Arts Board Staff Writers tell about the stories of the books that have changed them. In this installment, Victoria Zhuang explores her relationship with John Updike's "Higher Gossip."
Jac Jemc’s recent collection of stories is the kind that qualifies for applause at intervals only. The title, “A Different Bed Every Time,” is perhaps too appropriate for its own good.
Absence, omission, and forgetting turn out to be the true center of the book; there is no external destination to be striven for, no climax and ending to be buttoned on this tale.
Nearly 400 attendees crowded into the Radcliffe Institute’s Knafel Center to hear Harris-Perry’s talk, given as this year’s Maurine and Robert Rothschild Lecture.
Director Michael Cuesta's "Kill the Messenger" tells the true story of how American journalist Gary Webb (Jeremy Renner) wrote an article in the 1990s exposing corruption in the US government, tasted fame, then paid for it.
To read a novel like David Bezmozgis’s “The Betrayers” in this mighty age of American literary mass-production is like getting to nibble on one of those small, precious slabs of black-market chocolate in “1984.” Aha! is the feeling: here is a book that recalls what fiction can do! Its quality is concentrated in every part, not scattered about and diluted.
Yes, it is worthwhile to read this feisty little novel, which was written by Joanna Ruocco and published by an innovative women’s literature group called Dorothy, A Publishing Project. But the worth may not be in its pleasure so much as its pain.
The discovery of natural gas reserves around Cyprus raises both hope and concern regarding relations among countries in the Middle East and Europe, panelists said Thursday at the Center for European Studies.
There are a lot of dissonant notes in “The Skeleton Twins,” but at some point the film, like its troubled characters, does begin to achieve a difficult harmony. Johnson’s suggests how, by sharing our burdens in mutual sympathy and good humor, we just may have the chance to keep each other afloat.
Reading “The Secret Place” is like living adolescence all over again: tumbling down a hole into adulthood, awakening to a world terrifically distorted yet recognizable, feeling misunderstood by everyone and desperate to please.
For Hilliard, who has backgrounds in theater and film, photography has a “magic” related to but unique from that of cinema and stage. His paneled photographs, which show glimpses of human scenes in progress, feel like a spectacle unfolding at the viewer’s pace.
Paintings, antique furniture, literature: in Donna Tartt’s latest novel, “The Goldfinch,” the believability of these art objects invariably surpasses that of the human characters. Tartt’s title “character” is not a fictional person but rather a 17th century Dutch trompe l’oeil painting of the same name.
Since the arrival of artistic director Diane M. Paulus ’88, the ART has been developing a new identity for itself on several fronts, including increased ties to New York, opportunities for Harvard students to assist large productions, and devotion to spreading participation in making theater.
So much of our fascination has been with the reputation, not the person, of this infamous queen. But the play “Marie-Antoinette, In Her Own Words,” which ran until Oct. 20 at the Modern Theatre, attempted to give us just the real person.
The words of Lucie Brock-Broido’s poetry collection “Stay, Illusion” shift enticingly in and out of clarity, reminiscent of the way that the illusions of the past haunt us even as they yield to the immediacy of life in the present.