inspeier:

Ended up reading the prose of Paul Celan during flight delay. This is my favorite so far: So Many Constellations 
In NYtimes review (A LOVE AFFAIR WITH SILENCE) of Collected Prose by Paul Celan, what’s said about the translator (from German > English) is equally poetic: “Her English (now her working language) has an idiomatic adroitness that catches the pauses and suspensions in Celan’s breath - his prose often seems breathed rather than thought into place.”

inspeier:

Ended up reading the prose of Paul Celan during flight delay. This is my favorite so far: So Many Constellations 

In NYtimes review (A LOVE AFFAIR WITH SILENCE) of Collected Prose by Paul Celan, what’s said about the translator (from German > English) is equally poetic: “Her English (now her working language) has an idiomatic adroitness that catches the pauses and suspensions in Celan’s breath - his prose often seems breathed rather than thought into place.”

(via lifeinpoetry)

Amy Poehler, then new to “Saturday Night Live,” was engaging in some loud and unladylike vulgarity in the writers’ room when the show’s then-star Jimmy Fallon jokingly told her to cut it out, saying, “It’s not cute! I don’t like it!” In Fey’s retelling, Poehler “went black in the eyes for a second, and wheeled around on him,” forcefully informing him: “I don’t fucking care if you like it.”

In serving as an effigy of everything that must burn, the witch takes on a dizzying number of meanings: She is action at a distance and she is an addict; she is ambition or enchantment but also incantation and melancholic attachment; she is both a Mercedes Elegance and artisanal production. She is beauty itself, and she is left over. She is resourceful, cunning, practical, and she stands for excess, obscenity, and repetition compulsion. She is female friendship and solidarity, but also inscrutable solitude, banishment, and exile. She is a succubus but a withered crone. She is such a woman that she isn’t.