And the Nobel goes to…

Ill: N. Elmehed. © Nobel Media 2016
Ill: N. Elmehed. © Nobel Media 2016

When the Swedish Academy announced this morning that Bob Dylan was their choice for this year’s Literature Prize, people went crazy in exactly the ways you’d expect: his die-hard fans were jubilant; many writers and literature-lovers expressed open dismay; and others jumped into the fray to defend the award and call out the naysayers for snobbery and narrow-mindedness.

I think one can be nonplussed or even disappointed by this decision and remain innocent of elitism or parochialism or of suggesting Dylan is anything less than awesome. Sure, song lyrics are poetry, which makes it literature. Still, I don’t think the expectation that the award go to people who’ve spent their lives making, you know, books, as their principal occupation, is necessarily misplaced or snobby. Continue reading

Our Favorite Films: A Tribute to 16 Years of Watching Movies with My Kids

Charlie Chaplin, Tramp, Modern Times
Charlie Chaplin in “Modern Times”

My oldest son is leaving for college tomorrow. He is so ready for this and so psyched. I am not ready at all. I’m happy for him, of course, excited, proud—all of that. But ready? Not so much.

This may seem to have nothing to do with favorite movies, but bear with me.

In three years, when our youngest leaves home, my husband and I will experience the more monumental transition to empty-nestdom. But the shift from a foursome to a trio feels pretty dramatic in its own right, and I wanted to honor it in some way.

Some people are surprised to learn that such a bookish family watches so much television. Continue reading