The Imitation Game, the new film about the mathematician and codebreaker Alan Turning, seems determined to suggest maximum tension between him and a blinkered society. But this completely destroys any coherent telling of what Turing and his colleagues were trying to do.
We all read from different places, different backgrounds, and my meeting with Proust or Woolf, or Lydia Davis or J. M. Coetzee, will not be yours, nor should it be. On the other hand I do believe reading is an active skill, an art even, certainly not a question of passive absorption. Borges would often remark that he was first and foremost a professional reader, not a writer, and he meant the claim as a boast, not a confession; certainly his wonderful essays on other writers, the fruits of that reading, are at least as fine an achievement as his stories. So if reading is a skill, there must be techniques and tools that everyone can use or try, even if we use them differently.
Contrary to Martin Filler’s assertion that virtually nothing remains of the previous painting at Chartres, beneath the grime not one, but two layers of false masonry were visible, one dating to the thirteenth, the other to the fifteenth century. If there is anything controversial, it lies with the restorers’ decision to use the thirteenth-century false masonry as their guide.
The decision of a Staten Island grand jury not to indict NYPD officer Daniel Pantaleo for the death of Eric Garner has thrust the city into the center of a rapidly intensifying national debate. Many New Yorkers seem to be just becoming aware of the fact that a huge number of their fellow citizens live daily in a state of high alert, if not outright fear of the police and have been doing so for decades.
Over the last few years, a growing number of world leaders, under pressure from China, have spurned or downgraded meetings with the Dalai Lama. But the Tibetan leader has a long history of meeting with the head of the Catholic Church. Why has Pope Francis snubbed him?
Apparently with the full support of the French state, restorers have set out to do no less than repaint the entire interior of Chartres Cathedral in bright whites and garish colors. Looking upward we saw panels of blue faux marbre; nearby were floor-to-ceiling piers covered in glossy yellow trompe l’oeil marbling, like some funeral parlor in Little Italy.
To judge from images distributed by the Islamic State, the Syrian city of Raqqa, its “capital,” is an extremist hotbed whose inhabitants crave radical Islam, enjoy public executions, and fervently support their ruthless black-clad overlords. Yet there is little about this provincial center that might have suggested jihadist tendencies. In fact, Raqqa did not even enter the Syrian conflict until 2013.
It was only partly a coincidence that my students have been reading two essays about trials, when so much national attention was focused on the Michael Brown and Eric Garner grand jury decisions. I wondered how different things would be if a writer of Rebecca West’s or William Finnegan’s stature had been present to tell us what exactly transpired during the deliberations in both cases.
Jews are famously scattered around the world. So, it seems in recent years, are Jewish museums: in Paris, Rome, Vienna, Berlin, as well as cities from Dnipropetrovsk to Shanghai, Caracas to Casablanca. Yet Warsaw—capital of the nation that once held more Jews than any other—was conspicuously absent from the list, until a few weeks ago.
We have too much respect for the printed word, too little awareness of the power words hold over us. We allow worlds to be conjured up for us with very little concern for the implications. We overlook glaring incongruities. Learning to read with pens in our hands would bring huge benefits.