GIRL FROM THE NORTH COUNTRY and Junior's

Girl from the North Country, with a book by Conor McPherson, using the songs of Bob Dylan, was tried out to success in London. It opened here and, with the pandemic, closed and restarted a couple of times, which is to say, few will have seen it, before it collects Tony awards and closes at the Belasco.

Nineteen songs are from Dylan’s early canon, mostly. Are they unfamiliar or just new in this context? “Sweetheart Like You” is a revelation. The musical is set in a flophouse during the Great Depression, in Duluth, near Dylan’s hometown of Hibbing, Minnesota. The Midwestern accent comes and goes. All the women are strong: Jeannette Bayardelle, Kimber Elayne Sprawl, Luba Mason (pictured). Jennifer Blood, the matinee understudy for Tony-nominated Mare Winningham, was graceful and hilarious, then sang a gorgeous “Like a Rolling Stone." Whereas, the male characters lean toward sinister, with the exception the paroled convict, a boxer, who is gentle and sweet, played by Austin Scott. In a musical break, Ben Mayne shook off the pathos of his character, Elias, with full-on charm and musicianship.

 

There was enough going on in the 1930s without the sleazy preacher and the shady ancient suitor. In spite of broad characters, the actors have chemistry and the world onstage is real. So different in nature from his Irish plays, Conor McPherson's book of Girl from the North Country delivers the dramatic shocks he is known for. One wonders what McPherson would do with, say, the canons of Neil Young or Patti Smith.

 

Bob Dylan has released stunning music just since the pandemic began. Should Conor McPherson write a sequel, please let it be set in the freer and happier 60s, 70s, 80s, or 90s.

 

 

Junior's Times Square had outdoor seating before it became popular. Visitors to New York remember the club sandwiches and pickles Some people dream about the cheesecake and strawberry milkshakes. Junior's initiated an effort to buy back guns. To quote Grub Street: Allan Rosen of Junior's "donated $20,000 to the event, which went to the NYCPF, which in turn used the money to purchase iPads and offer larger-than-usual sums for the guns: a $200 bank card and an iPad for assault rifles and handguns, a $25 bank card for air guns, rifles, and shotguns. ‘Like everything else, guns cost a lot more now than they cost in the past, [Brooklyn DA, Eric] Gonzalez said of the higher totals being offered. ‘So we needed to induce more people to turn in the guns.’”

The Poetry Garden is said to be better in summer and fall, but it’s pretty great in winter, under heat lamps. On the fourteenth floor, attached to Bookmarks lounge, the garden is surrounded by spectacular views of midtown architecture.  

 

It makes one hungry! Meatballs in mushroom gravy, with garlic bread on the side, was a large small plate. A charcuterie platter came with truffle honey, cornichons, and good baguette. Truffled popcorn was freshly popped. (The ground floor of the Library Hotel has a full restaurant, Madison & Vine.) Cocktails include Tequila Mockingbird and Gone With the Gin, with Dorothy Parker Rose Petal Gin. 

 

At the bar, in the hotel reception, and on every floor, are packed bookshelves, but with an occasional gap between books, as though it were permissible to borrow and return, like at the Midtown library a couple of blocks west. The books are not matchy-matchy, arranged by color, yet they are consigned to be ornamental. The constant reader finds herself poring over the bindings for hidden gems—an unappreciated Victorian romance or murder mystery—to borrow and of course return, perhaps with late fees due. Don’t worry, I’ll be back to the Poetry Garden before the seasons change. Happy hour is weeknights, four to six, with $9 wine.  As the several Japanese maple trees turn bright orange, a mulled wine cocktail is added to the drinks menu, and when flowers bloom, frosé.