Author: rakemag

Early this year, the 1989 fatwa calling for Rushdie’s death, originally issued by Iran’s Ayatollah Khomeini, was reaffirmed–and it’s not just an idle threat; more than fifty people around the world have been murdered because of connections to Rushdie. Nonetheless, the author occasionally risks a public appearance such as this one, at which he’ll read from his new novel, Shalimar the Clown, a tale of hatred and extremism in Kashmir. William T. Vollman, who’s borne witness to his share of hatred and extremism, has noted that “one must congratulate Rushdie for having made artistic capital out of his own suffering, for the years he spent under police protection, hunted by zealots, have been poured into the novel in ways which ring hideously true.” 1200 Marquette Ave., Minneapolis; 612-332-3421; www.ewestminster.org/forum.asp

As a child, Galway Kinnell says, he was “shy to the point of being mutinous.” Today such a description might be applied to the adolescent writer of a brilliantly destructive computer virus. But Kinnell was born in 1927, which left him little choice but to become a poet. A highlight of his long career would have to be 1990, when his collection When One Has Lived a Long Time Alone was awarded both the Pulitzer Prize and a National Book Award. Kinnell is also prominent as an anti-war and human rights activist; his poems delve into the destructiveness of mankind toward nature and itself. “Nobody would write poetry if the world seemed perfect,” he has said, which is at least some small consolation. 1900 Nicollet Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-871-7400; www.plymouth.org

God, we hope so. At least as far as we’re concerned. This sprawling book is a random collection of observations about women and men, women without men, women chasing men, women chased by men, and men who aren’t worth the chase, unless it’s to hunt them down and exterminate them. It’s wonderfully sarcastic, beautifully reported, and engagingly told. And, even though Maureen Dowd is the most beautiful pundit you’ll ever see on Bill Maher, we love her for her brain. Really. Well, mostly.

[Editor’s note: as you might have divined, this item was written by a man; but women around here admire Dowd as well.]

The name, French slang for a fake diamond, implies gaudiness, but this new French restaurant is nothing but elegance. Chef/owner Don Saunders crafts simple dishes with sumptuous details. Even the salads dazzle: Mixed greens are dressed with a light and toasty hazelnut vinaigrette; a steak salad is mobbed by crispy fried shallots. With the inclusion of a poached egg and truffle oil, the potato-leek chowder redefines the genre. Entrees showcase ingredients rarely seen but most welcome in these parts: the Burgundy snail butter served with halibut, or the hedgehog mushrooms that provide a nest for a ribeye. The simple, windowless space is a bit spartan during lunch, but the evening brings glowing candles and well-heeled diners. 308 Hennepin Ave. E., Minneapolis; 612-436-0777; www.fugaise.com

Despite all the technological retrofitting, not to mention the recent gutting of hours and slashing of budgets, libraries remain one of our most inspiring institutions. Sometimes they even take the show on the road, as with this festival. For nearly a decade, the Friends of the St. Paul Public Library has brought together an esteemed group of national and local writers for a festival that stretches across genres and generations. This year’s lineup includes La Cucharacha cartoonist Lalo Alcaraz (see Desert Island Duffel), poet Richard Blanco, and Esmeralda Santiago, author of When I Was Puerto Rican. 651-222-3242; www.stpaul.lib.mn.us/programs/chicanolatino.html

Lucia Watson certainly feeds us well at her Uptown restaurant, but sometimes we just want to eat at home, in our own snug kitchen, wearing mismatched socks. That’s what makes her new bakery and takeout annex so brilliant: The baked goods are treat enough, but she doesn’t scrimp on the takeout menu, either. First-rate sandwiches include a killer roast beef and arugula number on whole wheat sourdough bread, and a zippy BLT with avocados on a semolina bun. Those with fancier things in mind can go for chicken pot pie, crab cakes, or a simply beautiful roast chicken. If you go early enough, you may score a beautiful crme brulee French toast or a hot and satisfying crepe filled with Nutella. Just remember, Lucia takes Mondays off, so you’ll have to cook your own dinner at least once a week. 1432 31st St. W., Minneapolis; 612-825-1572; www.lucias.com

When you think about it, the Universal Press Syndicate does have kind of a sinister ring to its name. Did you know that this outfit, which distributes most of our daily comics, flies deadline-dodging artists to its Kansas City headquarters to work out some strips–under supervision? Indeed, “they are locking me in a room to draw,” Lalo Alcaraz sheepishly told us en route to K.C. The creator of La Cucaracha admitted that this month he was even later than famed deadline scofflaw Aaron McGruder, who creates The Boondocks, and who with Alcaraz dents the overwhelming whiteness of most daily comics pages. (Alas, the Star Tribune recently replaced the often politically charged Cucaracha with 9 Chickweed Lane, a strip about ballerinas. Draw your own conclusions about our recently redesigned daily.) But it’s not like the guy is twiddling his thumbs. In addition to his daily syndicated strip, Alcaraz draws editorial cartoons, writes the satire magazine Pocho and hosts the Pocho Hour of Power radio show, and recently took on animation projects for the Telemundo network. Locked in a Syndicate office with nothing but his pens, paper, and wit (and that supervisor), it’s possible that this L.A.-based artist already felt as if he were stranded on a desert island, but we asked him to imagine a beach and some palm trees in the scenario.Here’s what he’d like to have with him:

1. My Pixies CD collection. I saw them in June in L.A., and it was a religious experience. I’ve got BBC stuff, bootlegs, all kinds of great stuff. The quality of their songs and the oddness of them is just so great. They rock.
2. An oil tanker full of Bacardi and a second one full of Coca-Cola. They could just run aground on my beach. That will keep me busy for a long time.
3. My black markers, some Bristol board, and a never-ending nine-by-twelve sketchbook. I’d have to keep drawing, to stay sane.
4. Either an electric guitar or congas. Maybe I should go for the congas, since I can’t play guitar, and I won’t have electricity. But I’ll have time to learn. I can’t play congas, either, but I have natural rhythm. Everyone in my family is either an artist or a musician, and I’m already an artist, so maybe it’s time for me to learn an instrument.
5. A lifetime supply of Mad magazines. Mad magazine inspired me… to become a jerk. The cartooning came later. English is my second language, but satire is my third. I grew up a little Mexican kid, and Mad magazine taught me amazing things about the United States. It had all these pop cultural messages from another generation. It’s like watching a Warner Bros. cartoon from the 1940s–you learn about things from the past. Mad made me realize that there was more than one way to look at things.

Lalo Alcaraz will appear at Landmark Center on November 1 as part of the Latino and Chicano Writers Festival, sponsored by the Friends of the St. Paul Library. 75 W. Fifth St. (Landmark Center), St. Paul; 651-292-3225

Therapists don’t seem overpaid at all, when you consider the parade of misery that walks through their offices every day. And watching a family squirm wretchedly through a bitter divorce has to be one of the less rewarding professional experiences. Yet, seen through the eyes of Noah Baumbach (The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou), and based on his own childhood, this pivotal moment in an imploding family history seems less dark than absurd. As two boys watch their parents take new lovers and head into divorce, they learn to assert themselves as individuals apart from the family, and against the family. 612-825-6006; www.landmarktheatres.com

Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House, written in 1879, has a long and storied production history. Fearing audience outrage, directors of some early productions ended the show with Nora peeking her head back inside the drawing room–so as to gaze playfully upon her husband Torvald after defiantly slamming out of the room. Then, in the 1980s, there was Ingmar Bergman’s stark reimagining of Nora’s domestic discontent. Now, Nora-the-Amazon meets Torvald-the-midget in a radical production, renamed DollHouse, which physically manifests the power relationship between these two. Mabou Mines is a troupe with its own storied production history as part of New York City’s avant-garde scene. 612-375-7600; www.walkerart.org

The presidential campaign of George McGovern in 1972 marked the high point–and apparently the end point–of humane idealism in American politics, and this documentary details that incredible grassroots campaign. Well, Richard Nixon won the fight, but this film captures a brief moment when people believed America could be a country the whole world could admire. With music by Bob Dylan and Elvis Costello, and interviews with Gore Vidal, Gloria Steinem, Warren Beatty, Dick Gregory, and others, McGovern finally gets the hip presentation he could have used a few years back. 10 Church St. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-627-4430; www.bellmuseum.org