I came across this article via The Browser website. I believe the guy thinks he’s writing an article for mid-80s NME. But, as there are a fair few people here who have an interest in Fairport / Sandy, I thought I should share it:
A writer in something called The Paris Review on Sandy
Apropos nothing other than it is very irritating, my Mac spellchecker keeps changing Fairport to Airport.
In my head The Motors are now singing “Fairport!”
PS. How on earth would you find pretentious writing in something called The Paris Review? Incroyable mon ami!
It’s a bit thin perhaps, but she was maybe the writers moment of being by greatness, it clearly having touched him hard. I think it exudes naive charm, one of the many falling in love at her feet. And it’s had me playing some Sandy, never a bad thing.
What, I wonder, had she decided against that last tumbler and not fallen downstairs? Would she be seen the same way, had she lived on, or would she have become a Martynesque tragicomedy, capable of lasting genius, yet remembered for their falling down drunkeness as much as the legacy of song and the singing of them? Would journalists be sneaking into her house with a bottle of courvoisier to get some prime cuts of back in the day, as was the latter fate of JM?