Books
fromThe New Yorker
5 days ago"The Welfare State," by Nell Zink
A woman struggles with fear and imbalance on a narrow, mist-shrouded mountain trail while her confident friend remains sure-footed.
For a task this difficult, you need someone whose pleasant blandness can sell the fact that billions of mind-melded Others are going to be slurping down their liquified neighbors and there's nothing the dozen or so conscious and unchanged people can do about it. You need someone whose energy is that of an enthusiastic golden retriever, whose aura is a turquoise blend of compassion and comprehensibility, and whose dimples are as pleasantly textured as warm focaccia.