Climb on up: In the last Harper Review responses to “The ivory tower must endure,” Sophia Gutierrez argues that the ivory tower should not only endure, but should flourish. Despite the inequality and privilege inherent in some place like an ivory tower, the elite intelligentsia provide “thought-provoking ideas influencing public policy, driving national discourse, and shifting political priorities.” The ivory tower of universities allows proximity to the power that can change the world. Gutierrez reminds us that with the immense social and political changes occurring in our modern world, “we need a space for intellectual refuge, creativity, and critique.” Just don’t forget to bring what you’ve learned in the ivory tower outside of it.
Production editor Liam Eifert takes a similar approach. The question is not whether the ivory tower should endure, but rather how those in the ivory tower can endure it. To join the elite means becoming one of the elite, but rebellion against the tower “is unsatisfying.” Eifert cites John Milton’s Paradise Lost in his argument on enduring the ivory tower: the rebellion of Satan didn’t lead to much fruition, and the omnipotence of God’s power is an empty achievement. But Adam and Eve choose to leave their ivory tower. Eifert argues that “history allows us one mercy: each other.”
Production editor Liam Eifert takes a similar approach. The question is not whether the ivory tower should endure, but rather how those in the ivory tower can endure it. To join the elite means becoming one of the elite, but rebellion against the tower “is unsatisfying.” Eifert cites John Milton’s Paradise Lost in his argument on enduring the ivory tower: the rebellion of Satan didn’t lead to much fruition, and the omnipotence of God’s power is an empty achievement. But Adam and Eve choose to leave their ivory tower. Eifert argues that “history allows us one mercy: each other.”
Elizabeth Eck, senior editor
Daily bread: These days you can’t toss a rock without hitting some new publication. A recent and delightful entry into the flourishing world of print is Cake Zine, a twice yearly food magazine featuring essays, recipes, and poetry, alongside art and illustrations. The Winter 2025 issue is titled “Daily Bread,” andas something of an expert on the topic, I have been reading it with zeal. Come for the qiang bing cinnamon rolls, stay for the essays on gluten-free communion wafers and the science of bread clips. Don’t miss the shibaried loaves of challah and the delightfully confessional artist’s note that accompanies them. The Zine’s next call for submissions closes tonight—with “Forbidden Fruit” the theme.
Noah Glasgow, editor in chief
Fruit of our doom: A new article from The Guardian by journalist Lois Beckett, investigating a viral $20 Japanese strawberry on sale in Los Angeles, has left some wondering if this is yet another of America’s collapse. This is reflected, quite unsubtly, in the headline: “I tried the viral $20 strawberry. It tasted like the end of the American empire.”The fruit, sold individually, is a product of our times. Produced by a rapidly aging agricultural sector in need of retirement funds and picked for the consumption of an American elite anxious to detach themselves from a distressing reality, the strawberry provides a perfect opportunity to leap away from the existential agues brought on by late-stage capitalism and feel a little joy from blowing twenty dollars to eat a single strawberry, a fairly noble pursuit for the ten people who can afford it. While the world is burning, why not eat it if it cools your head?
The strawberry is just another fad but it is eerily perfect. Compared to an average American bushel, it is flawless in appearance and consistently delicious—“the platonic strawberry.” Beckett tries to pin the strawberry to a trend of decadence mirrored in the fall of the Roman Empire, suggesting that economic divide and loss of shared culture contributes to crises of national dissolution, though I cannot imagine that a return to cooled pigs’ cheeks in breadcrumbs and squirrel casserole would do us any better than a $20 strawberry. After all, the strawberry is delicious. Whether it is a ridiculous moment in gastronomy or a harbinger of doom to come, most people would probably agree, that as regards the strawberry itself, who gives a fig?
The strawberry is just another fad but it is eerily perfect. Compared to an average American bushel, it is flawless in appearance and consistently delicious—“the platonic strawberry.” Beckett tries to pin the strawberry to a trend of decadence mirrored in the fall of the Roman Empire, suggesting that economic divide and loss of shared culture contributes to crises of national dissolution, though I cannot imagine that a return to cooled pigs’ cheeks in breadcrumbs and squirrel casserole would do us any better than a $20 strawberry. After all, the strawberry is delicious. Whether it is a ridiculous moment in gastronomy or a harbinger of doom to come, most people would probably agree, that as regards the strawberry itself, who gives a fig?
Brady Santoro, assistant editor
If it ain’t broke: In formulaic terms, 12 is practically the exact same project that Westside Gunn has released nearly three dozen times over the last two decades. It carries with it the same smattering of woozy soul chops, the same compulsive name-dropping of luxury brands, and the same air of egotistical Epicureanism that Westside Gunn has made a career of. It’s hard to pinpoint, then, what makes 12 so much fun to listen to. Maybe it’s because, after a poorly-executed attempt to pander to the mainstream, 12 is decidedly uncompromising. Maybe it’s the presence of Brother Tom Sos and Crucial The Guillotine, more of the completely unknown, diamond-in-the-rough emcees and producers Gunn keeps managing to find. Maybe it’s the way the samples continue churning well past their expected runtime, warbling and stuttering into cathartic soundscapes. It’s hard to say. The most compelling reason why I’m enjoying this record so much might really boil down to cliché: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. With 12, Gunn proves that if you have a formula that is as much of a surefire win as his, all you have to do is execute.
Charlie Phelan, assistant digital editor
Image: Paul Cezanne, The Bend in the Road, oil on canvas, 1900-1906 (National Gallery of Art, Washington DC).