Narrator

THE REST OF LIFE: THREE NOVELLAS Mary Gordon Viking257 pages. $2 "One of the greatest treasures a novelist can have is a secret world, which he or she can open up to his or her reader," observed Mary Gordon in a recent book of essays, "Good Boys and Dead Girls." In "The Rest of Life: Three Novellas," Ms. Gordon explores the secret, amorous lives of three women -- two middle-aged and one elderly -- as they reflect on the present and past and wonder about the future.The most beautiful and profound of these novellas is "Immaculate Man," narrated by the unnamed director of a New York shelter for abused women and divorced mother of two children.

It has been a rough week or so for the Obama administration. From Benghazi to the tapping of reporters' phones to the IRS admitting that it targeted conservative groups for extra scrutiny, the press is in a frenzy, and many are questioning President Barack Obama's future. If the president does not soon regain control of the narrative, he is likely to suffer the same fate as his predecessor - a collapse in public confidence and a vastly diminished second term. To understand President Obama's situation, we need to explore a little presidential theory and some recent presidential history.

Walter Allen Teas Jr., a former AM-radio morning host who also made numerous commercials at a studio he owned, died of heart disease June 19 at his Catonsville home. He was 84. Born in San Antonio, he worked in radio in his home town, as well as Dallas, St. Louis and Tulsa before moving to Baltimore in 1953 and joining WFBR-AM. He used the phrase, "Walt Teas, if you please" on its morning show broadcast from North Avenue. In 1959, he became a freelance announcer and commercial narration artist.

You don't have to be a serious fan to know the NFL Films look and sound. Stunning shots of overcast skies hanging low over packed stadiums are accompanied by tympanies rumbling and choral voices soaring as a perfect spiral sails in slow motion through the lights down into the heavenward-stretched hands of an airborne receiver. And that lyricism is juxtaposed with the most in-your-face mud, blood, grime and grit, hand-held close-ups you will ever see on a screen. Sometimes it feels as if you are in the middle of the mayhem on the field.

You don't have to be a serious fan to know the NFL Films look and sound. Stunning shots of overcast skies hanging low over packed stadiums are accompanied by tympanies rumbling and choral voices soaring as a perfect spiral sails in slow motion through the lights down into the heavenward-stretched hands of an airborne receiver. And that lyricism is juxtaposed with the most in-your-face mud, blood, grime and grit, hand-held close-ups you will ever see on a screen. Sometimes it feels as if you are in the middle of the mayhem on the field.

I once sat in the front row during a production of David Rabe's brutal "Streamers" and was sprayed with a soldier's theatrical blood. This sickening, yet somehow exhilarating, experience was not unlike reading Mr. Rabe's first novel, "Recital of the Dog," a nightmarish, stream-of-subconsciousness mixture of Kafka, Beckett, Jung and Mr. Rabe, being his usual cruel, coarse, chaotic, comical and cerebral self.Before this first-person, present-tense novel opens, the narrator has shot and killed a mongrel dog that was bothering his cows.

Denis Johnson writes like a man who has trawled through the underbelly of life and is now compelled to describe every freak he came across in the muck. Thus, in this riveting collection of short stories, we're introduced to falling-down drunks, pharmaceutical opium abusers, heroin addicts, psychotics, small-time crooks, and enough losers and misfits to fill every room of the Hotel Dysfunctional in hell.By the 11th and final tale, the lone narrator -- stabilized somewhat by Narcotics Anonymous and AA meetings, Antabuse and a steady job editing a hospital newsletter -- is nevertheless a peeping Tom who gets his kicks eyeballing a Mennonite couple.

The Bush campaign put on the air this week two new TV ads that are designed to undermine support for Democrat Bill Clinton, rather than promote a positive message about Mr. Bush. The more controversial of the two is a 30-second spot challenging Mr. Clinton's claim that he will raise taxes only on the rich.SCRIPT: A female narrator says: "Bill Clinton says he'll only tax the rich to pay for his campaign promises. But here's what Clinton economics could mean to you." A man identified as steamfitter John Canes appears on the screen, and the narrator says: "$1,088 more in taxes."

Just as the hangover from last fall's gubernatorial television commercial bonanza was starting to wear off, Baltimore City Councilman and mayoral candidate Keiffer J. Mitchell Jr. aired the first television commercial of this year's mayoral race. The 30-second spot, which aired yesterday only, focuses entirely on schools. What the ad says: Somber piano music plays in the background as the camera trains on a dark school hallway and an empty classroom. A female narrator says: "Friday is the last day of school.

For Rouenna, by Sigrid Nunez. Farrar, Straus and Giroux. 208 pgs. $22. If only Sigrid Nunez's new novel was really about Vietnam. The cover makes it seem so: a fleet of helicopters reminiscent of the Air Cavalry in Apocalypse Now flies in formation above an equatorial jungle of palm trees, mountains and mist. A letter, postmarked Staten Island, is presumably addressed to the title character, Rouenna Zycinski, a combat nurse who has never gotten over Vietnam. Readers should be warned, however, not to expect a novel about the war or they will be disappointed.

Opponents of same-sex marriage will start their television ad campaign Monday morning, according to documents filed with the Federal Communications Commission. Two days later, the supporters will go up on television, papers show. Even though Maryland has a crowded ballot this year with seven state-wide questions, so far only the gambling interests have forked over the cash for a television campaign. It's a safe bet that the Maryland Marriage Alliance, which opposes same-sex marriage, will put up an ad similar in tone to one that is now airing in Minnesota, another state with marriage on the ballot.

Sometimes the only barrier separating a pastoral paradise from hell on earth is a thin line of birch trees. Before she died in 2001 at age 74, Frederick dressmaker Esther Krinitz created 36 oversized fabric panels that provide persuasive proof that both worlds exist - sometimes within the same frame. In scraps of fabric and cheerily colored yarns, the panels tell the story of how young Esther and her sister escaped from the Holocaust during the Nazi occupation of Poland during World War II. The panels went on display this weekend at the American Visionary Art Museum as part of a new exhibit, "The Art of Storytelling: Lies, Enchantment, Humor and Truth.

Last week I wrote about the death of Urbanite magazine from my perspective as a former employee. I soon discovered I was not alone in my sadness. As news of the publication's demise continued to spread, others, like me, seemed to be mourning the loss of not something but someone. A daily paper like The Sun reflects the efforts of professionals to present a city or town as it is. This is important work. But with its fiction contests, personal essay-writing workshops and long-form journalism, Urbanite facilitated something different, a collective meditation on what Baltimore could become.

I attended and enjoyed Sunday's fabulous performance by theU.S. Navy's Blue Angels and other crack units of the American military in Baltimore. The weather was perfect, the crowd friendly, and the narration was, for the most part, as on target as the Navy jet. I was astonished, however, when the narrator interjected a gratuitous swipe at the Fourth Estate and non-military citizens in general. To the best of my recollection, the quote I refer to declaimed as follows: "It is the soldier, not the reporter, who stands for and protects our freedom.

A man hangs from a rope connected to the beam of a barn, his feet smashing through a wooden crate so he looks like he's cut off at the knees. His wife explains that when he was angered or annoyed, he would go to that spot, get up on a bucket, put a noose around his neck and threaten suicide. On the fatal day, she placed the bucket elsewhere, so he grabbed the crate. Is this a picture of accidental death, as she contends? Or is it suicide — or murder? This scene doesn't belong to a forensic TV series like "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.

James W. Dale makes a welcome point in his commentary about the divestment campaign against Israel ("Choosing to stay engaged: Anti-Israel measures like divestment are not the best way to seek justice for Palestinians," May 4). It is, as he says, vital that mainline churches, including his own Presbyterian Church, understand that anti-Israel "divestment" campaigns render their proponents destructive and deny them a voice at the table. "Divestment" echoes both the Nazi boycott and impoverishment of German Jews and the Arab League's economic boycott of Israel.

Michael Sarbanes, a longtime civic activist and son of retired U.S. Sen. Paul S. Sarbanes, began airing his third commercial of this year's City Council president race this week, much of it a recap of previous ads. The 30-second spot will be aired on all local network affiliates until Tuesday's Democratic primary, according to the campaign. This is the fifth television ad in this year's four-way Democratic primary for City Council president. What the ad says: The ad begins with a male narrator quoting The Sun's endorsement of Sarbanes in Sunday's newspaper.

My Happy Life, by Lydia Millet. Henry Holt and Company. 149 pages. $20. A woman is locked away and forgotten in a mental hospital that has closed. While waiting for the wrecking ball, she recounts her life of abuse and neglect. This is the plot of Lydia Millet's freakish new novel -- a fictional memoir that is ingenious but dismal and, mercifully, short. Unlike the searing, true memoir Girl Interrupted, Susanna Kaysen's insightful account of her two-year stay in a psychiatric hospital, Millet's book is neither moving nor darkly funny.

Five short narrative films, on themes ranging from a modern-day urban cowboy to a scamming extraterrestrial, kicked off the 14th annual Maryland Film Festival at MICA's Brown Center Thursday night. Maryland's festival remains the only one of its kind to devote its opening night to short films — works the evening's host, salon.com film critic Andrew O'Hehir, praised as a way for filmmakers to hone their craft. The evening's fare kicked off with MFF alum Christina Choe's "I am John Wayne," a cryptic modern take on the cowboy tradition, complete with a horse, a laconic hero and a two-timing woman, all set against a Coney Island backdrop.

Under Armour gave a sneak peek at its latest advertising campaign during last Thursday's season debut of "Jersey Shore," and you might have seen a 30-second "Footsteps" spot on TV or the Internet this week. The company's latest commercial, which is embedded at the bottom of this post, was directed by Peter Berg of "Friday Night Lights" fame. It features cameos by NFL quarterbacks Tom Brady and Cam Newton, and though Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis isn't seen in the ad, he narrates it in a very Ray-like manner.