Articles

  • 6 days ago | thelampmagazine.com | J. Vance |Joseph Epstein |Jude Russo |Paul Griffiths

    In the blue afternoon the bird appeared, perched on a high roof in the capital of the world. It was a seagull, dancing in the sun. Perhaps it felt lonely, for it was soon joined by its mate and their hungry offspring. Indifferent to the cheers below them in the ruined circus and to the old men who lurked in the gilded ossuary chattering and marking bits of paper destined for oblivion, the mother spat out the corpse of a rodent, which the chick happily devoured.

  • 6 days ago | thelampmagazine.com | J. Vance |Joseph Epstein |Jude Russo |Paul Griffiths

    America has finally joined the ranks of great Western civilizations and produced a pope, along with the Italians, the French, the Germans, the Greeks, the Dutch, the Jews, and, somewhat inexplicably, the Poles.

  • Dec 6, 2024 | theotherjournal.com | Kait Dugan |Paul Griffiths

    Picture longing for an inaccessible, distant place. Call that longing farsickness. It is in form the same as homesickness, but it lacks the emphasis on memory. The homesick are exiles who remember somewhere they once were and would like to return to. They include Ovid at the Black Sea, Genji in Suma, and Vladimir Nabokov wandering the USA. They are nostalgic for paradise lost. They look back. The farsick differ only in being anticipatory rather than nostalgic.

  • Nov 22, 2024 | catholicoutlook.org | Paul Griffiths

    Bodies without souls aren’t persons, but neither are souls without bodies. he Christian account of human death is a story of bodies and souls. Bodies are given the lives they have by their souls. Their souls are their lives, what animates them. Bodies, however, are mortal, and eventually die, resolving into corpses. When a body dies, its soul separates from it and continues to live, but now in discarnate form, without a body. Souls cannot die: they are immortal.

  • Nov 13, 2024 | the-tls.co.uk | Paul Griffiths |Harrison Stetler |Anna Aslanyan |Amber Massie-Blomfield

    Fantasy, folly and frolic: those tutelary deities of Offenbach’s operettas did not quit the scene when he turned to the heavier material of The Tales of Hoffmann. They stuck around to oversee atmospheres of irony and unlikelihood, as well as the occasional romping tune. Productions tend to make physical room for all these in the background, in crazy sets and choral shenanigans.

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