newyorker--2020-03-25--In the Midst of the Coronavirus Crisis, We Must Start Envisioning the Future Now

Sixteen years ago , in the very early days of medical genetic testing , I received a positive result for one of the BRCA mutations , which are correlated with a vastly increased risk of breast and ovarian cancers .
I began interviewing doctors and genetic counsellors , in order to decide whether to have preventive surgeries—and , if so , which ones .
I quickly understood that the science of cancer prevention had a tunnel-vision problem : I was counselled to undergo surgeries that would lower my risk of cancer but vastly increase other health risks .
I joked @ @ @ @ @ @ @ successful the sooner I died of something else .
What made my predicament more difficult was that the medical advice I got wasn ’ t wrong .
Preventive surgeries were the best options available for me to live a longer life .
But the advice was dispensed without regard for , or at times even acknowledgment of , the damage that these surgeries would do to my health .
I agonized over the risks , the uncertainties , and the irreversible nature of my decisions .
In the end , I chose to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the order and not nearly on the time frame that was recommended back then .
I am now older than my mother or her aunt , who also had the mutation , ever lived to be .
But I was profoundly changed by the surgeries .
My life now is not fully continuous with my life before the interventions .
I like some of the changes and regret the others .
I also know that , if I had not been mindful of the unintended consequences of my decisions , my health and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the worse for it .
In the United States , we are in a similarly terrible predicament now , as a society , as I was as a person with a body .
The measures we are taking to save ourselves from a global pandemic of the novel coronavirus are changing us in fundamental , possibly irreparable ways .
By instituting lockdowns and deploying a variety of emergency powers across the country , we are destroying our economy , our social fabric , and our political system .
We will never be the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the better and the worse , as opposed to the solely catastrophic , will depend on how mindful we remain of the damage we are doing as we attempt to save ourselves from the pandemic .
The economy has already taken the biggest sudden hit in memory .
Hundreds of thousands of people have lost their jobs , and many more will become unemployed in the coming weeks .
Inequalities in wealth , opportunity , and access to health care have become even more glaring than they were just a couple of weeks @ @ @ @ @ @ @ torn in unprecedented ways , owing to school closings , a widespread shift to working from home , social distancing , sheltering in place .
Whereas we used to share dozens of experiences a day with friends , acquaintances , and strangers—from riding the subway to working in an office , standing in line at lunch , going to a concert , eating at a restaurant , chatting to an Uber driver—many of us have been reduced to sharing only isolation and the fear of chance encounters , if either of those can @ @ @ @ @ @ @ political system , frayed as it was , is under extraordinary stress .
The Supreme Court has delayed cases .
The Justice Department is seeking extreme powers .
The Trump Administration is using the crisis as an opportunity to push through a more extreme version of its agenda .
The President now lies to the nation daily , not only on Twitter but also on live television , during briefings that he has turned into versions of his rallies .
The election campaign is in a state of suspended animation .
The borders @ @ @ @ @ @ @ level , there is a real possibility that the coronavirus will paralyze the work of Congress , leaving the White House without check .
At the local level , quarantine measures either have stopped or will stop all town councils , school boards , and community meetings .
Local news media , an endangered species before the crisis , may have been dealt a final , fatal blow by the coronavirus .
In the past week , several high-profile writers have raised the possibility that emergency measures taken against the pandemic are too @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Katz , writing in the Times , has argued that the threat of the pandemic is overestimated .
The paper ’ s opinion columnist Thomas Friedman echoed this argument .
But the problem is that , after the Trump Administration wasted the time that was available to prepare for the pandemic ’ s spread , by instituting widespread testing and creating additional hospital facilities , today ’ s Draconian measures are both necessary and probably insufficient .
As the President careens toward lifting preventive measures , in order to help the economy at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ will increasingly find ourselves in the absurd position of demanding that the government drastically curtail all manner of freedom .
The low bar set by the incompetent , self-obsessed , lying President makes any halfway-competent public servant sound brilliant .
In New York , Governor Andrew Cuomo ’ s popularity seems to have spiked simply because he is acting and speaking rationally .
“ In this time of crisis , with little concrete information available , I need Cuomo ’ s measured bullying , ” Rebecca Fishbein wrote on Jezebel , in a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I ’ m in Love with Andrew Cuomo ?
?
?
” We tend to throw the word “ authoritarian ” around a lot , usually to mean anything that we perceive as less than democratic .
But one of the technical definitions of authoritarianism is a regime in which one person or a single group of people make all governmental decisions , denying the public participation in political life .
( This distinguishes authoritarianism from totalitarianism , where people are forced to participate all the time . )
When we virtuously retreat @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and delegating all authority to one man armed with emergency powers , we are creating a society as close to the textbook definition of authoritarianism as has ever actually existed .
So what do we do now that so much economic , social , and political damage has already been done ?
We have to start talking about the damage , and thinking about tomorrow .
We have to recognize that what we are doing to avoid being killed by a virus is also killing us as a society .
We have to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ social fabric .
One tool that will be necessary for this project is an antibody test , which will tell people whether they ’ ve already had the coronavirus and recovered from it .
( Antibody tests for the novel coronavirus exist , but the tests that are currently available—or , for most people , not available—are tests that check for the presence of the virus .
People who have already recovered will test negative . )
It is currently assumed that people who have recovered from the infection might have immunity to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of time .
Provided they ’ ve been quarantined for enough time , these could be the people who can volunteer at hospitals , with food and service delivery , at schools .
A large enough number of people with immunity , mobilized intelligently , could not only help prevent new infections but also help remedy some of the inequalities that the crisis has exacerbated .

Sixteen years ago, in the very early days of medical genetic testing, I received a positive result for one of the BRCA mutations, which are correlated with a vastly increased risk of breast and ovarian cancers. I began interviewing doctors and genetic counsellors, in order to decide whether to have preventive surgeries—and, if so, which ones. I quickly understood that the science of cancer prevention had a tunnel-vision problem: I was counselled to undergo surgeries that would lower my risk of cancer but vastly increase other health risks. I joked that cancer prevention would be the more successful the sooner I died of something else.
What made my predicament more difficult was that the medical advice I got wasn’t wrong. Preventive surgeries were the best options available for me to live a longer life. But the advice was dispensed without regard for, or at times even acknowledgment of, the damage that these surgeries would do to my health. I agonized over the risks, the uncertainties, and the irreversible nature of my decisions. In the end, I chose to have the surgeries, albeit not in the order and not nearly on the time frame that was recommended back then. I am now older than my mother or her aunt, who also had the mutation, ever lived to be. But I was profoundly changed by the surgeries. My life now is not fully continuous with my life before the interventions. I like some of the changes and regret the others. I also know that, if I had not been mindful of the unintended consequences of my decisions, my health and my quality of life today would be the worse for it.
In the United States, we are in a similarly terrible predicament now, as a society, as I was as a person with a body. The measures we are taking to save ourselves from a global pandemic of the novel coronavirus are changing us in fundamental, possibly irreparable ways. By instituting lockdowns and deploying a variety of emergency powers across the country, we are destroying our economy, our social fabric, and our political system. We will never be the same. Whether we change for both the better and the worse, as opposed to the solely catastrophic, will depend on how mindful we remain of the damage we are doing as we attempt to save ourselves from the pandemic.
The economy has already taken the biggest sudden hit in memory. Hundreds of thousands of people have lost their jobs, and many more will become unemployed in the coming weeks. Inequalities in wealth, opportunity, and access to health care have become even more glaring than they were just a couple of weeks ago.
The social fabric is being torn in unprecedented ways, owing to school closings, a widespread shift to working from home, social distancing, sheltering in place. Whereas we used to share dozens of experiences a day with friends, acquaintances, and strangers—from riding the subway to working in an office, standing in line at lunch, going to a concert, eating at a restaurant, chatting to an Uber driver—many of us have been reduced to sharing only isolation and the fear of chance encounters, if either of those can be said to be shared.
Our political system, frayed as it was, is under extraordinary stress. The Supreme Court has delayed cases. The Justice Department is seeking extreme powers. The Trump Administration is using the crisis as an opportunity to push through a more extreme version of its agenda. The President now lies to the nation daily ,not only on Twitter but also on live television, during briefings that he has turned into versions of his rallies. The election campaign is in a state of suspended animation. The borders are effectively closed. At the federal level, there is a real possibility that the coronavirus will paralyze the work of Congress, leaving the White House without check. At the local level, quarantine measures either have stopped or will stop all town councils, school boards, and community meetings. Local news media, an endangered species before the crisis, may have been dealt a final, fatal blow by the coronavirus.
In the past week, several high-profile writers have raised the possibility that emergency measures taken against the pandemic are too drastic. The founding director of the Yale-Griffin Prevention Research Center, David Katz, writing in the Times, has argued that the threat of the pandemic is overestimated. The paper’s opinion columnist Thomas Friedman echoed this argument. But the problem is that, after the Trump Administration wasted the time that was available to prepare for the pandemic’s spread, by instituting widespread testing and creating additional hospital facilities, today’s Draconian measures are both necessary and probably insufficient. As the President careens toward lifting preventive measures, in order to help the economy at the expense of human lives, we will increasingly find ourselves in the absurd position of demanding that the government drastically curtail all manner of freedom.
The low bar set by the incompetent, self-obsessed, lying President makes any halfway-competent public servant sound brilliant. In New York, Governor Andrew Cuomo’s popularity seems to have spiked simply because he is acting and speaking rationally. “In this time of crisis, with little concrete information available, I need Cuomo’s measured bullying,” Rebecca Fishbein wrote on Jezebel, in a piece called “Help, I Think I’m in Love with Andrew Cuomo???”
We tend to throw the word “authoritarian” around a lot, usually to mean anything that we perceive as less than democratic. But one of the technical definitions of authoritarianism is a regime in which one person or a single group of people make all governmental decisions, denying the public participation in political life. (This distinguishes authoritarianism from totalitarianism, where people are forced to participate all the time.) When we virtuously retreat to our homes, deserting public space and delegating all authority to one man armed with emergency powers, we are creating a society as close to the textbook definition of authoritarianism as has ever actually existed.
So what do we do now that so much economic, social, and political damage has already been done? We have to start talking about the damage, and thinking about tomorrow. We have to recognize that what we are doing to avoid being killed by a virus is also killing us as a society. We have to make it a priority to restore the social fabric.
One tool that will be necessary for this project is an antibody test, which will tell people whether they’ve already had the coronavirus and recovered from it. (Antibody tests for the novel coronavirus exist, but the tests that are currently available—or, for most people, not available—are tests that check for the presence of the virus. People who have already recovered will test negative.) It is currently assumed that people who have recovered from the infection might have immunity to it, at least for a period of time. Provided they’ve been quarantined for enough time, these could be the people who can volunteer at hospitals, with food and service delivery, at schools. A large enough number of people with immunity, mobilized intelligently, could not only help prevent new infections but also help remedy some of the inequalities that the crisis has exacerbated.


newyorker--2020-03-25--The Group Making Beautiful Quarantine Songs on a Barcelona Rooftop

Earlier this month , when the Spanish government ordered a national lockdown in response to the coronavirus , Rai Benet , Klaus Stroink , and Guillem Boltó , Catalan musicians in their twenties , who share an apartment with a rooftop terrace in Barcelona , did the only logical thing .
They took a trumpet , trombone , and guitar upstairs , along with some beers , and started to riff .
“ It wasn ’ t anything serious , ” Stroink told me .
“ We were just trying to come up with some lyrics about the quarantine.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on a bossa-nova tune , with a smattering of words in Portuguese and some gentle , Brazilian-style patter .
Not all the harmonies quite lined up , and they blanked on some lyrics while singing .
But they recorded themselves anyway , then posted an Instagram story , to entertain other friends who were stuck inside .
The “ likes ” rolled in , and the next day they carried on , this time with a reggae beat and a chorus line in English ( “ Please stay homa .
/ Don ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s O.K .
to be alona.
” ) Midway through the song , Stroink pulled out a cell phone to reveal a friend , the reggae singer Sr. Wilson , who performed a rap solo from his own apartment .
Word started to spread in the Catalan music scene , and , as other artists offered to collaborate , the three watched as their social-media accounts went from having a few thousand followers to tens of thousands , practically overnight .
Now they have a dedicated Instagram page ( @ stay.homas ) @ @ @ @ @ @ @ devoted to the project—a series of songs , in different languages and genres , about the lockdown .
As of this writing , they ’ ve posted nine .
“ Maybe you can forget for a moment that everything is so strange and dramatic , ” Stroink told me .
“ But we also want to give a message of responsibility : ‘ Please stay home .
Do what the authorities say !
’ ” There ’ s a song sung in a rumba style ( galloping beat , hand-clapping ) that opens @ @ @ @ @ @ @ corona era una cerveza .
/ Yo pensaba que la corona era para la princesa ( “ I thought corona was just a beer .
/ I thought corona was something for a princess to wear ” ) .
( Corona is Spanish for “ crown.
” ) One song is modelled on trap music ( heavy beat , synthesizer ) ; another , featuring the Catalan singer Judit Neddermann , is a blend of gospel , soul , and doo-wop .
They sing it in English , with a hitch or two @ @ @ @ @ @ @ instance , that “ confination ” wasn ’ t an actual word .
It still sounded good : “ I got to be patient , so let ’ s enjoy this confination.
” Each song requires multiple takes , and hours of preparation .
The degree of difficulty increases every day .
How many puns can you invent about a pandemic ?
“ We wake up and have no fucking clue what we ’ re going to do .
We make some coffee and sit with the guitar , ” Stroink said .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ the song but learn the musical parts and memorize the lyrics .
They send the chord changes and the rough chorus line , via WhatsApp , to the artist they ’ re collaborating with , who then records a solo and sends it back to them .
Recording starts at sundown , which affords the best light , but on at least one occasion they wound up singing in the dark ( “ We didn ’ t like the takes ” ) .
Judging from their output , you wouldn ’ t know @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Version seven , featuring the dazzling Venezuelan singer Ahyvin Bruno , may be their best yet—a Cuban son , an Afro-Caribbean style , on which Stroink and Boltó play trumpet and trombone with cup mutes .
Once a song is uploaded , they clock out—a solid day ’ s work .
“ Then , finally , ” Stroink said , “ we ’ re free and can go watch Netflix.
” • How to practice social distancing , from responding to a sick housemate to the pros and cons of ordering food .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ customs amid a pandemic .
• What it means to contain and mitigate the coronavirus outbreak .
• How much of the world is likely to be quarantined ?
• Donald Trump in the time of coronavirus .
• The coronavirus is likely to spread for more than a year before a vaccine could be widely available .
• We are all irrational panic shoppers .
• The strange terror of watching the coronavirus take Rome .

Earlier this month, when the Spanish government ordered a national lockdown in response to the coronavirus, Rai Benet, Klaus Stroink, and Guillem Boltó, Catalan musicians in their twenties, who share an apartment with a rooftop terrace in Barcelona, did the only logical thing. They took a trumpet, trombone, and guitar upstairs, along with some beers, and started to riff. “It wasn’t anything serious,” Stroink told me. “We were just trying to come up with some lyrics about the quarantine.” A few drinks in, they hit on a bossa-nova tune, with a smattering of words in Portuguese and some gentle, Brazilian-style patter. Not all the harmonies quite lined up, and they blanked on some lyrics while singing. But they recorded themselves anyway, then posted an Instagram story, to entertain other friends who were stuck inside.
The “likes” rolled in, and the next day they carried on, this time with a reggae beat and a chorus line in English (“Please stay homa. / Don’t want the corona. / It’s O.K. to be alona.”) Midway through the song, Stroink pulled out a cell phone to reveal a friend, the reggae singer Sr. Wilson, who performed a rap solo from his own apartment. Word started to spread in the Catalan music scene, and, as other artists offered to collaborate, the three watched as their social-media accounts went from having a few thousand followers to tens of thousands, practically overnight. Now they have a dedicated Instagram page (@stay.homas), Twitter account, and YouTube channel devoted to the project—a series of songs, in different languages and genres, about the lockdown. As of this writing, they’ve posted nine. “Maybe you can forget for a moment that everything is so strange and dramatic,” Stroink told me. “But we also want to give a message of responsibility: ‘Please stay home. Do what the authorities say!’ ”
There’s a song sung in a rumba style (galloping beat, hand-clapping) that opens with the lines Yo pensaba que la corona era una cerveza. / Yo pensaba que la corona era para la princesa (“I thought corona was just a beer. / I thought corona was something for a princess to wear”). (Corona is Spanish for “crown.”) One song is modelled on trap music (heavy beat, synthesizer); another, featuring the Catalan singer Judit Neddermann, is a blend of gospel, soul, and doo-wop. They sing it in English, with a hitch or two. They only learned later, for instance, that “confination” wasn’t an actual word. It still sounded good: “I got to be patient, so let’s enjoy this confination.”
Each song requires multiple takes, and hours of preparation. The degree of difficulty increases every day. How many puns can you invent about a pandemic? “We wake up and have no fucking clue what we’re going to do. We make some coffee and sit with the guitar,” Stroink said. Then they not only have to perfect the song but learn the musical parts and memorize the lyrics. They send the chord changes and the rough chorus line, via WhatsApp, to the artist they’re collaborating with, who then records a solo and sends it back to them. Recording starts at sundown, which affords the best light, but on at least one occasion they wound up singing in the dark (“We didn’t like the takes”). Judging from their output, you wouldn’t know that the songwriting is getting harder. Version seven, featuring the dazzling Venezuelan singer Ahyvin Bruno, may be their best yet—a Cuban son, an Afro-Caribbean style, on which Stroink and Boltó play trumpet and trombone with cup mutes. Once a song is uploaded, they clock out—a solid day’s work. “Then, finally,” Stroink said, “we’re free and can go watch Netflix.”
A Guide to the Coronavirus


newyorker--2020-03-25--Coronavirus-Quarantine Diary: “Yoga With Adriene”

I ’ m not exactly what you would call an athletic person .
In the story I ’ ve always told myself about myself—a tale endlessly fascinating to me , and surely less than fascinating to others—my aptitude lay in the head rather than in the body .
From a young age , I knew that I liked to read and write , and to think about reading and writing , and those tendencies , coupled with what I saw as my essential corporeal clumsiness , led me to feel that any type of sustained physical activity must not be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ speaking , a high achiever , and exercise was not an area in which I was likely to achieve , so what was the point , exactly ?
“ I like to sit , ” I would sometimes tell people , when asked what my favorite sport was .
I ’ m nothing if not consistent , and my own personal mind-body problem held strong and stubborn for many years .
As I ’ ve grown older , however , I noticed my will beginning to soften a bit .
I was still @ @ @ @ @ @ @ learning to swim , who never quite grasped how to ride a bike , who strolled rather than dashed the two-thousand-metre run in my physical-education senior-year finals , but I was also aware that I was , increasingly , an aging adult with a stiff back , slack muscles , and a cardiovascular system desperately in need of a workout .
And so , periodically , I would resolve to make an effort .
I ran outside ; I swam ; I played squash ; I joined a gym and left it and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in all of these activities , and most if not all of them fell by the wayside .
Then my friend Vanessa told me about the “ Yoga With Adriene ” YouTube channel .
In the past few years , Adriene Mishler , who is based in Austin , has become widely known for her videos , in which she leads viewers in gentle but invigorating yoga routines .
( Mishler offers these videos for free on her popular channel , whose subscribers now number more than six million . )
There is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ videos : you are not pushed to any personal physical limit , and no promises of extreme bodily or psychic transformations are made .
To do a “ Yoga With Adriene ” video is to do just a little—the routines rarely last longer than forty minutes , and most clock in at the ten-to-twenty-five-minute mark .
But it is precisely this relative modesty—which might admittedly be considered a drawback by more hardcore exercisers—that I find most attractive about Mishler ’ s regimen .
This , and her soothing voice , calm instructional style @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to mention the presence of her near-constant sidekick Benji , a serene blue heeler ) , is what allows me to come back to the yoga mat rather than shove it into a dark closet in a flurry of frustration and self-loathing .
In these odd and destabilizing days of coronavirus-induced self-quarantine—anxious and restless and boring all at once—there is nothing that I would recommend more highly than a spot of “ Yoga With Adriene.
” Every year , on January 1st , Mishler offers a thirty-day challenge , centered on a particular @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ home ” —in retrospect , a prescient choice—and , since I ’ ve been nowhere but in the past days , I ’ ve found myself drawn to the videos from this monthlong schedule .
Coming to the mat for a few minutes each day provides a sense of structure and routine that ’ s otherwise missing in our current shapeless reality .
Whether you are , like me , not very connected to your physicality , or even if you ’ ve just forgotten what it feels like to be a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Mishler ’ s routines allow for the creation of a consistent , sustainable meeting point with your fleshly self .
Her videos make a small but meaningful space in which to feel , say , one ’ s hamstrings stretch minorly but pleasurably , and to know that , at least for now , that is enough .
• How to practice social distancing , from responding to a sick housemate to the pros and cons of ordering food .
• How people cope and create new customs amid a pandemic .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ mitigate the coronavirus outbreak .
• How much of the world is likely to be quarantined ?
• Donald Trump in the time of coronavirus .
• The coronavirus is likely to spread for more than a year before a vaccine could be widely available .
• We are all irrational panic shoppers .
• The strange terror of watching the coronavirus take Rome .

I’m not exactly what you would call an athletic person. In the story I’ve always told myself about myself—a tale endlessly fascinating to me, and surely less than fascinating to others—my aptitude lay in the head rather than in the body. From a young age, I knew that I liked to read and write, and to think about reading and writing, and those tendencies, coupled with what I saw as my essential corporeal clumsiness, led me to feel that any type of sustained physical activity must not be for me. I was, generally speaking, a high achiever, and exercise was not an area in which I was likely to achieve, so what was the point, exactly? “I like to sit,” I would sometimes tell people, when asked what my favorite sport was.
I’m nothing if not consistent, and my own personal mind-body problem held strong and stubborn for many years. As I’ve grown older, however, I noticed my will beginning to soften a bit. I was still the kid who had a difficult time learning to swim, who never quite grasped how to ride a bike, who strolled rather than dashed the two-thousand-metre run in my physical-education senior-year finals, but I was also aware that I was, increasingly, an aging adult with a stiff back, slack muscles, and a cardiovascular system desperately in need of a workout. And so, periodically, I would resolve to make an effort. I ran outside; I swam; I played squash; I joined a gym and left it and then joined it again. I struggled in all of these activities, and most if not all of them fell by the wayside. Then my friend Vanessa told me about the “Yoga With Adriene” YouTube channel.
In the past few years, Adriene Mishler, who is based in Austin, has become widely known for her videos, in which she leads viewers in gentle but invigorating yoga routines. (Mishler offers these videos for free on her popular channel, whose subscribers now number more than six million.) There is nothing especially radical about Mishler’s videos: you are not pushed to any personal physical limit, and no promises of extreme bodily or psychic transformations are made. To do a “Yoga With Adriene” video is to do just a little—the routines rarely last longer than forty minutes, and most clock in at the ten-to-twenty-five-minute mark. But it is precisely this relative modesty—which might admittedly be considered a drawback by more hardcore exercisers—that I find most attractive about Mishler’s regimen. This, and her soothing voice, calm instructional style, and occasional goofy jokes (not to mention the presence of her near-constant sidekick Benji, a serene blue heeler), is what allows me to come back to the yoga mat rather than shove it into a dark closet in a flurry of frustration and self-loathing.
In these odd and destabilizing days of coronavirus-induced self-quarantine—anxious and restless and boring all at once—there is nothing that I would recommend more highly than a spot of “Yoga With Adriene.” Every year, on January 1st, Mishler offers a thirty-day challenge, centered on a particular theme. This year’s was “home”—in retrospect, a prescient choice—and, since I’ve been nowhere but in the past days, I’ve found myself drawn to the videos from this monthlong schedule. Coming to the mat for a few minutes each day provides a sense of structure and routine that’s otherwise missing in our current shapeless reality. Whether you are, like me, not very connected to your physicality, or even if you’ve just forgotten what it feels like to be a body under quarantine’s spatial restrictions, Mishler’s routines allow for the creation of a consistent, sustainable meeting point with your fleshly self. Her videos make a small but meaningful space in which to feel, say, one’s hamstrings stretch minorly but pleasurably, and to know that, at least for now, that is enough.
A Guide to the Coronavirus


newyorker--2020-03-25--Welcome to Life Through the Looking Glass

This has been a “ Through the Looking-Glass ” few days .
The streets are abandoned .
But not the @ @ @ @ @ As co-parents , my ex and I have been managing our son ’ s newly @ @ @ @ @ unprecedented coöperation , tag-teaming and ( most importantly ) keeping his tablet charged .
Boredom @ @ @ @ @ some of my neighbors to desperation .
Socializing on the streets .
Even exercise !
@ @ @ @ @ that a few people have yet to master .
But it ’ s encouraging to @ @ @ @ @ No need to feel isolated .
Friends are a text , a FaceTime , or @ @ @ @ @ phone call away .
I was inspired to reach out to a couple of exes @ @ @ @ @ some things that keep me grounded .

This has been a “Through the Looking-Glass” few days. The streets are abandoned.
But not the Whole Foods parking lot.
As co-parents, my ex and I have been managing our son’s newly school-free and shut-in life with unprecedented coöperation, tag-teaming and (most importantly) keeping his tablet charged.
Boredom and forced closures have driven some of my neighbors to desperation. Socializing on the streets. Even exercise!
Social distancing is an art that a few people have yet to master.
But it’s encouraging to have people check in. No need to feel isolated. Friends are a text, a FaceTime, or even an actual, old-fashioned phone call away. I was inspired to reach out to a couple of exes.
Thankfully, there are some things that keep me grounded.


newyorker--2020-03-25--A Peace Corps Volunteer’s Evacuation Video Diary

Paula Ospina was in the final months of her two-year assignment as a Peace Corps volunteer in Senegal , where she was working on community-health projects , when the coronavirus reached West Africa .
In late February , she received her first e-mail about the now worldwide coronavirus outbreak from her Peace Corps country director .
Over the next few weeks , Ospina received a series of quickly changing updates , eventually culminating in a notice of evacuation—the first time that the Peace Corps had ever gone through an agency-wide evacuation since it was established , in 1961 .
As @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Ospina began documenting the events on her phone ; the video above offers a visual diary of her journey home .
On March 17th , Ospina received a phone call with instructions to meet the following day , with all of her belongings , at a hotel—the first meeting point in a series of stops on her way back to the U.S .
The next day , she said a hurried goodbye to a local woman with whom she had worked closely in the village , who offered consolation : “ It is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ leaves , she is going to call me ; then she will come back.
” Later , in the city of Thiès , a woman informed Ospina and a group of volunteers that they would be leaving that evening , March 20th , hours before Senegal restricted air travel .
Ospina landed in the U.S. on the morning of Saturday , March 21st , around 2 A.M.—it was not the gradual adjustment to life on the outside that she had been planning before the pandemic .
“ As much as I was preparing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ never thought that this was going to be my homecoming , ” she wrote in an e-mail .
More than seven thousand Peace Corps volunteers have been evacuated in response to the pandemic , and they are all spending their first two weeks back at home in self-quarantine .
“ It currently feels like we are at an Airbnb hanging out before heading back to [ the ] village , ” she wrote , as she began the two weeks with three of her fellow-volunteers .
After quarantine , she says , she @ @ @ @ @ @ @ readjust back to American life as much as possible.
” The home she ’ ll be returning to will certainly still be adjusting , too .

Paula Ospina was in the final months of her two-year assignment as a Peace Corps volunteer in Senegal, where she was working on community-health projects, when the coronavirus reached West Africa. In late February, she received her first e-mail about the now worldwide coronavirus outbreak from her Peace Corps country director. Over the next few weeks, Ospina received a series of quickly changing updates, eventually culminating in a notice of evacuation—the first time that the Peace Corps had ever gone through an agency-wide evacuation since it was established, in 1961. As the volunteers prepared for their evacuation, Ospina began documenting the events on her phone; the video above offers a visual diary of her journey home.
On March 17th, Ospina received a phone call with instructions to meet the following day, with all of her belongings, at a hotel—the first meeting point in a series of stops on her way back to the U.S. The next day, she said a hurried goodbye to a local woman with whom she had worked closely in the village, who offered consolation: “It is not a big deal. If she leaves, she is going to call me; then she will come back.” Later, in the city of Thiès, a woman informed Ospina and a group of volunteers that they would be leaving that evening, March 20th, hours before Senegal restricted air travel. Ospina landed in the U.S. on the morning of Saturday, March 21st, around 2 A.M.—it was not the gradual adjustment to life on the outside that she had been planning before the pandemic. “As much as I was preparing myself mentally to come home, I never thought that this was going to be my homecoming,” she wrote in an e-mail.
More than seven thousand Peace Corps volunteers have been evacuated in response to the pandemic, and they are all spending their first two weeks back at home in self-quarantine. “It currently feels like we are at an Airbnb hanging out before heading back to [the] village,” she wrote, as she began the two weeks with three of her fellow-volunteers. After quarantine, she says, she will head home and “hope to readjust back to American life as much as possible.” The home she’ll be returning to will certainly still be adjusting, too.


newyorker--2020-03-25--Breaking Transmission: The Fight Against the Coronavirus Offers a Strategy for Cutting Carbon

We ’ ve all learned a good deal about epidemiology in the past few weeks .
In particular , the notion that staying at home can break chains of transmission , and thereby interrupt the spread of the coronavirus , is now ingrained in the minds of anyone who hasn ’ t been watching Fox News exclusively .
My favorite graphic description of that action looks like this .
And , in places such as South Korea , there are signs that it ’ s begun to work .
Once you see something , you start seeing it everywhere .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ a fine new book , “ Citizen Outlaw , ” about a New Haven gang leader turned gang-outreach officer who , by talking down revenge-minded young men , manages to interrupt the cycle of retaliation .
“ Jumping in at exactly the right time makes all the difference , ” the author , Charles Barber , explains .
Barber , who has written extensively on mental-health and criminal-justice issues , cites studies showing that , otherwise , a single death can lead to a cascade of violence .
In an Illinois study , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that was linked through the victim ’ s social networks to 469 separate violent incidents.
” The coronavirus and gang violence are both examples of public-health problems where interrupting the spread of something , once you figure out how to do it , is fairly intuitive .
But the logic holds , I think , for other realms , including the fight against climate change .
The mental image of breaking chains of transmission helps me understand intellectually some of the work that activists have been doing in the past decade , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ forward .
About ten years ago—after the defeat of congressional efforts to tackle climate change by pricing carbon , through the Waxman-Markey bill—activists began working on a series of much smaller interventions .
People in groups including 350.org ( which I helped found ) joined indigenous groups and farmers who were already fighting the Keystone XL pipeline , which was intended to carry tar-sands oil from Alberta to the Gulf Coast , and made it a national issue .
They also began asking institutions to divest their stock holdings from fossil fuels .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
An opinion piece in the Washington Post said that the Keystone fight was “ an irrational and insulting litmus test for seriousness about climate change ” that “ made the environmental movement look capricious and immature ” because “ the real , formidable task ” was “ transitioning the economy onto low- and no-emissions technology.
” An allied group of doubters—the “ that bus you took to the protest runs on gasoline !
” critics—said that , instead , the emphasis should be on working to reduce people ’ s emissions .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ those actions were attempts to cut the chains of transmission that allowed the fossil-fuel industry to keep expanding .
The Keystone fight was successful in stopping that pipeline , at least so far .
( Barack Obama rejected the pipeline and , though Trump quickly reversed his ruling , the work has not been completed .
This week , tribal groups are demanding the end to construction “ man camps , ” in light of the virus . )
The delay has been very useful : it has meant eight hundred thousand barrels @ @ @ @ @ @ @ earth not flowing down through Nebraska .
But by itself , obviously , stopping the pipeline wouldn ’ t turn the tide against climate change .
The good news is that , as people watched that protest , they decided to fight everything else , too : now no fracking wells or coal mines or liquefied-natural-gas terminals get built without a fight .
The most compelling of those battles—the standoff over the Dakota Access Pipeline at Standing Rock , the kayaktivist blockade of Shell ’ s Arctic drilling rigs in Seattle and Portland @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the globe every day similar fights are under way .
They ’ ve slowed the growth of the fossil-fuels complex : the government of Alberta expected oil production in the tar sands to have quadrupled by this year , but , without pipelines to carry the crude , it has had to impose production restrictions .
Similarly , divestment began small .
The first institution to divest , Unity College , in Maine , had a twelve-million-dollar endowment .
Now funds worth more than twelve trillion dollars have divested from fossil fuels , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with making their expansion difficult ; it ’ s a brake on their acceleration .
This is not the same , of course , as solving the problem , any more than slowing the spread of coronavirus makes people healthy .
COVID-19 could just miraculously vanish ( President Trump ’ s predicted solution ) , but we ’ d still have an unhealthy America .
There is a great deal of work to be done , on everything from health-care access to opioid addiction and nutrition .
That kind of work is perhaps @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s utterly necessary that there are people working on the Green New Deal—and , this week , on a green economic stimulus .
And engineers and entrepreneurs need to continue to make solar power cheaper .
Over time , these are the more important tasks than protest .
But the success of that work depends on everyone else coming together in broad movements to break the political and economic power of the fossil-fuel industry .
This means that we should keep looking for pressure points and opening up gaps in the chain @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Recently , there has been a movement to get banks , asset managers , and insurance companies to stop steering cash to the carbon companies .
And it ’ s beginning to work—financial institutions have started to limit their investments in coal-fired power , in Arctic drilling , and in the tar sands .
None of this works overnight , or entirely : as with the coronavirus , relaxing vigilance means that transmission recurs .
But it ’ s good to have a mental map of where we ’ re headed .
If @ @ @ @ @ @ @ microbe , we can learn to slow the carbon molecule .
• How to practice social distancing , from responding to a sick housemate to the pros and cons of ordering food .
• How people cope and create new customs amid a pandemic .
• What it means to contain and mitigate the coronavirus outbreak .
• How much of the world is likely to be quarantined ?

We’ve all learned a good deal about epidemiology in the past few weeks. In particular, the notion that staying at home can break chains of transmission, and thereby interrupt the spread of the coronavirus, is now ingrained in the minds of anyone who hasn’t been watching Fox News exclusively. My favorite graphic description of that action looks like this. And, in places such as South Korea, there are signs that it’s begun to work.
Once you see something, you start seeing it everywhere. Over the weekend, I was reading a fine new book, “Citizen Outlaw,” about a New Haven gang leader turned gang-outreach officer who, by talking down revenge-minded young men, manages to interrupt the cycle of retaliation. “Jumping in at exactly the right time makes all the difference,” the author, Charles Barber, explains. Barber, who has written extensively on mental-health and criminal-justice issues, cites studies showing that, otherwise, a single death can lead to a cascade of violence. In an Illinois study, for instance, “a single incident that was linked through the victim’s social networks to 469 separate violent incidents.”
The coronavirus and gang violence are both examples of public-health problems where interrupting the spread of something, once you figure out how to do it, is fairly intuitive. But the logic holds, I think, for other realms, including the fight against climate change. The mental image of breaking chains of transmission helps me understand intellectually some of the work that activists have been doing in the past decade, and suggests strongly some paths to follow going forward.
About ten years ago—after the defeat of congressional efforts to tackle climate change by pricing carbon, through the Waxman-Markey bill—activists began working on a series of much smaller interventions. People in groups including 350.org (which I helped found) joined indigenous groups and farmers who were already fighting the Keystone XL pipeline, which was intended to carry tar-sands oil from Alberta to the Gulf Coast, and made it a national issue. They also began asking institutions to divest their stock holdings from fossil fuels.
Many pundits thought such approaches were futile. An opinion piece in the Washington Post said that the Keystone fight was “an irrational and insulting litmus test for seriousness about climate change” that “made the environmental movement look capricious and immature” because “the real, formidable task” was “transitioning the economy onto low- and no-emissions technology.” An allied group of doubters—the “that bus you took to the protest runs on gasoline!” critics—said that, instead, the emphasis should be on working to reduce people’s emissions.
In retrospect, it turns out that those actions were attempts to cut the chains of transmission that allowed the fossil-fuel industry to keep expanding. The Keystone fight was successful in stopping that pipeline, at least so far. (Barack Obama rejected the pipeline and, though Trump quickly reversed his ruling, the work has not been completed. This week, tribal groups are demanding the end to construction “man camps,” in light of the virus.) The delay has been very useful: it has meant eight hundred thousand barrels a day of the dirtiest oil on earth not flowing down through Nebraska. But by itself, obviously, stopping the pipeline wouldn’t turn the tide against climate change. The good news is that, as people watched that protest, they decided to fight everything else, too: now no fracking wells or coal mines or liquefied-natural-gas terminals get built without a fight. The most compelling of those battles—the standoff over the Dakota Access Pipeline at Standing Rock, the kayaktivist blockade of Shell’s Arctic drilling rigs in Seattle and Portland harbors—get lots of coverage, but around the globe every day similar fights are under way. They’ve slowed the growth of the fossil-fuels complex: the government of Alberta expected oil production in the tar sands to have quadrupled by this year, but, without pipelines to carry the crude, it has had to impose production restrictions.
Similarly, divestment began small. The first institution to divest, Unity College, in Maine, had a twelve-million-dollar endowment. Now funds worth more than twelve trillion dollars have divested from fossil fuels, and oil and coal companies credit that with making their expansion difficult; it’s a brake on their acceleration. This is not the same, of course, as solving the problem, any more than slowing the spread of coronavirus makes people healthy. COVID-19 could just miraculously vanish (President Trump’s predicted solution), but we’d still have an unhealthy America. There is a great deal of work to be done, on everything from health-care access to opioid addiction and nutrition. That kind of work is perhaps harder, and definitely different. It’s utterly necessary that there are people working on the Green New Deal—and, this week, on a green economic stimulus. And engineers and entrepreneurs need to continue to make solar power cheaper. Over time, these are the more important tasks than protest. But the success of that work depends on everyone else coming together in broad movements to break the political and economic power of the fossil-fuel industry.
This means that we should keep looking for pressure points and opening up gaps in the chain that keeps the planet-wrecking industry thriving. Recently, there has been a movement to get banks, asset managers, and insurance companies to stop steering cash to the carbon companies. And it’s beginning to work—financial institutions have started to limit their investments in coal-fired power, in Arctic drilling, and in the tar sands. None of this works overnight, or entirely: as with the coronavirus, relaxing vigilance means that transmission recurs. But it’s good to have a mental map of where we’re headed. If we can learn to slow the coronavirus microbe, we can learn to slow the carbon molecule.
A Guide to the Coronavirus


newyorker--2020-03-25--Fauci Tricks Trump Into Believing There Is No Easter This Year

WASHINGTON ( The Borowitz Report ) —Taking bold action to safeguard the health of millions of Americans , Dr. Anthony Fauci has tricked Donald J. Trump into believing that there is no Easter this year , Fauci has confirmed .
After hearing Trump declare on Tuesday that he hoped to reopen the country on Easter Sunday , an alarmed Fauci decided to spring into action .
“ I ran down to my computer and mocked up a phony 2020 calendar with no Easter on it , ” Fauci said .
“ Then I showed it to Trump and said , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ your plan , Mr. President .
There ’ s no Easter this year.
’ ” According to Fauci , Trump was initially baffled by the news .
“ How could that be ?
” Trump asked .
“ There ’ s Easter every year.
” “ I guess I didn ’ t know it worked that way , ” Trump said .
“ I never go to church.
” Fauci consoled Trump by telling him that , if all goes according to plan , the country could be reopened in time for Easter @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Trump appeared somewhat reluctantly to accept .
The esteemed epidemiologist said that his dealings with Trump have now entered a new phase .
“ I ’ ve given up on containment , and I ’ m just doing mitigation , ” he said .

WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—Taking bold action to safeguard the health of millions of Americans, Dr. Anthony Fauci has tricked Donald J. Trump into believing that there is no Easter this year, Fauci has confirmed.
After hearing Trump declare on Tuesday that he hoped to reopen the country on Easter Sunday, an alarmed Fauci decided to spring into action.
“I ran down to my computer and mocked up a phony 2020 calendar with no Easter on it,” Fauci said. “Then I showed it to Trump and said, ‘There’s a problem with your plan, Mr. President. There’s no Easter this year.’”
According to Fauci, Trump was initially baffled by the news. “How could that be?” Trump asked. “There’s Easter every year.”
“This is a leap year,” the quick-thinking virologist replied.
“I guess I didn’t know it worked that way,” Trump said. “I never go to church.”
Fauci consoled Trump by telling him that, if all goes according to plan, the country could be reopened in time for Easter Sunday, 2021, a suggestion that Trump appeared somewhat reluctantly to accept.
The esteemed epidemiologist said that his dealings with Trump have now entered a new phase. “I’ve given up on containment, and I’m just doing mitigation,” he said.


newyorker--2020-03-25--Quarantine Culture Recommendations: Knitting, “Diary of a Wimpy Kid,” and Melvyn Bragg

Recommendations from New Yorker writers and artists for this time of social distancing .
Knitting isn ’ t just a way to pass the time that ’ s not spent reading news about the apocalypse—it ’ s an activity that requires intense mental focus , a hunger for learning , and a willingness to follow instructions meticulously .
It engages your brain in a way that is at once low stakes , meditative , and highly productive .
In her 1988 cultural history of knitting , “ No Idle Hands , ” the writer Anne L. Macdonald points out that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ been cited as a cure for all sorts of compulsions and afflictions , including “ nervousness , agoraphobia , rheumatism , insomnia , smoking , mental strain , and guilt.
” Before COVID-19 , I would have written off these claims as dubious .
Now , though , as the doom of a pandemic threatens to undermine our collective mental health as much as our physical well-being , I understand knitting ’ s palliative power .
—Carrie Battan I had some high-minded viewing recommendations to share , but in truth the only thing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ through , since the crisis escalated , is “ Diary of a Wimpy Kid : The Long Haul , ” a road movie that relentlessly skewers meme makers and celebrity video gamers , red-state cuisine and helicopter parenting , with loads of literal bathroom humor at every turn .
It took me a moment to realize that the mom of Greg , the Wimpy Kid , is played by Alicia Silverstone ; it ’ s surely her best comic performance since “ Clueless.
” Also great is Greg ’ s dopey metalhead brother @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like a cross between a young Keanu Reeves and Adam Driver ) .
It could be that our reality has changed so much that my critical faculties have gone haywire ; after all , the film has a scant eighteen-per-cent Tomatometer rating .
But I think everybody is wrong and I am right .
This is a real gem—one of the most deeply enjoyable pure comedies I ’ ve seen in years .
( Confession : I make it sound like I just chanced upon this in the on-demand selections , but I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Remember theatres ? )
—Ed Park My go-to listening for the moment is the BBC ’ s “ In Our Time , ” a weekly podcast from Radio 4 , Britain ’ s equivalent of NPR , hosted by Melvyn Bragg .
It ’ s got none of the slick production values and storytelling tropes we ’ ve come to expect from the medium—there ’ s no specially composed music , no cliffhangers , no hosts with vocal fry .
Instead , there ’ s Bragg , a veteran broadcaster , author , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , who conducts a small roundtable of big-brained academics and critics to discuss a historical , scientific , ethical , or philosophical topic .
Rather than keeping up with the terrifying news cycle , I ’ ve been browsing the program ’ s twenty-year archive , exploring bits of British history I ’ ve forgotten or never really knew .
Why is there an aristocracy ?
What was the Field of the Cloth of Gold ?
I would like to think that listening to professorial types with plummy accents , speaking in whole @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , but let ’ s be honest : it ’ s self-sedation .
—Rebecca Mead • How to practice social distancing , from responding to a sick housemate to the pros and cons of ordering food .
• How people cope and create new customs amid a pandemic .
• What it means to contain and mitigate the coronavirus outbreak .
• How much of the world is likely to be quarantined ?
• Donald Trump in the time of coronavirus .
• The coronavirus is likely to spread for more than a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ available .
• We are all irrational panic shoppers .
• The strange terror of watching the coronavirus take Rome .

Recommendations from New Yorker writers and artists for this time of social distancing.
Knitting isn’t just a way to pass the time that’s not spent reading news about the apocalypse—it’s an activity that requires intense mental focus, a hunger for learning, and a willingness to follow instructions meticulously. It engages your brain in a way that is at once low stakes, meditative, and highly productive. In her 1988 cultural history of knitting, “No Idle Hands,” the writer Anne L. Macdonald points out that knitting has, in the past, been cited as a cure for all sorts of compulsions and afflictions, including “nervousness, agoraphobia, rheumatism, insomnia, smoking, mental strain, and guilt.” Before COVID-19, I would have written off these claims as dubious. Now, though, as the doom of a pandemic threatens to undermine our collective mental health as much as our physical well-being, I understand knitting’s palliative power.—Carrie Battan
I had some high-minded viewing recommendations to share, but in truth the only thing I’ve watched all the way through, since the crisis escalated, is “Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul,” a road movie that relentlessly skewers meme makers and celebrity video gamers, red-state cuisine and helicopter parenting, with loads of literal bathroom humor at every turn. It took me a moment to realize that the mom of Greg, the Wimpy Kid, is played by Alicia Silverstone; it’s surely her best comic performance since “Clueless.” Also great is Greg’s dopey metalhead brother, Rodrick (Charlie Wright, looking like a cross between a young Keanu Reeves and Adam Driver). It could be that our reality has changed so much that my critical faculties have gone haywire; after all, the film has a scant eighteen-per-cent Tomatometer rating. But I think everybody is wrong and I am right. This is a real gem—one of the most deeply enjoyable pure comedies I’ve seen in years. (Confession: I make it sound like I just chanced upon this in the on-demand selections, but I saw it twice in the theatre. Remember theatres?)—Ed Park
My go-to listening for the moment is the BBC’s “In Our Time,” a weekly podcast from Radio 4, Britain’s equivalent of NPR, hosted by Melvyn Bragg. It’s got none of the slick production values and storytelling tropes we’ve come to expect from the medium—there’s no specially composed music, no cliffhangers, no hosts with vocal fry. Instead, there’s Bragg, a veteran broadcaster, author, and member of the House of Lords, who conducts a small roundtable of big-brained academics and critics to discuss a historical, scientific, ethical, or philosophical topic. Rather than keeping up with the terrifying news cycle, I’ve been browsing the program’s twenty-year archive, exploring bits of British history I’ve forgotten or never really knew. Why is there an aristocracy? What was the Field of the Cloth of Gold? I would like to think that listening to professorial types with plummy accents, speaking in whole sentences, is a form of self-education, but let’s be honest: it’s self-sedation.—Rebecca Mead
Previous recommendations: Thomas Mann, “The Wedding Party,” and Tracy Chapman.
A Guide to the Coronavirus


newyorker--2020-03-25--The Coronavirus and the Importance of Giving Science the Time It Needs

Of the thousand or so new lessons learned every day in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic , none perhaps is harder to accept than the scientific reluctance to endorse potential therapies and treatments that seem to hold out immediate hope for relief .
Take , for example , Donald Trump ’ s recent promoting of antimalarial drugs that show supposed , if limited , efficacy against COVID-19 .
Trump ’ s enthusiasm was instantly recognizable as a con man ’ s desire to draw a mark ’ s attention away from the changing nature of the come-on ; if @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , they may not be able to turn their eyes away from the new con long enough to see where the old one went .
Still , it ’ s natural to ask : Wouldn ’ t it be better to give something that seems to show some promise a chance ?
The urge to believe so , at such a moment , is human .
Trump understands the precise vulnerability of his audience : Isn ’ t all the procedural stuff really just expert overkill , red tape , bureaucratic delay ?
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ to a microphone to tell a reporter , as he did at Trump ’ s press briefing on Friday , “ The information that you ’ re referring to specifically is anecdotal .
It was not done in a controlled clinical trial , so you really can ’ t make any definitive statement about it , ” he can seem the voice not of reason but of bureaucratic caution .
Not surprisingly , Fauci ’ s caution in this case was swiftly seconded , with regard to the antimalarial drug chloroquine .
Gaetan @ @ @ @ @ @ @ National University , did a particularly crisp analysis in a Twitter thread that , though written very much in sciencespeak , was intelligible to amateurs , and confirmed that the evidence is anecdotal and a clinical trial presumably showing the drug ’ s efficacy for this application is , at best , half-baked .
That doesn ’ t mean that the evidence is false , just that it ’ s incomplete .
Meanwhile , an enthusiastic supporting document , much circulated on right-wing Web sites , supposedly coming from Stanford Medical School , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ School or any other school .
This doesn ’ t prove that the drug won ’ t work in some way—who wouldn ’ t hope that it would ?
But it shows that we don ’ t know that it will .
Beneath all this remains the deeper question that many people are grappling with , even if they shun Trump ’ s bad faith : Why wait for studies when people are suffering and dying now ?
The answer is a hard one to give , since it seems hard-hearted : if @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ re doing , we may do far more harm than good .
( Meanwhile , Burgio , and many others , have noted dangerous and potentially lethal chloroquine overdoses . )
Plagues and pandemics are huge events affecting enormous populations ; we need to battle them not impulsively but with an eye to the future course of the disease .
This will save more lives in more places over a longer period of time , scientists tell us , even if it seems cold-blooded now .
The brutal but essential logic of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dramatized than it was in a now mostly forgotten novel , by the now mostly forgotten American novelist Sinclair Lewis .
Literary reputations have their own evolutionary pressures .
This week , there was a hoax involving another novelist , F. Scott Fitzgerald , a contemporary of Lewis ’ s , whose work , unlike Lewis ’ s , has proved so hardy that his name and his life are emblematic of the nineteen-twenties generation .
The hoax involved a letter that Fitzgerald allegedly wrote in 1920 while he was quarantined in Europe @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The hoax was actually a well-meant parody from McSweeney ’ s , and was readily recognizable as such , because it was too characteristic .
When something ticks off every box—in this case , liquor , Zelda , starlight , etc.—it ’ s almost always a phony .
Fitzgerald ’ s fame made every reader recognize the elements . )
Lewis is mostly unread now both for reasons sound—he was a satirist first and a stylist second , and stylists tend to last after the satirists ’ targets have passed—and unsound—he wrote a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on outré experience than on the passing scene and the issues of the day , which modernist literary taste found fatuous .
But , when Trump came to power , Lewis ’ s 1935 novel , “ It Can ’ t Happen Here , ” seemed newly relevant .
And , in “ Arrowsmith , ” a much better novel , from 1925—which propelled Lewis , five years later , to the Nobel Prize in Literature , the first given to any American—he wrote the best American novel we have about plague science @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of literature to life , think of the necessity of reading in the past week alone : novels are the condensed history of our lived experience .
They are our past made poetic . )
The novel ’ s protagonist , and namesake , is Martin Arrowsmith , a young Midwestern doctor who , inspired by a German-American immunologist named Max Gottlieb , becomes a research scientist .
After many misadventures in academia , including one at a New York institute modelled on the then new Rockefeller Institute , he develops a treatment @ @ @ @ @ @ @ When he learns of an outbreak of bubonic plague in the fictitious West Indian island of St. Hubert , he decides to go there to test his medicine .
As he goes , his mind and heart are divided in a kind of psychomachia between the science-minded Gottlieb , who tells him , “ If I could trust you , Martin , to use the phage with only half your patients and keep the others as controls , under normal hygienic conditions but without the phage , then you could make an absolute @ @ @ @ @ @ @ what we have of mosquito transmission of yellow fever , ” and another mentor , Gustaf Sondelius , a charismatic Swedish apostle of public health who accompanies Arrowsmith and is determined to give the phage to everyone on the island .
Arrowsmith also has a devoted wife , Leora , who , refusing to play the role of the good little wife , insists on going with him to St. Hubert .
( Lewis was a much more resolute feminist than any of his more modern-mannered contemporaries . )
Lewis has Gottlieb implore @ @ @ @ @ @ @ funniness about humanitarianism as I used to ; sometimes now I t ’ ink the vulgar and contentious human race may yet have as much grace and good taste as the cats .
But if this is to be , there must be knowledge .
So many men , Martin , are kind and neighborly ; so few have added to knowledge .
You have the chance !
” Once on the island , Arrowsmith struggles to maintain the rigor of his experiment , even as the sheer horror and misery of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the population into two equal parts.
” One half “ was injected with plague phage , the other half was left without .
He began to succeed .
He saw far-off India , with its annual four hundred thousand deaths from plague , saved by his efforts .
He heard Max Gottlieb saying , “ Martin , you haf done your experiment .
I am very glat !
” Sondelius dies , after fighting rats .
( “ I want you to see how an agnostic can die !
I am not afraid @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like to see Stockholm , and Fifth Avenue on the day the first snow falls and Holy Week at Sevilla .
And one good last drunk !
.
.
.
Oh , Martin , give my people the phage !
Save all of them.
” ) Then , in one of the most unbearable sequences in American fiction , Leora contracts the plague , by pulling a draw on Martin ’ s cigarette butt .
“ She kept away from the flasks of plague germs , but she picked up , because it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lighted it.
” After she dies , a broken Arrowsmith begins to give the phage to everyone on the island , destroying the experiment .
The plague does diminish , and he is treated as a hero , but no one can really know what made it go away .
Plagues having been known to slacken and die before .
Arrowsmith knows that , even as he is lionized , he is ruined : he “ thought about what unknown , tight-minded scientists in distant laboratories would say of a man who had @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The more they called him the giver of life , the more he felt himself disgraced and a traitor .
”

Of the thousand or so new lessons learned every day in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, none perhaps is harder to accept than the scientific reluctance to endorse potential therapies and treatments that seem to hold out immediate hope for relief. Take, for example, Donald Trump’s recent promoting of antimalarial drugs that show supposed, if limited, efficacy against COVID-19. Trump’s enthusiasm was instantly recognizable as a con man’s desire to draw a mark’s attention away from the changing nature of the come-on; if you gaslight your listeners with enough energy, they may not be able to turn their eyes away from the new con long enough to see where the old one went.
Still, it’s natural to ask: Wouldn’t it be better to give something that seems to show some promise a chance? The urge to believe so, at such a moment, is human. Trump understands the precise vulnerability of his audience: Isn’t all the procedural stuff really just expert overkill, red tape, bureaucratic delay? So, when Anthony Fauci steps grim-faced to a microphone to tell a reporter, as he did at Trump’s press briefing on Friday, “The information that you’re referring to specifically is anecdotal. It was not done in a controlled clinical trial, so you really can’t make any definitive statement about it,” he can seem the voice not of reason but of bureaucratic caution.
Not surprisingly, Fauci’s caution in this case was swiftly seconded, with regard to the antimalarial drug chloroquine. Gaetan Burgio, a geneticist at the Australian National University, did a particularly crisp analysis in a Twitter thread that, though written very much in sciencespeak, was intelligible to amateurs, and confirmed that the evidence is anecdotal and a clinical trial presumably showing the drug’s efficacy for this application is, at best, half-baked. That doesn’t mean that the evidence is false, just that it’s incomplete. Meanwhile, an enthusiastic supporting document, much circulated on right-wing Web sites, supposedly coming from Stanford Medical School, had nothing to do with Stanford Medical School or any other school. This doesn’t prove that the drug won’t work in some way—who wouldn’t hope that it would? But it shows that we don’t know that it will.
Beneath all this remains the deeper question that many people are grappling with, even if they shun Trump’s bad faith: Why wait for studies when people are suffering and dying now? The answer is a hard one to give, since it seems hard-hearted: if we don’t know what we’re doing, we may do far more harm than good. (Meanwhile, Burgio, and many others, have noted dangerous and potentially lethal chloroquine overdoses.) Plagues and pandemics are huge events affecting enormous populations; we need to battle them not impulsively but with an eye to the future course of the disease. This will save more lives in more places over a longer period of time, scientists tell us, even if it seems cold-blooded now.
The brutal but essential logic of plague science has never been more lucidly dramatized than it was in a now mostly forgotten novel, by the now mostly forgotten American novelist Sinclair Lewis.
Literary reputations have their own evolutionary pressures. This week, there was a hoax involving another novelist, F. Scott Fitzgerald, a contemporary of Lewis’s, whose work, unlike Lewis’s, has proved so hardy that his name and his life are emblematic of the nineteen-twenties generation. The hoax involved a letter that Fitzgerald allegedly wrote in 1920 while he was quarantined in Europe during what came to be known as the Spanish-influenza epidemic. (The hoax was actually a well-meant parody from McSweeney’s, and was readily recognizable as such, because it was too characteristic. When something ticks off every box—in this case, liquor, Zelda, starlight, etc.—it’s almost always a phony. Fitzgerald’s fame made every reader recognize the elements.)
Lewis is mostly unread now both for reasons sound—he was a satirist first and a stylist second, and stylists tend to last after the satirists’ targets have passed—and unsound—he wrote a kind of journalistic fiction that depended less on outré experience than on the passing scene and the issues of the day, which modernist literary taste found fatuous. But, when Trump came to power, Lewis’s 1935 novel, “It Can’t Happen Here,” seemed newly relevant. And, in “Arrowsmith,” a much better novel, from 1925—which propelled Lewis, five years later, to the Nobel Prize in Literature, the first given to any American—he wrote the best American novel we have about plague science. (If anyone doubts the relevance of literature to life, think of the necessity of reading in the past week alone: novels are the condensed history of our lived experience. They are our past made poetic.)
The novel’s protagonist, and namesake, is Martin Arrowsmith, a young Midwestern doctor who, inspired by a German-American immunologist named Max Gottlieb, becomes a research scientist. After many misadventures in academia, including one at a New York institute modelled on the then new Rockefeller Institute, he develops a treatment for plague, called “phage.” When he learns of an outbreak of bubonic plague in the fictitious West Indian island of St. Hubert, he decides to go there to test his medicine. As he goes, his mind and heart are divided in a kind of psychomachia between the science-minded Gottlieb, who tells him, “If I could trust you, Martin, to use the phage with only half your patients and keep the others as controls, under normal hygienic conditions but without the phage, then you could make an absolute determination of its value as complete as what we have of mosquito transmission of yellow fever,” and another mentor, Gustaf Sondelius, a charismatic Swedish apostle of public health who accompanies Arrowsmith and is determined to give the phage to everyone on the island.
Arrowsmith also has a devoted wife, Leora, who, refusing to play the role of the good little wife, insists on going with him to St. Hubert. (Lewis was a much more resolute feminist than any of his more modern-mannered contemporaries.) Lewis has Gottlieb implore him: “I do not make funniness about humanitarianism as I used to; sometimes now I t’ink the vulgar and contentious human race may yet have as much grace and good taste as the cats. But if this is to be, there must be knowledge. So many men, Martin, are kind and neighborly; so few have added to knowledge. You have the chance!”
Once on the island, Arrowsmith struggles to maintain the rigor of his experiment, even as the sheer horror and misery of the plague overwhelms him. “He divided the population into two equal parts.” One half “was injected with plague phage, the other half was left without. He began to succeed. He saw far-off India, with its annual four hundred thousand deaths from plague, saved by his efforts. He heard Max Gottlieb saying, “Martin, you haf done your experiment. I am very glat!”
Sondelius dies, after fighting rats. (“I want you to see how an agnostic can die! I am not afraid, but yoost once more I would like to see Stockholm, and Fifth Avenue on the day the first snow falls and Holy Week at Sevilla. And one good last drunk! . . . Oh, Martin, give my people the phage! Save all of them.”) Then, in one of the most unbearable sequences in American fiction, Leora contracts the plague, by pulling a draw on Martin’s cigarette butt. “She kept away from the flasks of plague germs, but she picked up, because it was his, a half-smoked cigarette and lighted it.” After she dies, a broken Arrowsmith begins to give the phage to everyone on the island, destroying the experiment. The plague does diminish, and he is treated as a hero, but no one can really know what made it go away. Plagues having been known to slacken and die before. Arrowsmith knows that, even as he is lionized, he is ruined: he “thought about what unknown, tight-minded scientists in distant laboratories would say of a man who had had his chance and cast it away. The more they called him the giver of life, the more he felt himself disgraced and a traitor.”


newyorker--2020-03-25--The Haunted Jazz of Hank Mobley

The Haunted Jazz of Hank Mobley

The recent release , from Mosaic Records , of the eight-disk set “ The Complete Hank Mobley Blue Note Sessions 1963-70 ” does more than make a significant batch of Mobley ’ s music compendiously available ; it also tells a story of a great artist and of his times .
Mobley , one of the central tenor saxophonists of modern jazz , died in 1986 , at the age of fifty-five , more than a decade after he ’ d stopped regularly recording .
The Mosaic set presents an often thrilling , often depressing vision of an artist whose @ @ @ @ @ @ @ career was being thwarted by the practicalities of the music business .
Though Mobley made these recordings between the ages of thirty-two and forty , many of them nonetheless inhabit the rarefied realm of late work—art that feels as if its creator already has a foot in the beyond .
His performances here , for all their energy , swing , melody , and charm , have a haunted sensibility , as if anticipating end times from however far away .
They represent thirteen recording sessions that led to a dozen albums , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the best ) were released soon after they were recorded—some were chopped up and mixed and matched—which denied Mobley his proper place in the music of his time and left him deeply frustrated .
This release is a welcome chance to revisit Mobley ’ s achievement and honor his legacy .
( The albums gathered in the set are also streaming on Spotify . )
Born in Georgia in 1930 and raised in New Jersey , Mobley got his first major gig in 1951 , with the drummer Max Roach ( and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to prominence in the mid-fifties , in the company of the pianist Horace Silver and the drummer Art Blakey .
He recorded with them for Blue Note , which became Mobley ’ s studio for almost all of his albums ; his first as a leader came in 1955 .
He was a key part of the movement known as “ hard bop , ” which infused the complexities of Charlie Parker , Dizzy Gillespie , and Bud Powell with a strong dose of the fervent blues .
It ’ s a movement @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , it led to music that held a grip on popular traditions and tastes ; on the other , it cleared a new kind of musical space for soloists which pointed in the direction of bold and heady modernism for such musicians as Miles Davis and John Coltrane .
As the Mosaic set shows , Mobley partook in both tendencies , often at the same time .
In the fifties and early sixties , Mobley ’ s sound was velvety and enveloping but frank and unmannered ; his warm energy , lyrical phrasing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ drew richly on the blues .
( He said that Parker counselled him in this direction . )
He wasn ’ t as innovative as his contemporaries Sonny Rollins and John Coltrane , but he was as distinctive , his music as personal .
He recorded copiously in the late fifties , as a leader and sideman , with many of the best musicians of the time , including Coltrane , Elmo Hope , Sonny Clark , Jackie McLean , and Lee Morgan ; he was also a regular member of Blakey ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Mobley became addicted to heroin in the late fifties and was incarcerated .
He returned to the studio in 1960—to record what I consider his most accomplished album , “ Soul Station ” —and then , in 1961 , joined Miles Davis ’ s band .
But the tenor saxophonist whom Mobley was replacing was Coltrane , whose overflowing originality both inspired Davis and overwhelmed him .
Davis ’ s band of 1961 was just marking time , and Mobley left it frustrated , telling the jazz writer John Litweiler , in a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ left Miles , I was so tired of music , the whole world , man , I just went back to drugs.
” Yet Davis also shifted and expanded Mobley ’ s musical ideas : “ Miles pulled my coat to a few things .
He suggested just straight ahead , hit every note on the head .
.
.
.
Every time you try to get an idea across , you don ’ t labor , play behind the beat , or anything like that ; you hit it , and bring @ @ @ @ @ @ @ some excellent recordings in 1963 that reflect this new approach .
From the very first of the recordings in the Mosaic set , issued on the album “ No Room for Squares , ” it ’ s apparent that Mobley ’ s tone and manner had changed .
On “ Up a Step , ” his entrance is turbulent , and his sound is less suave , more abraded—there ’ s an element of struggle , as if he ’ s pushing against circumstances and even against himself .
The band features the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ comping pushes Mobley into probing , more troubled harmonies .
( Mobley would return the favor twelve days later , as a sideman on Hancock ’ s second album , “ My Point of View , ” in the company of the brilliant seventeen-year-old drummer Tony Williams .
A few weeks later , both Hancock and Williams would join Davis ’ s group , with history-making results . )
At this point , Mobley was recording with members of a new generation of musicians : while the trumpeter Morgan was his most usual @ @ @ @ @ @ @ frequent collaborators included the drummer Billy Higgins , the pianists Andrew Hill , McCoy Tyner ( starting in December , 1965 , just as Tyner was leaving Coltrane ’ s group ) , and Cedar Walton , and the trumpeter Woody Shaw .
On an October , 1963 , session split between the Mobley albums “ No Room for Squares ” and “ Straight No Filter , ” Hill , too , offers percussive and dissonant accompaniments that urge Mobley into more fragmented and gruffer phrases .
The influence of Coltrane is apparent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ keening , long-held high notes and whirling , cascading , rapid-fire arpeggios that plummet toward rough-toned low notes .
Jazz was changing when Mobley was making music ; so was the world .
There weren ’ t any overt politics in Mobley ’ s music , not even in the titles of his tunes ( whereas Clark Terry had one called “ Serenade to a Bus Seat , ” from 1957 , Charles Mingus put out “ Fables of Faubus , ” in 1959 , and Blakey recorded “ The Freedom Rider , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ edge of assertiveness , of challenge and questioning , in his playing sounds like it ’ s part of a moment of fervor , of agitation , of progress , of change .
On “ Recado Bossa Nova , ” from the 1965 album “ Dippin ’ , ” Mobley boldly leaps through rhythmic intricacies , exuberantly urged on by Higgins ( whose taut and vigorous accompaniment is a crucial part of the boxed set ) .
As fine as much of Mobley ’ s and his bandmates ’ playing was on these @ @ @ @ @ @ @ relative routineness of most of his released albums from this period , telling Litweiler , “ ‘ Reach Out , ’ ‘ Hi Voltage , ’ ‘ The Turnaround , ’ ‘ Caddy For Daddy , ’ they ’ re pretty much much the same . ''
Unlike the music of Coltrane or Davis , Mobley ’ s was also more or less the same whether he was a sideman or a leader—because , for the most part , he didn ’ t reconceive the the function of groups , as they did @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Mosaic set , Mobley made some great recordings on albums led by others , such as Morgan ’ s “ Cornbread ” and an exciting live set with Wynton Kelly .
Yet the Mosaic set also marks a moment when the idiom of hard bop—the format of the Blakey band , with a dose of Davis ’ s and Coltrane ’ s ideas and styles , along with popular grafts of bossa nova and boogaloo—risked becoming formulaic , with performances distinguished by minor differences and the happenstance of expressive flourishes .
( There @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sound , suggesting a vigorous yet melancholy quest , to his solos on the last of the Mosaic set ’ s recorded sessions , from the album “ Thinking of Home , ” released only in 1980 . )

Saxophonist Hank Mobley performs onstage on December 28, 1956 in New York. Photograph by Popsie Randolph / Michael Ochs Archives / Getty
The recent release, from Mosaic Records, of the eight-disk set “The Complete Hank Mobley Blue Note Sessions 1963-70” does more than make a significant batch of Mobley’s music compendiously available; it also tells a story of a great artist and of his times. Mobley, one of the central tenor saxophonists of modern jazz, died in 1986, at the age of fifty-five, more than a decade after he’d stopped regularly recording. The Mosaic set presents an often thrilling, often depressing vision of an artist whose work continued to advance even as his career was being thwarted by the practicalities of the music business. Though Mobley made these recordings between the ages of thirty-two and forty, many of them nonetheless inhabit the rarefied realm of late work—art that feels as if its creator already has a foot in the beyond.
His performances here, for all their energy, swing, melody, and charm, have a haunted sensibility, as if anticipating end times from however far away. They represent thirteen recording sessions that led to a dozen albums, only seven of which (and few of the best) were released soon after they were recorded—some were chopped up and mixed and matched—which denied Mobley his proper place in the music of his time and left him deeply frustrated. This release is a welcome chance to revisit Mobley’s achievement and honor his legacy. (The albums gathered in the set are also streaming on Spotify.)
Born in Georgia in 1930 and raised in New Jersey, Mobley got his first major gig in 1951, with the drummer Max Roach (and recorded with him), and came to prominence in the mid-fifties, in the company of the pianist Horace Silver and the drummer Art Blakey. He recorded with them for Blue Note, which became Mobley’s studio for almost all of his albums; his first as a leader came in 1955. He was a key part of the movement known as “hard bop, ” which infused the complexities of Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, and Bud Powell with a strong dose of the fervent blues. It’s a movement of paradox: on the one hand, it led to music that held a grip on popular traditions and tastes; on the other, it cleared a new kind of musical space for soloists which pointed in the direction of bold and heady modernism for such musicians as Miles Davis and John Coltrane. As the Mosaic set shows, Mobley partook in both tendencies, often at the same time.
In the fifties and early sixties, Mobley’s sound was velvety and enveloping but frank and unmannered; his warm energy, lyrical phrasing, wry wit, and melodic heartiness drew richly on the blues. (He said that Parker counselled him in this direction.) He wasn’t as innovative as his contemporaries Sonny Rollins and John Coltrane, but he was as distinctive, his music as personal. He recorded copiously in the late fifties, as a leader and sideman, with many of the best musicians of the time, including Coltrane, Elmo Hope, Sonny Clark, Jackie McLean, and Lee Morgan; he was also a regular member of Blakey’s band, the Jazz Messengers. Mobley became addicted to heroin in the late fifties and was incarcerated. He returned to the studio in 1960—to record what I consider his most accomplished album, “Soul Station”—and then, in 1961, joined Miles Davis’s band.
But the tenor saxophonist whom Mobley was replacing was Coltrane, whose overflowing originality both inspired Davis and overwhelmed him. Davis’s band of 1961 was just marking time, and Mobley left it frustrated, telling the jazz writer John Litweiler, in a remarkable 1973 interview, “When I left Miles, I was so tired of music, the whole world, man, I just went back to drugs.” Yet Davis also shifted and expanded Mobley’s musical ideas: “Miles pulled my coat to a few things. He suggested just straight ahead, hit every note on the head. . . . Every time you try to get an idea across, you don’t labor, play behind the beat, or anything like that; you hit it, and bring something out of it.” Mobley made some excellent recordings in 1963 that reflect this new approach.
From the very first of the recordings in the Mosaic set, issued on the album “No Room for Squares,” it’s apparent that Mobley’s tone and manner had changed. On “Up a Step,” his entrance is turbulent, and his sound is less suave, more abraded—there’s an element of struggle, as if he’s pushing against circumstances and even against himself. The band features the twenty-two-year-old Herbie Hancock on piano, whose comping pushes Mobley into probing, more troubled harmonies. (Mobley would return the favor twelve days later, as a sideman on Hancock’s second album, “My Point of View,” in the company of the brilliant seventeen-year-old drummer Tony Williams. A few weeks later, both Hancock and Williams would join Davis’s group, with history-making results.)
At this point, Mobley was recording with members of a new generation of musicians: while the trumpeter Morgan was his most usual partner in the front line, other frequent collaborators included the drummer Billy Higgins, the pianists Andrew Hill, McCoy Tyner (starting in December, 1965, just as Tyner was leaving Coltrane’s group), and Cedar Walton, and the trumpeter Woody Shaw. On an October, 1963, session split between the Mobley albums “No Room for Squares” and “Straight No Filter,” Hill, too, offers percussive and dissonant accompaniments that urge Mobley into more fragmented and gruffer phrases. The influence of Coltrane is apparent in Mobley’s playing, in keening, long-held high notes and whirling, cascading, rapid-fire arpeggios that plummet toward rough-toned low notes.
Jazz was changing when Mobley was making music; so was the world. There weren’t any overt politics in Mobley’s music, not even in the titles of his tunes (whereas Clark Terry had one called “Serenade to a Bus Seat,” from 1957, Charles Mingus put out “Fables of Faubus,” in 1959, and Blakey recorded “The Freedom Rider,” in 1961), but the edge of assertiveness, of challenge and questioning, in his playing sounds like it’s part of a moment of fervor, of agitation, of progress, of change. On “Recado Bossa Nova,” from the 1965 album “Dippin’,” Mobley boldly leaps through rhythmic intricacies, exuberantly urged on by Higgins (whose taut and vigorous accompaniment is a crucial part of the boxed set). As fine as much of Mobley’s and his bandmates’ playing was on these recordings, he was aware of the relative routineness of most of his released albums from this period, telling Litweiler, “ ‘Reach Out,’ ‘Hi Voltage,’ ‘The Turnaround,’ ‘Caddy For Daddy,’ they’re pretty much much the same."
Unlike the music of Coltrane or Davis, Mobley’s was also more or less the same whether he was a sideman or a leader—because, for the most part, he didn’t reconceive the the function of groups, as they did. Throughout the period covered in the Mosaic set, Mobley made some great recordings on albums led by others, such as Morgan’s “Cornbread” and an exciting live set with Wynton Kelly. Yet the Mosaic set also marks a moment when the idiom of hard bop—the format of the Blakey band, with a dose of Davis’s and Coltrane’s ideas and styles, along with popular grafts of bossa nova and boogaloo—risked becoming formulaic, with performances distinguished by minor differences and the happenstance of expressive flourishes. (There’s nonetheless a special, pared-down sound, suggesting a vigorous yet melancholy quest, to his solos on the last of the Mosaic set’s recorded sessions, from the album “Thinking of Home,” released only in 1980.)
Yet Mobley, too, had far grander musical designs and concepts in mind—and even realized some of them, though they weren’t released at the time. He was an accomplished and prolific composer who wrote fifty-six of the seventy-one pieces featured in the Mosaic set. Mobley told Litweiler that he’d written a film score on a trip to Paris, for a movie “about the French-Algerian war.” He added, “Then I came back and recorded it for Blue Note, and they didn’t put it out.” His grandly ambitious 1966 session “A Slice of the Top” (“the best thing I ever did,” he told Litweiler), featuring an octet that he and the pianist Duke Pearson arranged into big-band-like densities and interjections—which he, along with the entire group of soloists, matched with mighty inspiration—wasn’t released until 1979. Mobley was bitter, telling Litweiler: