I know Edith Zimmerman’s name well, seeing it at the end of so many Hairpin posts, but I’d never seen a photo of her until I read her piece My Oracle at Ludlow. I didn’t know that she was so young (or so lovely)! This is really terrible and unhealthy and wicked of me, but I tend not to like young writers. I don’t know if it’s that I simply don’t enjoy their writing, or if I’m instead jealous that they’re prolific and published and lauded while I’m not. (I’m the worst, I know.) But I don’t even begrudge Ms. Zimmerman her perfect hair and skin and eyebrows and her success, because I love her writing, and the Hairpin. If I ever have a daughter, I’ll name her after my late grandmother, who shares Ms. Zimmerman’s first name. Except, knowing me, my little Edith would be awkward and chubby-cheeked and unpopular, making the name perhaps less charming. (You know the kind of girl who could pull off the not-so-melodic names of yesteryear? I hate them all, the beautiful Gertrude’s and lovely Beatrice’s and pretty Maude’s.)
Anyway, what I’m really trying to say is that I could really use an oracle of my own right now, and I haven’t a clue what he would say if I found him.
photo via the new york times