustrated children’s classics such as A Child’s Garden of Verses, The Secret Garden, and Little Women.
Best known for: His Caldecott-winning book, The Snowy Day
A few facts:
Ezra Jack Keats is one of two white illustrators in this list who embraced diversity in their illustrations, because they believed it was the right thing to do (the other is Trina Schart Hyman).
He frequently used collage to create his illustrations.
My earliest library memory is of paging through some of Keats’ books in my first elementary school’s library. I loved the bright pictures in The Snowy Day, Whistle for Willie, and Peter’s Chair.
Ingri (1904-1980) and Edgar Parin D’Aulaire (1898-1986)
Best known for: Their Caldecott-winning book, Abraham Lincoln
Ingri and Edgar Parin D’Aulaire were a Caldecott-winning couple who wrote and illustrated several books together, including Abraham Lincoln, Norse Gods and Giants, and d’Aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths. The latter two books are two of my favorite books of mythology.
Maxfield Parrish (1870-1966)
Best known for: His color-saturated art
Among the books Maxfield Parrish illustrated are A Child’s Garden of Verses, Arabian Nights, and A Wonder Book and Tanglewood Tales. You’ll find lots of references to his work in pop culture, including the video for Enya’s “Caribbean Blue.”
Beatrix Potter (1866-1943)
Best known for: Her children’s books about anthropomorphic animals
Never read any of Beatrix Potter’s work beyond The Tale of Peter Rabbit? I highly recommend The Tale of Two Bad Mice.
Edmund Dulac (1882-1953)
Best known for: His fairy tale illustrations, including “Sleeping Beauty” and “The Little Mermaid”
A few facts:
Besides his fairy tale illustrations, Edmund Dulac illustrated several books, including Jane Eyre and The Tempest.
Dulac also designed British postage stamps.
Greg (b. 1939) and Tim Hildebrandt (1939-2006)
Best known for: The Lord of the Rings calendar illustrations
A few facts:
Known as the Brothers Hildebrandt.
Like the d’Aulaires, the Hildebrandts did most of their work collaboratively.
My favorite moment related to the art of the Brothers Hildebrandt was when I brought my mom’s original copy of The Sword of Shannara, with one color plate and several black-and-white illustrations by the brothers, to a book-signing by Terry Brooks. The author flipped straight to the color plate and raised his eyebrows.
Jerry Pinkney (b. 1939)
Best known for: His Caldecott-winning book, The Lion and the Mouse
Jerry Pinkney has illustrated more than 100 books, including several folk and fairy tales as well as classics like Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry; Gulliver’s Travels; and The Jungle Book.
Although I enjoy classic literature, I’m not a big fan of Thomas Hardy… except for his novel Far From the Madding Crowd. With its feminist heroine, Bathsheba Everdene, and cheerier outlook than I generally expect from Hardy, Far From the Madding Crowd is a good read. Fortunes rise and fall, people fall in love, hearts are broken, and through it all the fiercely independent Bathsheba works to prove herself as a female farmer.
Like many classics, Far From the Madding Crowd has been retold in film more than once. It is the most recent version, released in 2015, that I’m endorsing here. I highly recommend the book, but whether or not you decide to read it, the movie is well worth watching.
Watch It Because It Is Faithful to the Book
I confess I’m one of those purists who get upset when movies are untrue to the books on which they’re based. If I’m being honest, sometimes it’s for the best. I really think the MGM version of The Wizard of Oz works better as a movie than a faithful retelling of L. Frank Baum’s book would. And while I voiced an offended “Hey! Frodo never went to Osgiliath!” while watching Peter Jackson’s The Two Towers, the fact is that it in no way diminishes a cinematic masterpiece. On the other hand, Jackson’s trilogy The Hobbit… don’t get me started. At least he made a great choice casting Martin Freeman as Bilbo Baggins.
The 2015 version of Far From the Madding Crowd by no means perfectly follows the book. (Are there any films based on books that manage to do that?) But it is a very faithful retelling of the original story. Whether you know and love the book or plan never to read it at all, you’ll be treated to a movie that is very much like Hardy’s story. Snob that I am, I consider that a plus.
Watch It Because It Has a Wonderful Soundtrack
Composer Craig Armstrong created a score that suits the movie perfectly. Armstrong’s original music is beautiful, but the highlight is his version of the folk song “Let No Man Steal Your Thyme.”
Watch It Because It’s Beautiful
Far From the Madding Crowd is cinematic eye candy. The cinematography and the costumes are gorgeous, and Carey Mulligan is well-cast as the beautiful Miss Everdene.
Watch It Because It’s a Good Story
As I mentioned at the outset, I love Far From the Madding Crowd because in it, Hardy spins a good yarn. People make good and bad decisions; they fall in love and get hurt; they suffer misfortune and benefit from strokes of good luck. Hardy neither downplays the harsh realities of life nor offers the bleak outlook that you can find in many of his other novels. There are plenty of reasons to watch a movie, but in the end, a good story is the best reason of all.
In 2017, National Public Radio pulled together a list of the 150 greatest albums by women since 1964, according to 50 women who work in public radio. The list incorporates a range of music, including jazz, pop, rock, folk, bluegrass, Tejano, hip-hop and more, from The Ronettes to Beyoncé. NPR’s intent was to offer the list as “an intervention, a remedy, a correction of the historical record and hopefully the start of a new conversation.”
I recently made my way through the list and was delighted with what I discovered. Of course, there were albums on the list I knew well. For example, I was pleased (though not surprised) to see that Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love was included among these “greatest albums”.
But there were plenty of unfamiliar albums on the list. Sometimes I’d heard of the artist but had never listened to their music, such as Bjork, whose album Post made the list.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BeAZ9DQZFz8
Other artists were completely new to me, such as Pauline Oliveros, whose album Deep Listening is now on my wishlist.
And how is that I don’t remember hearing about jazz musician Alice Coltrane earlier in my life? I’m thankful to NPR for including her on the list.
Wisely, the list is not confined to English-speaking countries. It includes women such as Mercedes Sosa, Oumu Sangare and Ofra Haza.
200 Great Songs by Women+
While not everything will be your cup of tea, those 150 albums alone will give you many hours of listening pleasure and musical discoveries. But NPR decided to follow up the list the following year with a new Turning the Tables project: a list of the 200 best songs of the 21st century by women and non-binary artists.
Again, the list includes well-known songs, perhaps none more well-known than Idina Menzel’s “Let It Go.” (I confess I skipped listening to that. I could never hear it again for the rest of my life and be just fine.) And, because the “greatest albums” list issued in 2017 would naturally include some of the greatest songs of this century, there was some duplication between the lists. Norah Jones, Solange, and Against Me! are just a few of the artists who have songs on the top 200 list from albums on the top 150 list.
Again, the list is broad, spanning a variety of genres from artists around the world. If anything, the list is broader, including several classical tracks, such as “Flowers” from Julia Wolfe’s Anthracite Fields.
There’s even “kawaii metal” (please stay with me… it’s much better than it sounds), represented by Babymetal’s “Gimme Chocolate!!”
There’s plenty of room for arguing with both of these lists. (No Amanda Palmer among the top 200 songs of this century? What were they thinking?) But if you are a music lover and have not yet explored NPR’s Turning the Tables project, especially these two lists, you owe it yourself to dive in. You almost certainly will discover some new favorite artists, albums, and songs.
Many people, myself included, were dismayed when we learned that the Cathedral of Notre Dame was burning. Even reading the words of medievalist Dr. Jennifer Awes Freeman, who wrote “church buildings… are not static things,” was not completely comforting. (Full disclosure: I work with Jennifer.) When we love something — even something we haven’t seen — we often want to preserve it. Yes, things change, but we don’t always find that truth easy to swallow.
However, Jennifer’s response to the fire reminded me of a book I’d been meaning to share here: The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. This 983-page historical novel spans a period of about fifty years… and much of the action revolves around a cathedral.
In the simplest terms (I’m leaving out a lot by summarizing things this way), the book tells the stories of Tom Builder, his family, and Prior Philip, Tom’s employer and the adoptive father of his youngest child.
When we first meet Tom, he is traveling with his two children and pregnant wife, searching for work. While Tom wants to provide for his family, he also yearns for a specific sort of work: He wants to build a cathedral. When the cathedral at Kingsbridge burns down, Tom gets his chance.
There’s a lot to love about this book, but what I enjoyed most were the ways in which many of the characters pursue satisfying work. Philip is determined to reform and improve Kingsbridge Priory. A character named Aliena becomes a successful wool merchant as she tries to support her brother. And Tom dedicates his life to building a cathedral.
[Tom’s wife, Agnes,] could not comprehend the irresistible attraction of building a cathedral: the absorbing complexity of organization, the intellectual challenge of the calculations, the sheer size of the walls, and the breathtaking beauty and grandeur of the finished building. Once he had tasted that wine, Tom was never satisfied with anything less.
I’m hardly the only person who has loved The Pillars of the Earth. The book has inspired a television miniseries, three board games, a video game, and even a musical.
Follett has written two sequels to The Pillars of the Earth, neither of which I’ve read. But you don’t need to worry that starting this hefty book will commit you to the series. This story of love and ambition in medieval England stands well on its own.
