Most years around this time, we ask The Times’s staff book critics what they’ll be reading over the summer. But book critics, when not reading, also spend the summer like the rest of us do: taking in movies, plays, ballets and the sun. So we’ve asked our book critics to tell us what other cultural offerings they’re looking forward to this season. And we’ve saved the “what you’re planning to read” question for The Times’s esteemed critics in other disciplines, bookish types all. Their answers are below. — John Williams, Daily Books Editor and Staff Writer
Some names tantalize even in parentheses. For years, I’d been seeing Barbara Skelton cited in books about literary London in the 20th century, and every time she was mentioned, however tangentially, I knew that she was someone I had to spend more time with. She was a tart, taut writer; a High Bohemian; and a world traveler whose lovers and husbands included King Farouk, Cyril Connolly and the publisher George Weidenfeld. By all accounts she was more than capable of holding her own with both real and intellectual royalty. Now that I am finally in possession of her two volumes of memoirs from the 1980s (which apparently spare no one, herself included), I’m preparing to settle in for one sensational gossip session. Even their titles are bliss: “Tears Before Bedtime” and “Weep No More.”Jon Caramanica, pop music critic
Worst case: I’ll glumly flip through the modern-design auction catalogs I pick up at the Strand for a couple bucks each, and lament the side tables and lamps I’ll never be able to afford.
Throughout the year, I amass a ton of books for an imagined summer “downtime” that never quite happens. A few items from near the top of this season’s stack:
“Becoming Mary Sully: Toward an American Indian Abstract,” by Philip J. Deloria. The Harvard historian writes about the self-taught Dakota Sioux artist Mary Sully (1896-1963), who was Deloria’s great-aunt and the great-granddaughter of the 19th-century painter Thomas Sully. The moment to savor her semi-abstract celebrity “portraits” (Albert Einstein, ZaSu Pitts), which combine a modernist spirit and Native American aesthetics, has arrived.
I’m reading “Watch and Ward,” Henry James’s first novel, which I’m finding very surprising. Years ago, after opening and quickly closing “The Golden Bowl,” I decided that James wasn’t for me. I’d read a few of his other novels and stories, but had never gone deep. But after enjoying “The Aspern Papers,” which I read for a movie review I was writing, I reread “Washington Square,” choosing it mostly because I love William Wyler’s 1949 film version, “The Heiress.”
I’m looking forward to catching up on theater I’m late to (“Hadestown,” “Hillary and Clinton,” “Ink”) and also eager for the director Amy Morton’s version of David Mamet’s “Glengarry Glen Ross” with an all-female cast. (“Put that coffee down! Coffee’s for closers only.”)
I used to live not far from the Warwick Drive-In Theater in Warwick, N.Y., and I still like to visit. You can feast on a drive-in hot dog and fries and a Coke or bring in your own fancy spread and a bottle of wine. It’s a lot farther away now that I live in Manhattan — nearly a two-hour drive — but summer isn’t summer without a double-feature under the stars.
Plays on the page are ghosts of themselves; the texts of musicals even more so. Still, the current revival of “Oklahoma!” makes me want to read one of each. How is it that the musical’s libretto, by Oscar Hammerstein II, is still as shocking today as it was in 1943, when it altered the course of musical theater? Was it Hammerstein’s invention, or something he borrowed from his source, “Green Grow the Lilacs,” a not-very-successful 1930 play by Lynn Riggs? Reading the two in tandem, I hope to find out where the magic is buried.
I don’t read many novels, but I love gossipy articles about people who write novels. Recently, though, I read a profile of a novelist that I enjoyed so much, it inspired me to seek out her work itself. The article was Judith Thurman’s 2017 profile of Rachel Cusk in The New Yorker, in which Cusk was so startlingly, inappropriately honest that I immediately tucked into her vaguely auto-fictional “Outline.” Cusk’s narrator, Faye, is similarly direct, but she operates with a catlike passivity that seems to turn listening into a kind of weapon. As a quiet person with a lot to say, I loved her. This summer I plan to read the next two installments in the trilogy, “Transit” and “Kudos.”
“The Vegetarian,” by Han Kang, is one of those novels — about a woman pushed to the brink by a dream-induced dietary decision — that too many people have said they’re reading right now. So now one of those people has to be me. I’ve started it. And the only reason I’ve put it down is to type to you all that I’m reading it — and just doing that has got me going through withdrawal.
New York has beautiful ruins, especially the crumbling and very picturesque abandoned smallpox hospital on Roosevelt Island that’s become a cat sanctuary of sorts. I’ll be there a lot this summer taking very slow walks with my cat-obsessed toddler, who likes to methodically inspect the talent.
There will be some beach days, too, I hope, and there are two documentaries I’m looking forward to, both out in June. “Nureyev,” directed by Jacqui Morris and David Morris, contains all kinds of previously unseen footage, including clips of Nureyev dancing in works by Martha Graham and Paul Taylor. And while Toni Morrison is perhaps our most famous living American novelist, so much about her remains enigmatic; “Toni Morrison: The Pieces I Am,” directed by Timothy Greenfield-Sanders, is supposed to be an intimate look at her life, art and activism.
Whatever the season, it’s always hard to make time for reading actual books, as opposed to exhibition catalogs and sundry magazines and newspapers. This summer, I hope to finish some books started over the winter. Ron Chernow’s biography of Ulysses S. Grant is part of my ongoing project to better understand the tragedy of the Civil War; “The Worlds of Lincoln Kirstein,” by Martin Duberman, a biography of one of the prime movers in modern art and ballet; and Mary Gabriel’s “Ninth Street Women,” which tells the lesser-known stories of some of the female painters of the New York School.
My horror-movie-watching habits are seasonal: While I hesitate to watch anything with zombies in the winter (feeling trapped indoors by the weather makes for too much verisimilitude), I’m generally game to be terrified in the summer. Jim Jarmusch’s “The Dead Don’t Die” is billed as a “zombie comedy” — the trailer makes it look more funny than scary, and the cast (including Tilda Swinton as a swordswoman-mortician) is a big draw for me. I was thinking that one of the shuffling, decaying figures looked suspiciously like Iggy Pop — and sure enough, it is.
The fifth season of “Black Mirror” is coming in June — brilliant and unsettling technological dystopia that’s so close to our present moment that I can only bear to consume a single episode at a time. I’m also looking forward to “I must create a Master Piece to pay the Rent,” the first museum survey of work by the Los Angeles artist Julie Becker, who died in 2016.
Summer vacation is a good catch-up time for books I’ve been meaning to read. In music, I look forward to the British conductor Jane Glover’s “Handel in London: The Making of a Genius,” released last year. I was delighted by her vividly written and astute 2005 book, “Mozart’s Women: His Family, His Friends, His Music.” And though I’ve read most of the novels of Theodore Dreiser, with his bleak take on social mores, class and entitlement, I somehow skipped “The Titan,” the sequel to “The Financier,” a riveting tale.B:
2017年12生肖波色图【凌】【初】【满】【脸】【写】【着】【担】【心】【的】【凑】【到】【苏】【涵】【的】【身】【边】，【而】【苏】【涵】【的】【心】【思】【却】【在】【魏】【叔】【和】【受】【了】【伤】【的】【岑】【参】【身】【上】，【在】【警】【察】【将】【魏】【叔】【带】【走】【前】【赶】【过】【去】，【请】【求】【警】【察】【同】【志】【给】【她】【几】【分】【钟】【的】【时】【间】。 【警】【察】【同】【志】【相】【互】【看】【了】【眼】，【又】【思】【量】【了】【半】【晌】【最】【终】【才】【点】【头】。 【魏】【叔】【被】【警】【察】【逮】【捕】【后】【便】【一】【直】【低】【着】【头】，【直】【到】【苏】【涵】【站】【在】【眼】【前】【魏】【叔】【才】【抬】【头】，【笑】【着】：“【你】【还】【是】【来】【了】。” 【苏】【涵】【点】【了】
“【任】【务】【完】【成】！” 【当】【这】【个】【四】【个】【字】【出】【现】【在】【余】【志】【乾】【的】【脑】【海】【之】【中】【的】【时】【候】，【余】【志】【乾】【眼】【泪】【差】【一】【点】【的】【流】【了】【下】【来】，【终】【于】，【终】【于】【完】【成】【了】【任】【务】，【该】【死】【的】【斯】【大】【林】【格】【勒】，【如】【果】【说】【什】【么】【地】【方】【会】【是】【余】【志】【乾】【最】【讨】【厌】【的】，【那】【么】【斯】【大】【林】【格】【勒】【必】【定】【是】【其】【中】【之】【一】！ 【随】【处】【可】【见】【的】【尸】【体】，【还】【有】【让】【人】【窒】【息】【的】【空】【气】，【一】【切】【的】【一】【切】，【都】【不】【是】【余】【志】【乾】【喜】【欢】【的】【东】【西】，【所】【以】【余】
【阿】【白】【已】【经】【记】【不】【得】【自】【己】【睡】【了】【多】【久】【了】，【他】【只】【记】【得】【自】【己】【醒】【过】【来】【的】【时】【候】，【就】【看】【到】【了】【自】【己】【面】【前】【趴】【着】【一】【张】【熟】【悉】【的】【脸】。 【那】【是】【他】【记】【忆】【深】【刻】【到】【了】【灵】【魂】【的】【一】【张】【脸】。 【他】【和】【阿】【时】【同】【出】【一】【源】，【曾】【经】【的】【时】【候】【也】【是】【最】【好】【的】【朋】【友】【和】【兄】【弟】，【只】【是】【不】【知】【道】【为】【什】【么】，【这】【一】【次】【醒】【来】【之】【后】，【他】【不】【想】【和】【阿】【时】【做】【兄】【弟】【了】，【他】【想】【让】【这】【个】【人】【成】【为】【他】【的】【伴】【侣】。 【说】【来】【也】【怪】
【陆】【满】【清】【的】【猜】【想】【并】【没】【有】【错】，【这】【次】【青】【柠】【卫】【视】【请】【来】【负】【责】【给】《【超】【级】【男】【声】》【的】【选】【手】【们】【做】【声】【乐】【指】【导】【的】【老】【师】，【可】【谓】【是】【花】【费】【了】【大】【心】【思】【的】，【虽】【然】【这】【些】【新】【人】【和】【圈】【外】【人】【都】【不】【知】【道】，【可】【音】【乐】【圈】【还】【是】【很】【多】【人】【都】【知】【道】【这】【一】【位】，【来】【自】【上】【音】【的】【资】【深】【音】【乐】【教】【授】，【裴】【敏】。 【裴】【敏】【是】【个】【很】【刻】【板】【的】【人】，【所】【以】【注】【定】【了】，【不】【管】【她】【的】【声】【音】【条】【件】【多】【好】，【音】【质】【多】【优】【秀】，【都】【很】【难】【在】2017年12生肖波色图【池】【渔】【来】【工】【作】【室】【报】【道】【的】【时】【候】，【郁】【锐】【哲】【也】【是】【在】【的】，【确】【切】【的】【来】【说】，【她】【是】【知】【道】【池】【渔】【要】【来】，【特】【意】【过】【来】【的】。 【对】【于】【池】【渔】，【她】【真】【的】【是】【太】【感】【兴】【趣】【了】【好】【吗】，【也】【不】【知】【道】【这】【到】【底】【是】【不】【是】【她】【小】【叔】【的】【闺】【女】，【小】【叔】【都】【那】【么】【说】【了】，【应】【该】【是】【吧】，【那】【这】【就】【是】【她】【妹】【妹】【了】【呀】。 【可】【是】【这】【小】【婶】【婶】【到】【底】【是】【何】【方】【神】【圣】【呀】？【她】【真】【的】【是】【挺】【好】【奇】【的】【嘛】。 【一】【颗】【八】【卦】【的】【心】【根】【本】
【苏】【文】【哲】【和】【林】【婉】【华】【被】【自】【己】【女】【儿】【这】【番】【话】【彻】【底】【说】【服】【了】，【同】【时】【他】【们】【也】【彻】【底】【想】【通】【了】，【只】【要】【自】【己】【的】【女】【儿】【能】【每】【天】【都】【这】【样】【开】【心】【幸】【福】，【其】【它】【的】【一】【切】【并】【不】【重】【要】。 【而】【他】【们】【唯】【一】【的】【隐】【忧】【是】，【未】【来】【在】【家】【族】【聚】【会】【的】【时】【候】，【如】【果】【苏】【璃】【带】【着】【自】【己】【这】【位】【小】【男】【朋】【友】【出】【席】，【一】【定】【会】【引】【来】【大】【家】【的】【异】【样】【目】【光】【的】，【甚】【至】【会】【招】【致】【大】【家】【的】【不】【解】。 【他】【们】【两】【边】【家】【族】【的】【长】【辈】【们】
“【老】【婆】，【我】【回】【来】【了】。”【王】【子】【程】【刚】【下】【班】【一】【进】【门】【就】【首】【先】【同】【坐】【在】【沙】【发】【上】【的】【郗】【颖】【报】【道】。 “【回】【来】【啦】。”【郗】【颖】【从】【笔】【记】【本】【电】【脑】【前】【抬】【起】【头】【冲】【王】【子】【程】【甜】【甜】【一】【笑】，【接】【着】【埋】【头】【看】【自】【己】【的】【电】【脑】。 “【又】【在】【追】【剧】？”【王】【子】【程】【凑】【过】【脸】【来】【揽】【住】【郗】【颖】【道】。 “【没】，【在】【码】【字】。”【郗】【颖】【边】【敲】【打】【键】【盘】【边】【无】【不】【惋】【惜】【的】【说】【道】，“【一】【起】【同】【过】【窗】【两】【部】【我】【都】【追】【完】【了】，【还】
【林】【夕】【护】（yao）【送】（xie）【萧】【依】【雪】【回】【家】，【竟】【然】【落】【在】【了】【一】【栋】【占】【地】【面】【积】【将】【近】【三】【十】【亩】【的】【庄】【园】【面】【前】，【换】【算】【一】【下】，【两】【个】【半】【足】【球】【场】【的】【大】【小】。 【别】【墅】【自】【带】【花】【园】、【泳】【池】【和】【室】【外】、【室】【内】【两】【个】【练】【习】【场】，【据】【萧】【依】【雪】【说】，【市】【内】【不】【让】【建】【立】【太】【大】【的】【庄】【园】，【这】【里】【只】【是】【临】【时】【居】【所】，【他】【们】【萧】【家】【本】【家】【是】【在】B【市】【的】【郊】【外】，【有】【个】【占】【地】【两】【百】【多】【亩】【的】【庄】【园】。 【林】【夕】