Last year, I attended my first New Republic holiday party. Sometime in the middle of the evening, at a Mexican restaurant in midtown east, I found myself talking to my work pal and a colleague whom I didn’t know well. The topic was Philip Roth. I sipped my margarita silently, waiting for a chance to chime in and bond. Finally, a lull. “I’ve never read any Roth!” I said brightly. There was a moment of silence. The second colleague turned my way.“Noreen, where in the midwest are you from again?”
My ideal man doesn’t exist. This, at least, is what I had to conclude after visiting alikewise.com, the much-ballyhooed new site for “dating by the book,” which purports to match people based on their taste in literature. Matt Sherman, one of the site’s founders, told the AP that the idea came to him after he broke up with a girlfriend a few years ago.
Anyone seeking evidence of the death of romantic comedy will find it in abundance in Love Actually, which arrives in video stores this week. Written and directed by Richard Curtis (best known for penning Bridget Jones's Diary, Notting Hill, and Four Weddings and a Funeral), Love Actually announces its ambitions early: Too bold to offer us a thin, unconvincing romance, it instead offers us half a dozen.