Sigh. Will I ever get to these books, and dozens of others, as well as all that tempting fiction? Who knows? Still, I suspect any reader could share an equally idiosyncratic “secret” list. What’s on yours?
The banquets are what I most remember about Hong Fu. Many of the customs of banquet meals in Taiwan were also present at Hong Fu, despite the fact that it served both Sichuan and Taiwanese cuisines and was in Cupertino, California. Upon our arrival, waitstaff would present a variety of set menus in ascending order of cost per table to whoever had made the reservation. The number and order of dishes on a banquet menu are purposefully set, and the waitstaff brings out the food just as thoughtfully. Eight dishes are lucky because eight (“ba”) sounds like “fa,” a word that conjures prosperity. Four, which sounds like the word for death, ought to be avoided at all costs. A few select dishes come out at a time so that diners may enjoy a variety of flavors and textures at any moment; soup and cold appetizers arrive at the beginning, and fried rice and/or noodles come toward the end.
Hannah Gadsby understands the value of context. In Nanette, her startling stand-up comedy show that was made into a Netflix special in 2018, she memorably provides additional context for Van Gogh’s Sunflowers. She recounts how she was once confronted by an audience member who, in the course of criticizing antidepressants, argued that if Van Gogh had taken medication for his depression, he would not have painted his flowery masterpieces. In response, Gadsby drew on her education in art history and “tore that man a college debt-sized new arsehole,” explaining that Van Gogh was in fact not only medicating, but that one of the medications he was taking had a side effect of increasing the intensity of the color yellow.
Besides providing a sharp counterpoint to some unwanted feedback, this context also gives us more information about how Van Gogh’s work connected with his life. In Gadsby’s new book, Ten Steps to Nanette, she offers us a similar gift, amplifying the significance of her performance by building frames of reference for its groundbreaking content.
In Their Own Best Creations: Women Writers in Postwar Television, Annie Berke explores this first Golden Age of television through the contributions of women writers, whom she convincingly argues have been grossly overlooked. Of particular interest to Berke is how women writers negotiated and demonstrated their value, both onscreen and off, in “an industry that sought to capitalize on female viewership while keeping executive power largely in men’s hands.”
I tell the oracles that no one has touched
me, that plenty have looked, drunk their fill
on my ( ). Their predictions break down every