Arnie cries to himself in horror.

The end? Or the beginning?

In the wake of last week’s sudden closing of the Mt. Airy Times Express and Germantown Courier, civic leaders in those two neighborhoods have been scrambling to find something to fill the sizeable news hole left behind.

In an e-mail circulated to many, West Mount Airy Neighbors’ executive director Laura Siena assured residents that the WMAN board was committed to local news and was working on a plan to restore a print newspaper to the neighborhood.

“West Mt. Airy Neighbors’ Board has taken this issue up at several recent Board meetings and as a group is committed to the need for local news accessible to all,” Siena wrote, “We are working with interested buyers and investors to see if a print paper can be restored to our community and to East Mt. Airy and Germantown. 

“We realize that many of our neighbors either do not have access to the web and e-mail, or do not obtain news in those formats; that is why we see the continued value of a hard-copy newspaper.  Whether it proves economically feasible in these hard times and given the financial challenges to newspapers everywhere remains to be seen.  What is not in doubt is West Mt. Airy Neighbors’ commitment to local news as an essential aspect of a thriving, connected, livable community.”

The task of restoring a print newspaper to Mt. Airy and to Germantown will be a tall order. The toughest challenge will be to find financial backers willing to bet that a startup print paper will be able to survive in this economy. It’s like trying to resuscitate a dinosaur during an ice age.

But, despite the obvious challenges, there is definitely a market for local news in these communities. Since I returned to the Local in 2006, the demand for the services of a competent paper has been high. That demand is often greater than we can service.

Many organizations in Mt. Airy asked the Local to cover of their events and activities, even while the Express and Courier were in operation. The problem was the Express and Courier were staffed by a skeleton crew that could barely fill 24 pages. There’s only so much an editor and one part-time reporter can do.

And it’s too bad those papers languished for so long. Northwest Philadelphia is a vibrant neighborhood, full of interesting personalities, political intrigue and a rich history. It’s literally a gold mine for stories.

I have no doubt that something will replace the Express and Courier. The need is there, not only for local news but also for local advertising. And whatever replaces those papers will likely be better. No offense to the old staff, but a local owner is more likely to invest in news coverage — something the papers’ owner, the Journal Register Company, has never done. To that company, editorial content was just something from which to hang display ads.

Sit tight, Germantown and Mt. Airy, I think something will come along. I’m not sure how soon, but you may find you’ll be better off in the long run.           

Pete Mazzaccaro

How fear and trembling led us to Amélie Nothomb
by HUGH GILMORE

Suppose you were a Rolling Stones fan and you went to one of their concerts and, my goodness, only about five other people were there, so Mick called down, “Hey, folks, come on up here and let’s get to know one another.”

Something very much like that happened to us last week, only better — my wife got to meet, hug, talk with, and kiss goodbye her favorite author, Amélie Nothomb.

For her, and for me as a happy witness, it was one of those enchanted encounters that leave a magically enduring impression. And, of course, this scene could only have happened in Philadelphia, land of the screw-up, even, yes, alas, at a Penn Bookstore event.

First some background. In 2005, I was downtown one day and had time to kill between appointments. I went to the Ritz and picked a movie, Fear and Trembling, for its title. I thought it might have something to do with Kierkegaard, but it didn’t. 

It’s the story of a French-Belgian girl who was born in Japan, lived there till she was five, speaks fluent Japanese, and returns to Japan because she loves Japanese culture. She commits herself to work for at least one year at a huge Japan Inc. business firm. A frustrating battle of Eastern versus Western culture soon emerges. 

The corporation starts punishing this young woman (played by the waif-like Sylvie Testud) for her mistakes by giving her increasingly more humiliating assignments. Eventually they try to break her spirit completely. But, partially because she is plucky and ingenious, and partially because she is whimsical and dense, she refuses to quit, even when she is made to sit in the washroom all day as a toilet attendant.

The movie is funny, odd, and charming. I left feeling quite moved. Every now and then an image from the film would come to mind and I’d decide to rent the movie, but I didn’t remember the title.

One day I Googled “Movie about French girl who works for big Japanese corporation.” (Google works best for me if I’m very literal.) Up came the title, plus hundreds of articles and reviews. I rented the movie and had the pleasure of seeing that my wife, Janet, liked it too. In fact, she watched it again twice. 

Then she read the book. First in English. Then in French. And then, as happens if a reader is lucky, it turned out that the author, Amélie Nothomb, has been publishing a book a year since 1992. My wife, Janet, began gobbling them up and read every one. 

Janet and three friends meanwhile had formed a small French reading group — just the right size to meet monthly for discussion and then segue into dinner with the husbands. Often the conversation from the book group carries over.

An Amélie Nothomb book has been the subject of their discussion four times so far. Sometimes I think it would be All Amélie All-the-Time if Janet had her way. She definitely would subscribe to the Amélie channel on TV.

Worldwide, Amélie Nothomb is a literary sensation and almost a cult figure. She is 41, tall and thin, always dresses in black, and is very photogenic. She is mysterious, odd, eccentric, and given to flights of weird imaginings. She writes both memoirs and fiction, which are sometimes indistinguishable, and as phantasmagoric as Edward Gorey’s drawings and tales. She is also intelligent and philosophical. In one feature story I read about her, the writer said she is the sort of public figure who is run after by crowds in Europe. Young, old, men, women. Babies, even boy babies, are named after her.

Small wonder then, that a small item I saw in the newspaper seemed like it might interest Janet. I had just finished glossing The Philadelphia Inquirer’s Weekend section to make myself aware of all the events we’d not be going to in the coming week when I happened to glance at the “Literary Calendar,” way in the back, and in very small print.

“PENN BOOKSTORE  Amélie Nothomb, Tokyo Fiancée, 2/9 6 p.m.”

I thought we should arrive an hour early to get seats, expecting a mob. We invited Edith and Richard Stetser, both French-reading-group friends.

We left at 4:30. After we parked, I wanted to hurry ahead and save seats. Edith, who is French, teaches French at Arcadia U, and has been around Philadelphia for too many years, said, “I’ll bet there’ll be no more than 20 people.”

“At least a hundred,” I said.

“We’ll see.”

At 5 p.m., on the second floor of the bookstore, the podium was still hidden behind a stack of chairs and the event space was filled with Penn students draped over the lounge chairs. We grabbed a few empty chairs, pulled them up front, left hats or scarves on them, and waited. 

At 10 minutes to 6 p.m., no one had come out to arrange the chairs for a guest speaker. You’d hardly think a world-class literary treasure, a Euro-celeb, intellectual artiste, was about to sweep in.

At six, a young woman with an ID badge came up to say the program was slated for 6:30, not 6:00. She started arranging chairs. The lounging students stood, stretched ... and left! Besides the Stetsers, and ourselves only three other people were there.

Another losing night in Philadelphia. There’d been no publicity. No representation from the Foreign Languages departments of any of the city’s learning institutions. (Other than “Edith of Arcadia.”)

A world-class figure who had drawn big crowds in Boston and Toronto and was headed for New York was on her way to West Philly for seven people. Like all Philadelphians everywhere, I began preparing my apology. I started wandering the bookstore to work off my squeamishness at what might be, for Mademoiselle Nothomb — winner of the 1999 Grand Prix du roman de l’Académie française; the Prix René-Fallet; and twice the Prix Alain-Fournier — a disappointing turnout.

Voilà! Browsing at the “New Acquisitions” table, just like a real person, none other than: Amélie Nothomb and her companion!

 I said hello. Welcome. We are so much looking forward to hearing you speak. My wife is so crazy about you. She is such a devoted fan. You are like a movie star, a rock star, in our home. Oh this is such a pleasure.

I think that’s what I said. I was so unnerved I’m sure anyone walking by only heard the Hummina-hummina part.

I ran upstairs and told Janet, who dashed for the escalator, then slowed down to keep her Francophilian cool. I leaned over the balcony, pointing where she should look in the store. Eventually she found her. Edith joined them, saying, “You look just like your picture.” They talked. I quietly eased up on them and snapped away with the camera.

6:45 p.m. Showtime. Ms Nothomb was brilliant, charming, interesting, intriguing and everything you’d expect from a French writer — other, perhaps, than brooding. All seven of us applauded. Then everyone left, except Janet and Edith and Amélie, who talked and laughed and connected as human beings for almost another half hour. It was wonderful, as though they were at the Reading Group dining table together.

It seemed as though, in compensation for the crowd being small, there was time for writer and reader to connect in a way that hardly ever happens at these book events. Yes, it does sometimes at the new author readings, but if you’re ever been to the Free Library events or gone to a university address, you know what I mean. At these big venues the entire atmosphere seems predicated on crowd control and the devoted readers are treated — often by the authors themselves — as nuisances who’ve come around to bite the hands that feed them books.

Somehow, this time, Janet and Edith, and even, I would say Amélie, lucked out. For once the writer and the reader got to convey their mutual admiration, love, and respect for one another. It was magical.

A playlist for black history month: music for everyone
by Erin Vertreace

I am rarely without my music. I left my earphones at home once on a day I had to take a two-hour bus ride. It was not a pleasant trip. Someone said music is the soundtrack to life, and African Americans have contributed to the American soundtrack in so many ways, that American musical culture would be drastically different without it. Here are just a few of my favorite black musicians and singers and the songs or albums of theirs I like the most:

Muddy Waters (1915-1983) — The Blues personified — Manish Boy  (1955)

Bo Diddley ( 1928-2008) — The beat that started it all! — Bo Diddley (1958)

Chuck Berry  (1926) — He laid the foundation for the house of rock and roll — Johnny B. Goode (1958)

Little Richard(1932)  — the originator, the emancipator, the true King of Rock and Roll! — Here’s Little Richard (1955)

The Temptations — The epitome of the Motown sound — My Girl (1965)

The Supremes — Grace, beauty, moves and talent. The blueprint for many girl groups to come after — I Hear A Symphony (1965)

Stevie Wonder (1950) — A true musical genius and renaissance man — Songs In The Key Of Life (1976)

Nina Simone (1933-2003)- Jazzy, folky, and honest — I Put A Spell On You (1965)

Odetta (1930-2008) — Folk pioneer with a wide and impressive influence — Odetta Sings Ballads and Blues (1956)

Bob Marley(1945-1981) — For many, he is reggae music — Exodus (1977)

John Coltraine (1926-1967) — Some of the best jazz you will ever hear — Blue Train (1957)

Gil Scott Heron (1949) — Heron and artists like him are the roots of rap music — The Revolution Will Not Be Televised (1988)

The Last Poets — Spoken word pioneers that take it to the streets  - The Last Poets (1970)

Public Enemy — Political, militant and energetic rap duo that helped many to ‘Fight The Power’- Fear of a Black Planet (1990)

Al Green (1946) — the tapestries of R&B and gospel sewn together beautifully — I’m Still In Love With You (1972)

Mahalia Jackson (1911-1972) — Powerfully uplifting and soul stirring gospel at it’s finest — Move on Up A Little Higher (1947)

Dorothy Ashby (1932-1986)  — Harpist with jazz in her fingers — Afro-Harping (1968)

Ella Fitzgerald (1917-1996) — If I could sing, I’d sing like her! — One For My Baby (and One More For The Road) (1960)

Billie Holiday(1915-1955) — Still the standard bearer for any jazz vocalist — Lady Sings The Blues (1956)

The Fifth Dimension — Beautiful, playful harmonies and lyrics to match — The Magic Garden (1967)

Marian Anderson (1897-1993) — Philadelphia native who introduced many African Americans to the lush world of Opera.

Curtis Mayfield (1942-1999) — merged funk and soul like no one else — Superfly (1972)

Duke Ellington (1899-1974) — American music as a whole would not be the same without him — The Birth of Big Band Jazz (1926)

Marvin Gaye (1939-1984) — Lent his smooth voice to even the heaviest of issues — What’s Goin’ On (1971)

Sam Cooke(1931-1962) — If I could sing, and I were a guy, I’d want to sing like him.  A Change Is Gonna Come (1964)

Nat King Cole (1919-1965) —  if velvet could sing, it would sound like Nat King Cole — Mona Lisa (1950)