Recently I resubscribed to the New Yorker, that bastion of journalism and commentary so often lauded by us literary types. I had a subscription about five years ago that I let lapse after a year. Finding myself with a lot more time to read, it made sense to reacquaint myself with the magazine.
Kill Your Darlings is enjoyable enough as a dramatic thriller. It’s slick, has high production values with a good attention to period detail, and employs an accomplished formal craft that enhances the drug-fuelled montages in which it occasionally indulges Unfortunately, it’s also an example of cultural biography dramatised and made conservative (packed with fear) for the mainstream.
For journalism school to be worthwhile for students, it needs to provide more of the bad news Rachel Buchanan presents in her book and Age article. It’s not until you’ve hit the six month mark post-graduation, and still need Centrelink, that you realise the enormity of the lie you’ve swallowed (and the accompanying HECS debt).
The immense support that Vagabond has shown to new and established poets alike through their Rare Objects Series is without competition, and with the series soon winding up at #100, it presents an impressive and elegant tribute to the poetic spirit rather than the publishing market, the poet and reader rather than the profit margin.
There is something deeply unsettling about Paul Greengrass’ new film Captain Phillips. Despite being reviewed positively and tipped as an Oscar winner for Tom Hanks, it has also garnered negative attention. The men who crewed the Maersk Alabama when it was hijacked by Somali pirates in 2009 have brought a lawsuit against the Maersk Line, claiming that they were deliberately put in danger of hijacking by Captain Richard Phillips in the interests of the company.