On Anthony Bourdain in a Tearing World
1.
I made the mistake of trying to write about Anthony Bourdain with old episodes of Parts Unknown playing in the background. His sudden jarring death demanded words and witness both, so the balance seemed simple enough, an earnest attempt at paying my honest respect.
Then again, nothing about that work was built for the background. I settled randomly on Season 3, which began in Punjab Province, and the voice and sights and sounds enraptured my attention like an urgent sermon. The staccato storytelling felt as new, suckering me into believing this was one I somehow hadn’t seen. I had, possibly twice, and stopped what I was writing to watch it anyway.
There’s an intoxicating verve to them, a pace and cadence apart from Bourdain’s contemporaries. How food and history and politics are tapestried together with such delicate deftness. Moving from human to human and scene to scene, embracing each on their
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