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| the happy couple, basically. via |
It's times like these that I really wish I hadn't used up my allotment of Jodie Foster-meeting-the-aliens-in-Contact references over the years, because this wedding piece here is a brilliant, compressed-diamond of such overwhelming beauty that it defies words. I am humbled by it. I am hamstrung. I have nothing to add. I'm a joke hobo with an empty joke top hat whose lid flaps open like a soup can and whose joke pants keep falling down. ( did a pretty job riffing on it though.)
It's been quite a week for Platonic forms, with the most Thought Catalogy piece ever arriving the other day, and this really perfectly formed poop I just proffered to the gods, but now we've got the Most New York Timesian Wedding Announcement in the history of the New York Times, weddings, and announcements, not to mention, I suppose, this, the most PTSOTLian piece ever as well, in which I take something someone else pointed at on the internet, copy and paste parts of it here, add nothing of value, then wait for the accolades to roll in. A few choice selections below from the wedding story of Michael Robinson and Alexandra Sage Mehta, whose parents were apparently a Dickensian literary device, but please go read the whole thing.
ALEXANDRA SAGE MEHTA and Michael Robinson do not seem to belong to the Facebook generation that expresses itself in sentence fragments. In conversation, their sentences are grammatical and lovely and often sound as if previously written, if not rewritten. Both are writers and care deeply about words as well as opera, cooking, stick-shift cars, modern design and swimming in cold water.
Ms. Mehta, 27, who grew up on the Upper East Side, is working on a memoir and a novel, and is not easily typecast. She prefers writing in the darkest corner of the quietest library she can find, yet she’s also social and vivacious.
"A little on the nose," Wes Anderson said from atop a penny-farthing bicycle.
They ran into each other at a “huge party given by three very popular Princeton girls,” she said...
They met at Lucien, a French restaurant downtown. He arrived on a black Bianchi bicycle, and this time she felt sparks. They talked about writing, bicycles and their fathers. Her father is Ved Mehta, the prolific, blind Indian writer who lives in New York; his father, E. Steven Robinson, owns a commodities trading company in Michigan...
...One of those friends, Eliza Gray, an assistant editor at The New Republic magazine, said: “You can always count on them to talk about something interesting, whether it’s yoga or an artist or something in history or a place or a song or even politics. They’re never dull. They’re both unique.”
Oh word? Not sure that had come across until now, but thanks for spelling it out.
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12 comments:
Stuff like this that makes me reconsider the effect of all of this Belle and Sebastian I've been listening to all these years.
You can always count on them to talk about something interesting, whether it’s yoga or an artist or something in history or a place or a song or even politics or the weather or something that they've eaten, sometimes they'll even discuss a movie they've seen or a book they've just finished reading. They’re never dull. They’re both unique.
Cool story bro.
Ha, I can't tell if that's the direct quote from the piece or if it's embellished, and I think that's great. Just great.
Ms. Mehta, 27, who grew up on the Upper East Side, is working on a memoir and a novel, and is not easily typecast.
You sure about that?
Probably the first time I've wished that the Times had comments for a story turned on.
This is the only web-site in the world where stories get like 100 likes and 7 comments wtf.
hi luke, here is some validation for you via comment. you're very smart and talented, please don't throw up your dinner, handsome.
Thanks mom?
"is not easily typecast" lmfaooo
Ha, right? I don't think they know what that means maybe?
This is absolutely, positively fucking brilliant. I half expected it to be a gag at the end. If the woman who wrote this wasn't paralyzed with laughter while writing it, so much the better. That means not only do they exist, but she exists as well. I can't tell you how much this made my day.
It gets worse. I recently came across a story the bride wrote in the American Reader. She whines about a paper company using Anna Karenina in a sample invitation without staying true to the story. Seriously. A whole article. You can't make this woman up.
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