#fleet foxes

This year, in hindsight, was a real write-off. I had grand plans for it, and while I ushered it in in a very low-key manner since I was recovering from the flu, I’d expected things to look up. Well, you know what they say about plans (RIP, my trip to Europe). I got very, very sick in early February, and I’m not entirely sure it wasn’t COVID. Since March, the days have been a carousel of monotony: coffee, run, work, cook, yoga, existential spiral, sleep. My Own Private Year of Rest and Relaxation, if you will. Of course, life has a way of breaking through regardless; I attended protests, completed my thesis, graduated from grad school, took a couple of road trips upstate, and celebrated the accomplishments and birthdays of friends and family from a safe social distance. It was all a bit of a blur, and not ideal circumstances to re-enter the real world, or whatever this COVID-present is. 

Throughout it all, in lieu of happy hours, coffee dates, and panel discussions, I’ve turned even more to culture and cuisine to fill the the negative space on my calendar where my social life once resided. However, since a global pandemic ought not to disrupt every tradition, here’s my year-end round up of what made this terrible one slightly more tolerable. 

TV

After an ascetic fall semester abstaining from TV in 2019 (save for my beloved Succession), I allowed myself to watch more as the year wore on, and especially after graduation. I caught up on some cultural blind spots by finally getting around to The Sopranos, Ramy, Search Party, andGirlfriends.I wasn’t alone in bingeing Sopranos, it absolutely lived up to the hype and then some; this Jersey Girl can’t get enough gabagool-adjacent content, pizzeria culture is my culture!

Speaking of my culture, there was also a disproportionate amount of UK and European shows in my queue. Nothing like being in social isolation and watching the horny Irish teens in Normal People brood. I’m partial to it because I share a surname with the showrunner, so I have to embrace blind loyalty even though there was, in my opinion, a Marianne problem in the casting. Speaking of charming Irish characters with limited emotional vocabularies, I belatedly discovered This Way Up a 2019 show from Aisling Bea and Sharon Horgan. And while Connell and Marianne are actually exceptional students, I found the real normal people on GBBO to bring me a bit more joy. Baking was abundantly therapeutic for me this year, and watching charming people drink loads of tea and fret over soggy bottoms was a comfort. I also discovered the Great Pottery Throw Down, and as a lifelong ceramics enthusiast, I cannot recommend it highly enough if you care about things like slips, coils, and glazing techniques. GPTD embraces wabi sabi in a way that GBBO eschews flaws in favor of perfection, and in a time of uncertainty, the former reminded me why I miss getting my hands in the mud as a coping mechanism (hence all the baking). Speaking of coping mechanisms, like everybody else with two eyes and an HBO password, I loved Michaela Cole’s I May Destroy You; though we’ve all had enough distress this year for a lifetime, watching Cole’s Arabella process her assault and search for meaning, justice, and closure was a compelling portrait of grief and purpose in the aftermath of trauma. Arabella’s creative and patient friends Kwame and Terry steal the show throughout, as they deal with their own setbacks and emotional turmoil. Where I May Destroy You provides catharsis, Ted Lasso presents British eccentricity in all its stereotypical glory. At first I was skeptical of the show’s hype on Twitter, but once I gave in it charmed me, if only for Roy Kent’s emotional trajectory and extolling the restorative powers of shortbread. For a more accurate depiction of life in London, Steve McQueen’s series Small Axe provides a visually lush and politically clear-eyed depiction of the lives of British West Indians in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Lastly, how could I get through a recap of my year in tv if I don’t mention The Crown.Normal People may have needed an intimacy coordinator, but the number of Barbours at Balmoral was the real phonographic content for me.

Turning my attention across the Channel, after the trainwreck that was Emily in Paris, I started watching a proper French show, Call My Agent! It’s truly delightful, and unlike the binge-worthy format of “ambient shows” I have been really relishing taking an hour each week to watch CMA, subtitles, cigarettes, and all.

Honorable mention: The Last Dance for its in-depth look at many notable former Chicago residents; High Fidelity for reminding me of the years in college when my brother and I would drive around listening to Beta Band; and Big Mouth.

Music

My Spotify wrapped this year was a bit odd. I don‘t think “Chromatica II into 911″ is technically a song, so it revealed other things about my listening habits this year, which turned out to remain very much stuck in the last, sonically. I listened to a lot more podcasts than new music this year, but there were some records that found their way into heavy rotation. While I listened to a lot of classics both old and new to write my thesis (Paul Simon, Leonard Cohen, Prokofiev, and Bach) the soundtrack to my coursework, runs, walks, and editing was more contemporary. Standouts include: 

• Saint Cloud by Waxahatchee, which makes me feel like I’m breathing fresh air even when I’m stuck inside all day 
• La Bella Vita by Niia, which was there for me when I walked past my ex on 7th avenue (twice!) and he pretended that I didn’t exist 
• Fetch the Bolt Cutters by THEE Fiona Apple, because Fiona, our social distancing queen, has always been my Talmud, her songs shimmering, evolving, and living with me every year 
• Shore by Fleet Foxes, for the long drive to the Catskills 
• Women in Music, Pt. III by HAIM, because these days, these days…

Musicians have been reckoning with tumult this year as much as the rest of us, and the industry has dealt with loss on all fronts. I’d be remiss not to talk about how the passing of John Prine brought his music into my life, and McCoy Tyner, who has been a companion through good and bad over the years. 

Honorable mention to: græ by Moses Sumney; The Main Thing by Real Estate; on the tender spot of every calloused moment by Ambrose Akinmusire; Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers; folklore by you know who; and songs by Adrianne Lenker. 

Reading

What would this overlong blob be without a list of the best things I read this year? While I left publishing temporarily, books, the news, and newsletters still took up a majority of my attention (duh and/or doomscrolling by any other name). I can’t be comprehensive, and frankly, there are already great roundups of the best longform this year out there, so this is mostly books and praising random writers. 

Last year I wrote about peak newsletter. Apparently, my prediction was a bit premature as this year saw an even bigger Substack Boom. But two new newsletters in particular have delighted me: Aminatou Sow’s Crème de la Crème and Hunter Harris’ Hung Up (her ”this one line” series is true force of chaotic good on Blue Ivy’s internet). Relatedly, Sow and Ann Friedman’s Big Friendship was gifted to me by a dear friend and another bff and I are going to read it in tandem next week. 

On the “Barack Obama published a 700+ page memoir, crippling the printing industry’s supply chains” front, grad school severely hamstrung my ability to read for pleasure, but I managed to get through almost 30 books this year, some old (Master and Margarita), most new-ish (Say Nothing, Nickel Boys). Four 2020 books in particular enthralled me:

• Uncanny Valley: Anna Wiener’s memoir has been buzzed about since n+1 published her essay of the same name in 2016. Her ability to see, clear-eyed, the industry for both its foibles and allure captured that era when the excess and solipsism of the Valley seemed more of a cultural quirk than the harbinger of societal schism.  
  
• Transcendent Kingdom: Yaa Gyasi’s novel about faith, family, loss, and–naturally–grad school was deeply empathetic, relatable, and moving. I think this was my favorite book of the year. Following the life of a Ghanaian family that settles in Alabama, it captured the kind of emotional ennui that comes from having one foot in the belief of childhood and one foot in the bewilderment that comes from losing faith in the aftermath of tragedy.  
• Vanishing Half:Similarly to Transcendent Kingdom, Brit Bennett’s novel about siblings who are separated; it’s also about the ways that colorism can be internalized and the ways chosen family can (and cannot) replace your real kin. It was a compassionate story that captured the pain of abuse and abandonment in two pages in a way that Hanya Yanagihara couldn’t do in 720.
• Dessert Person:Ok, so this is a cookbook, but it’s a good read, and the recipes are approachable and delicious. After all the BA Test Kitchen chaos this summer, it’s nice we didn’t have to cancel Claire. Make the thrice baked rye cookies!!!! You will thank me later.

Honorable mention goes to: Leave The World Behind for hitting the Severance/Station Eleven dystopian apocalypse novel sweet spot; Exciting Timesfor reminding me why I liked Sally Rooney; and Summerby Ali Smith, which wasn’t the strongest of the seasonal quartet, but was a series I enjoyed for two years.  

Podcasts

I’m saving my most enthusiastic section for last: ever since 2018, I’ve been listening to an embarrassing amount of podcasts. Moving into a studio apartment will do that to you, as will grad school, add a pandemic to that equation and there’s a lot of time to fill with what has sort of become white noise to me (or, in one case, nice white parents noise). In addition to the shows that I’ve written about before (Still Processing, Popcast, Who? Weekly, and Why is This Happening?), these are the shows I started listening to this year that fueled my parasocial fire:

• You’re Wrong About: If you like history, hate patriarchy, and are a millennial, you’ll love Sarah Marshall and Michael Hobbes’ deep dives into the most notable stories of the past few decades (think Enron and Princess Diana) and also some other cultural flashpoints that briefly but memorably shaped the national discourse (think Terri Schiavo, Elian González, and the Duke Lacrosse rape case).
• Home Cooking: This mini series started (and ended) during the pandemic. As someone who stress baked her way through the past nine months, Samin Nosrat and Hrishikesh Hirway’s show is filled with warmth, banter, and useful advice. Home Cooking has been a reassuring companion in the kitchen, and even though it will be a time capsule once we’re all vaccinated and close talking again, it’s still worth a listen for tips and inspiration while we’re hunkered down for the time being. 
• How Long Gone: I don’t really know how to explain this other than saying that media twitter broke my brain and enjoying Chris Black and Jason Stewart’s ridiculous banter is the price I pay for it.
• Blank Check: Blank Check is like the GBBO of podcasts–Griffin Newman and David Sims’ enthusiasm for and encyclopedic knowledge of film, combined with their hilarious guests and inevitable cultural tangents is always a welcome distraction. Exploring a different film from a director’s oeuvre each week over the course of months, the podcast delves into careers and creative decisions with the passion of completists who want to honor the filmmaking process even when the finished products end up falling short. The Nancy Meyers and Norah Ephron series were favorites because I’d seen most of the movies, but I also have been enjoying the Robert Zemeckis episodes they’re doing right now. The possibility of Soderbergh comes up often (The Big Picture just did a nice episode about/with him), and I’d love to hear them talk about his movies or Spike Lee (or, obviously, Martin Scorsese).      

Odds & Ends

If you’re still reading this, you’re a real one, so let’s get into the fun stuff. This was a horrible way to start a new decade, but at least we ended our long national nightmare. We got an excellent dumb twitter meme. I obviously made banana bread, got into home made nut butters, and baked an obscene amount of granola as I try to manifest a future where I own a Subaru Outback. Amanda Mull answered every question I had about Why [Insert Quarantine Trend] Happens. My brother started an organization that is working to eliminate food insecurity in LA. Discovering the Down Dog app allowed me to stay moderately sane, despite busting both of my knees in separate stupid falls on the criminally messed up sidewalks and streets of Philadelphia. I can’t stop burning these candles.Jim Carrey confused us all. We have a Jewish Second Gentleman! Grub Street Diets continued to spark joy. Dolly Parton remains America’s Sweetheart (and possible vaccine savior). And, last, but certainly not least: no one still knows how to pronounce X Æ A-12 Boucher-Musk.

Favorite Albums 2020:

1. Tame Impala - The Slow Rush
2. Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher
3. Lido Pimienta - Miss Colombia
4. Jessie Ware - What’s Your Pleasure?
5. Fiona Apple - Fetch The Bolt Cutters
6. Grimes - Miss Anthropocene
7. Soccer Mommy - Color Theory
8. Beach Bunny - Honeymoon
9. Fleet Foxes - Shore
10. The Killers - Imploding The Mirage

i would just personally like to say that i’m in love with robin pecknold from fleet foxes send tweet

Автор:Суки Флит.

Книга:Лисы.

Язык прочтения: Русский, любительский перевод.

Жанр: NA, роман.

Рейтинг на goodreads:4.34

Аннотация:

Когда Дашиэля, лучшего друга Данни, находят мертвым на пустыре лондонской окраины, он принимает решение вот что бы то ни стало разыскать убийцу. Но Данни сложно взаимодействовать с внешним миром, и для того, чтобы выжить, ему приходится сокращать свои контакты с этим миром до минимума. Днем он живет в душевой заброшенного бассейна, где чинит электронные устройства, чтобы после обменять их на вещи, а по ночам в одиночку совершает рискованные вылазки в город и охотится на акул – опасных людей, преследующих своих беззащитных жертв.
Случайная встреча с американским мальчишкой, продающим себя на улицах, вносит в его одинокое существование хаос. Мики травмированный и ранимый, и Данни испытывает отчаянную потребность защитить его. Узнав Мики ближе, Данни понимает, что с самой главной опасностью, угрожающей его другу, он совладать не может.
Чтобы спасти Мики, Данни должен пойти на риск и сделать шаг, пугающий его сильнее любой акулы: впустить к себе мир и поверить в то, что его принимают таким, какой он есть. Его страх – единственное, что способно разлучить их, после того, как это не удалось сделать ни морозной зиме на улицах, ни расстоянию в тысячи миль. 

Отзыв:

После начала моего жуткого reading slump’а боюсь начинать что-либо: вдруг заброшу или из-за учебы не будет достаточно времени, вдруг растяну чтение на слишком долгий срок. Но начав читать “Лис”, я уже не смогла остановиться, да и не хотела.

Действия происходят в дождливом Лондоне, на вид аристократичном, но внутри, как и большинство городов, полным своего уродства. Молодые парни и девушки, не имея ничего больше, вынужденны продавать себя на улицах. Их снимают так называемые акулы. В один день, одного из таких молодых людей, парня по имени Дашиэль, находят мертвым. 

Данни - главный герой истории и лучший друг Дашиэля, - пытается отыскать того, кто это сделал. Данни живет в заброшенном бассейне и зарабатывает на жизнь починкой телефонов и различных устройств. Он имеет своеобразный ум, прячется за волосами от людей, стесняясь своей внешности и шрамов на лице. В темное время суток Данни начинает вести охоту на акул. В одну такую ночь он встречает мальчика по имени Мики. Мики страдает от частых обмороков, любит блестки, невероятно красив и заставляет сердце Данни биться чаще. На вид он хрупкий, но гораздо сильнее чем кажется.

– Единственное, чего я хочу, – это быть с тобой. Вот. Все остальное стоит на втором месте, и я согласен на любой компромисс. Помни об этом. Если мы должны жить, как лисы, значит так мы и будем жить. Лишь бы мне быть с тобой.

А теперь скажу пару слов о Данни и Мики. Оба они захватили мое сердце, а их история до сих пор не отпускает меня. Меня покорило небезразличие Данни, его безграничная доброта и абсолютное неумение ненавидеть людей. Забота о других и желание помочь. Меня не оставила равнодушной хрупкость и самоотверженность Мики, его яркость, его сердечность. Его любовь к блесткам, макияжу и разговорам.

Если бы его глаза были небом, я бы никогда и не взглянул на землю.

И Данни и Мики довольно необычные герои и имеют гораздо больше достоинств, чем я перечислила. Но также каждый из них имеет и свои шрамы на душе. Пока я читала, мне хотелось прокричать автору: позвольте Мики краситься, гримировать людей и работать визажистом, носить платья с блестками и всё, что душе захочется, быть собой. Позвольте Данни дарить свою доброту людям и миру и жить счастливо со своим парнем. Эти двое не заслуживали того, что пережили. Но Данни и Мики посреди всего самого плохого находят счастье друг в друге, и на смену зиме будто приходят тёплая весна. Отношения между ними очень нежные. Эти двое поддерживают друг друга, понимают друг друга как никто и делятся всем, что на душе и стараются преодолеть плохое сообща; стоят горой друг за друга. Это именно те здоровые отношения, что должны быть у каждого.

Книга до бесконечности трогательная, местами мрачная, но тем не менее замечательная и не перестающая быть прекрасной. История занимает все мысли после первых двух глав и не отпускает до самого конца. Автор показывает, что несмотря на болезни, ты все равно человек, прекрасный и настоящий, сверкающий так ярко, словно звёзды. Что любовь найдет тебя, и ты заслуживаешь того, чтобы быть любимым. Каждый из нас заслуживает найти уникального для него человека, что будет рядом, когда дела не идут, и от одного присутствия которого будет становится легче.

Конец самый что ни на есть чудесный, тот самый конец после которого не нужны никакие продолжения, после которого вздыхаешь от облегчения, ведь герои обрели свое счастье. Заслуженно ставлю именно такую оценку, а рука не поднимется поставить ниже.

Оценка:10/10