Athens. 2006. It’s hot. The Acropolis on its hilltop is floating above the city on a shimmer of heat. But here on the hotel balcony I’m cool. I’m reading The Rake. Everyone who reads The Rake is cool!
Author: rakemag
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NYC Poetry Slam
The Rake & supplement in front of CBs Gallery and one of the whole group in front of the Bowery Poetry Club across the street of CBGBs.
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KIERAN'S LETTER OF THE MONTH: Open Minds
As an American Muslim, I think it was an ingenious idea to go to and report—very generously—on the closely confined Saudi Arabia [“Postcards from Saudi Arabia,” December]. For Peter Schilling to penetrate Saudi and report on it firsthand is absolutely honorable, since the Saudi government obstructs others (including many Muslims) from coming into its country to learn, live, or understand what Saudi Arabia is. What is admirable is that someone, against many odds, decided to report on a culture that many western governments try very hard to thrash, demean, and typify as close-minded and backward. Oh, not to mention a terrorist-breeding nation. Mr. Schilling’s report proves to many wary and cynical people that Muslims are generous—“unexpected generosity” took Mr. Schilling by storm! And although “unexpected,” Muslims the world over are just that. Failure to reach out to the rest of the world is what barricades most Westerners from realizing what is actually out there and real. It’s exactly why people such as “Fearful Jim” exist the world over, wary of Muslims and who they really are.
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Closed Doors
CLOSED DOORS
After reading the cover story “Postcards from Saudi Arabia,” I am so thrilled for Peter Schilling that he experienced such wonderful hospitality while visiting the desert kingdom. Luckily for him, he didn’t get caught in a homosexual act, which is punishable by death in Saudi Arabia (public beheading and stoning are two popular methods). He was also fortunate to have been able to drink bootleg liquor in the confines of a protected compound—had he imbibed anywhere else in the country, he might have ended up being publicly flogged. Ditto or worse if Mr. Schilling had criticized the Saudi government, which could lead to a long torture session in a prison for dissidents. Had he shoplifted, he would have had his hand amputated, sans anesthesia. Mr. Schilling is especially lucky that he’s not Jewish, as Jews are not allowed to enter Saudi Arabia, period. It’s also a good thing his wife didn’t try to drive, as women are forbidden to. I shudder to think what would have happened had Mr. Schilling tried to practice any religion but Islam. Schilling also failed to mention the alarming numbers of victims of human trafficking in Saudi Arabia, where male-chauvinistic laws allow men to repeatedly rape and abuse women, with no fear of reprisal. What a nice vacation spot: a thoroughly repressive, hateful, misogynistic, homophobic, bigoted country with one of the world’s worst human rights records, which also happens to export much of the world’s terrorism through its support of radical Wahhabist Islam. I’ll have to visit someday—oh, wait, that’s right, they don’t let Jews in. -
More Generous Than Grateful
MORE GENEROUS THAN GRATEFUL
Maybe it’s just me, but your series of “Giving and Getting” articles [December, 2006] seem much more weighted to the giving aspect. Even in “Rules of the Game,” which starts with “Giving and Getting,” and seems like it’s going to cover both topics equally, giving is placed before getting. All Penny Winton says about getting is, “Giving comes first. You can’t go out and try to get without giving.” In the other pieces, any discussion of receiving gifts focuses on lousy gifts. For every action of giving, there is necessarily a recipient. Nathan Dungan’s family and friends bemoaned the culture of consumerism and came up with the solution of share checks. Great idea, but still told from the standpoint of the givers. I would have loved to have read one of the letters Dungan had received from a recipient of a share check. And what did Mary Lucia’s sibling do with that gorilla suit, anyway? -
from Washington, D.C. { Changing of the Garb
Riding home recently on the Metro, I spotted an ad for a bank at the Foggy Bottom station that read, “Remember when there were no oversight committees? That train has left the station.” There have been, of course, a lot of leave-takings in Washington in the wake of the November elections. Last month—December 8, to be precise, the last day of work for the 109th Congressional Republicans ousted in the November elections—there were no fewer than three “For Sale” signs posted along the short route between the Metro’s Dupont Circle stop and my own place. Untold numbers of apartments had gone up for lease again, and moving vans seemed to be parked on every other block.
Studies, polls, and D.C.-based think tanks don’t bother to address getting and spending among politicians and the legions who service them—whether as a reflection of personal style and taste or as the usual quid pro quo arrangements for which Washington is known. But food, clothing, hairdos, and literature have always been associated with leadership style. Remember Reagan’s JellyBelly obsession? The news flashes over Clinton’s fast-food choices, followed by his salad days? When Bush II took office GOP Pork Rinds got heavily marketed in D.C. and at conventions, barbecues surged in popularity, and people dusted off the cowboy boots shelved when Reagan left office.
So with this latest shift in power comes yet another round in the dance D.C. does every few years, changing not just partners, but opinions about appropriate personal style. Things have moved beyond boxers vs. briefs, as I learned over drinks at the Reliable Source, the bar at the National Press Club, from former and current State Department employees, an aging reporter, an international aid worker, and a couple of Georgetown professors. For instance, natural lipstick shades are replacing more garish hues like Tangerine Burst. And blonde—that was so 109th. Going to the salon for a few low-lights now becomes an act of political defiance for D.C. women, they said (and so tinting eyebrows a shade or two darker is, I gathered, almost revolutionary). But while laced shoes are replacing tasseled loafers, on the whole, Democrats—at least lately—seem less concerned with their wardrobes, considering how worn their khakis and tweeds are. Digital accessories, too, matter little unless they’re wired: In D.C. it’s far more common to watch commuters knocking down emails on BlackBerries than it is to see them fiddling with iPods.
Then there are the new twists on book-browsing in the nation’s capital. Books are personal purchases and possessions for anyone, but what Washington reads influences how Washington leads or bleeds. Erstwhile Special Prosecutor Kenneth Starr knew this. It’s what led to his subpoena of Kramerbooks’ sales records in 1998, when he was sniffing out the personal affairs of Monica Lewinsky. Kramerbooks has been a socio-political force in this city since the end of World War II, when the Capital’s interest in books helped inform how politics, economics, and geopolitical studies could aid in rebuilding nations devastated by war.
Some say a new trend along similar lines has begun. Just before Election Day—when Minnesotans elected Keith Ellison, the nation’s first Black Muslim, to Congress—Kramerbooks reported its bestseller to be Waiting ‘Til the Midnight Hour, a book about Black Power that many, not least the white liberal activists streaming into D.C. to begin their new jobs, interpret as a template for restructuring society. Other pre-election bestsellers included Barack Obama’s The Audacity of Hope; Dangerous Nation: America’s Place in the World from its Earliest Days to the Dawn of the 20th Century by Robert Kagan; and Tempting Faith: An Inside Story of Political Seduction, by David Kuo.
“Such trends are nothing new,” said Mitch Brown, the general manager of Kramerbooks, of the recent spate of political titles. “Some of it’s angry, some of it’s bitter. Most of it is similar to what we saw getting published eight or nine years ago. The only difference is that the attacks flip back and forth between parties based on who’s in power here.” During the waning years of the Clinton Administration, he pointed out, popular books tackled the same kinds of “who-are-we-and-where-are-going-as-a-nation?” questions from the other side.
“And then there are always the parody books,” Brown added. “They once made fun of Bill and Monica. Today, it’s Bush’s intelligence.” It’s just a matter of weeks, or months, he said, before the next victims of the humor/parody genre emerge. -
Katherine Lanpher
For nearly twenty-five years, Katherine Lanpher was a fixture in Twin Cities journalism—first at the St. Paul Pioneer Press and then as the host of Minnesota Public Radio’s Midmorning show and “Talking Volumes” series. So when she moved to New York on February 29, 2004, to join Al Franken on his new radio station, Air America, the work was similar, but the territory she broadcast from was entirely new. She explores this sense of place and displacement in her recently published memoir, Leap Days.
Have you had any pure-Midwestern moments in New York?
The first month I lived here I made a big pot roast and invited over everyone I knew. Bill Hillsman [president of Minneapolis’ North Woods Advertising] was in town, and he brought along some typical Manhattan career woman: very sharp, very savvy, very chic. She clip-clopped into my apartment in her high-heeled boots, and there I am in an apron, dishing up pot roast. She just looked at me like, “Oh you poor little thrush.” They don’t feature many pot-roast aficionados on the front page of the New York Times’ Thursday’s Styles section.Having interviewed so many authors, what words stuck with you when you sat down to write your book?
I quote Natalie Goldberg, who wrote Writing Down the Bones and had been on my show, a lot. She said that some writers have to have their throats cut before their voice comes out—some trauma, or some change, has to happen that helps them articulate a narrative. I think that happened to me with the move to New York. I had always wanted to write and I could never quite figure it out. Then when I moved here the change was so abrupt and so stimulating that, to this day, chunks of narrative just appear in my head as I am walking down the street.How was it to shift back to writing after being on the radio for so long?
The adjustment for me was coming up with a long-form narrative; there’s a distinct difference between writing a long newspaper article and a personal essay. My problem now is that I exhale and it’s five thousand words. The other hard adjustment was that I was used to immediate gratification: Within weeks, if not hours, my writing would be in print and people would respond. In my acknowledgements for Leap Days, there is a chunky paragraph full of people I thank for reading drafts. I don’t know if I’ll need that as much for the next one.So are you writing another book? Are you still working in radio?
I’ve got ideas for a couple books and I’m working on those proposals. I am still doing radio: I’m the host of a show that starts in January for More magazine and a substitute host for the Leonard Lopate show on WNYC, the public radio station. I do a webcast for Barnes & Noble called Upstairs at the Square. I did a show at the Fitzgerald in October with Chan Poling and we’re thinking about setting it up again somewhere. I think there is a freedom that comes from not being harnessed to a daily two-hour show, so I get to do different things. -
Lone Twin
Who better to banish to our imaginary desert isle than a pair of professional travellers? Gregg Whelan and Gary Winters, the British-born performance duo that is Lone Twin, have spent the past nine years traversing the globe, making pit stops during which they craft scrappy performance-art pieces based on their journeys. They once took to the streets of Melbourne, Australia, on their bicycles, riding through the city for seven days straight and relating their experiences to audiences each night. In another instance, they spent eighteen hours criss-crossing, on foot, the various bridges spanning Norway’s Glømmer River. This month marks their first jaunt to the Twin Cities, but, sadly, the pair won’t be embarking on any marathon tours while here. Instead they’ll present Nine Years, an anthology of sorts, as part of Out There, Walker Art Center’s annual festival of alternative theater and performance. Now, about that other stop—what would they bring along to The Rake’s desert isle? Read on:
1. One ukulele, three chords, and the truth. This would count as one item, one little package of joy, which quite accurately describes the ukulele. If you’ve never played it get your hands on one right now—this is the gift that keeps on giving: small, light, great to handle, and deceptively easy to play. Plus a sound that swings between all that is lonesome and all that is righteous, in equal measure. The three chords would possibly be C, A minor, and G—both C and A minor can be played with one finger and G is really the D shape as played on the guitar, so it’s super easy. The truth would have to be your own.
2. 1976. An extremely long and hot summer in the UK, the Ramones release their first album, the Band hold their Last Waltz, and Milton Friedman wins the Nobel Prize for economics. Just a great year to have around.
3. The moment at the end of Love Story [the 1970 movie, not the Erich Segal novel] when Oliver, recently bereaved of Jenny, is embraced by his estranged father in the hospital lobby. It’s a genuinely beautiful moment. As an audience we realize the final narrative turn of the piece is hopeful as Oliver delivers the devastating line, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” It would be a constant reminder during island life that while one might have lost all that one has cared so truthfully for, life must be continued with joy.
4. A Swiss Army Knife. For its multifaceted usefulness in such circumstances.
5. Tom Hanks. Ditto item no. 4. -
Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean
Here’s a chance to get an up-close look at some incredible human chemistry. The Gaiman-McKean duo is a veritable artistic cottage industry. Between them they have worked in nearly every medium; they direct, produce, perform, sculpt, paint, blog, and, of course, draw and write. Get them some tap shoes and the rest of us can retire. Their graphic novels, comics (notably, Gaiman’s series The Sandman, for which McKean created the covers), and film collaboration (Mirrormask, 2005) are immensely popular with fantasy enthusiasts, but they’ve also cracked the mainstream with work like Gaiman’s novels American Gods and Anansi Boys and McKean’s conceptual art for the recent Harry Potter films. Besides being prolific collaborators, they’re also good friends. McKean is Gaiman’s favorite artist to work with, he explains, “because he surprises me.” 612-375-7600; www.walkerart.org
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Martin Amis
Depending on whom you want to listen to, House of Meetings is either Amis’ return to form or the newest evidence of a decade-long slide. We haven’t read it, but you do sort of know what to expect from Amis by now: He’s a sourpuss and a smarty-pants, and whether you like what he’s up to or loathe it, the man’s work is always unmistakably his. Here’s hoping the new book is an improvement on 2003’s wretched Yellow Dog.