
James Como
Articles
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Jan 13, 2025 |
theimaginativeconservative.org | James Como
Some people frolic in the European Middle Age, whereas most people hearing that designation think hair loss and weight gain. And that is too bad, because there and then resided Geoffrey Chaucer, the second greatest poet in English. If only the selective reading public knew better, they would be dazzled by his masterwork, The Book of Troilus (mid-1480s, prior to The Canterbury Tales). Moreover, we have been put on notice of its greatness, not only more than once but once again.
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Jan 12, 2025 |
newcriterion.com | Sarah Ruden |David Yezzi |Anthony Daniels |James Como
When the curtain opened at the Metropolitan Opera last night, a lady behind me said, “I love this.” When it opened on Act II, a man said, “Wow.” They were so right. Onstage was La bohème, in the Zeffirelli production of 1981. The Met has staged it more than five hundred times. It is a meal ticket for the company. It is also a great production. It will go, as they all do. The Aida of Sonja Frisell, which premiered in 1988, ran for about 250 performances. It has been replaced this season.
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Jul 29, 2024 |
theimaginativeconservative.org | James Como
Often people do not know they are on a road, walking towards an as-yet uknown Place just there, where the road ends. Distractions abound, interesting and attractive allures along the way, as well as intersecting paths leading away from the road. But always on the road there are intimations of the Place, making it seem more and more like a home. If only the walker would recognize the signposts – but they are of all sorts, not the usual signposts – and heed them. I.
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Jun 23, 2024 |
theimaginativeconservative.org | James Como
A proponent of African slavery before denouncing it and repenting, a prophet who predicted the fall of the Spanish empire owing to its sinfulness, a priest, bishop, reformer ,and scholar, Father Batolomé de las Casas fought the good fight, ran the race, and kept the faith—and that until his very end.
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Jan 24, 2024 |
newcriterion.com | James Como
Nearly seventy years after being given my accordion, I’ve decided to sell it: an artifact of an American cultural period and a personal past both troubled and treasured, a relic of enduring identity and, far above all, a totem of supernal gratitude. I can no longer play it, but someone should, and I have no one to give it to as a gift.
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