In his classic essay “Notes of a Native Son,” James Baldwin remembers the day in August 1943 when his family buried his father, the morning after Night 1 of a historic two-night riot in Baldwin’s home neighborhood of Harlem. The destruction was epic—“a wilderness of smashed plate glass.” And so was Baldwin’s grief.
Gotham Writers Thoughtful Thursday, Episode 21
Play It, Maestro
A writer should worship words the way a maestro worships Mahler and play them with the same kind of fervor those maestros show on the podium. Using a different metaphor, I discussed this in one of my recent videos (released on our social media channels every Thursday morning). I’d like to say (or show) a few more words on this.
Playwrights tend to be especially gifted with language. Here’s a passage from Peter Shaffer’s play Amadeus, in which a composer, a jealous rival of Mozart, discusses the importance of his profession: