A Terrible Beauty Is Born
Although I try to maintain a sort of constant state of annoyance and anger, because I find it helps my writing, I’ve been haunted by contentment for a week. Thus I’ve been serving as a pass-through gate to other sites and people far less pleased with the state of things.
My friend Rebecca Sheehan has been, for years, the kind of person who should have a blog. Her writing is a dense mixture of the beautiful, the uncanny, and the stubbornly sensible — it gleams with traces of Borges, Babel, Adorno. She never writes anything that can be read only once. Her language shows an astonishing accumulation of thinking, and yet remains supple.
Her brand-new blog is being tweaked around the edges, but the first post is up, and it’s a winner. She’s writing on those sleeping pill ads with Lincoln and the Beaver. Here you go: