So in the same issue of the New Yorker (August 1, 2011) where music critic Alex Ross penned the envy-inducing phrase "sonic decor" in regards to the composer Bruckner, David Denby had this great comparison between some classics and today that seemed especially true:
“In the remarriage classics (The Awful Truth, The Philadelphia Story, His Girl Friday), the former partners have a way of talking and being with each other that they don’t have – and couldn’t possibly have – with anyone else. That sophisticated metaphor for sexual compatibility made for uniquely satisfying romantic comedy. But Crazy, Stupid, Love holds to the boring modern convention that good people are inarticulate, and Cal and Emily mainly stumble around trying to fill the silence.”
Someday, you're likely to see a couple I write getting back together, foreshadowed by a magnetic language only they can speak.
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