{"id":5591,"date":"2016-07-18T09:59:15","date_gmt":"2016-07-18T04:29:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/?p=5591"},"modified":"2016-07-18T09:59:15","modified_gmt":"2016-07-18T04:29:15","slug":"amazon-prime-original-new-york-times-modern-love-is-lost-in-translation-therapy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/?p=5591","title":{"rendered":"New York Times\u2019 Modern Love is Lost in Translation: Therapy is Best Delivered in Text"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

W<\/span><\/p><\/div>

hy do madmen direct <\/span>traffic<\/span><\/a>? You\u2019ve seen them, the ones with sticky hair wearing grubby clothes and a smile wholly at odds with their situation. The ones who flail their arms at the chaos on traffic junctions, with an ostensible sense of control, even though the traffic ignores them entirely. Love can feel a little like that. Those madmen and women are all of us\u2026 and love \u2013 in its presence, its absence, at its strongest, or weakest \u2013 is the traffic snarling around us, completely out of our superintendence.\u00a0<\/span>\n\nBut what if us madmen had an instruction manual? Not one that told us what was right, but one that taught us that it was ok to be wrong? What if we knew that that it was important to be vulnerable. That it wasn\u2019t your responsibility to save everyone you encountered? What if we knew how to bring that traffic to orderliness?\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\n\nThe New York Times\u2019 Modern Love column is that manual for many of us. It is, what I imagine the Fal-e-Hafez must have been for medieval Iranians. The <\/span>ghazals<\/span><\/a> of the Persian poet Hafez Shirazi were believed to offer lost souls just the solution they needed. The legend goes thus: One regarded their problem \/ question in mind, and then sought the \u201cOracle of Shiraz\u201d for guidance. The first line upon which the reader\u2019s eyes fell, would be the answer to the problem.\u00a0<\/span>\n\nIn much the same way, for 15 years, reading a Modern Love column \u2013 any column \u2013 has offered people like me just the answers we needed, even when we didn\u2019t know what the questions were. For, what can a <\/span>romance<\/span><\/a> between a man in his 40s and a woman in her 80s <\/span>not<\/span><\/i> teach you? (Seriously, read <\/span>\u201cWhen Your Greatest Romance Is a Friendship\u201d<\/span><\/a>. I discover something new every time I refer to it.)\u00a0<\/span>\n\nAround the time I told myself I was coming to terms with the <\/span>single life<\/span><\/a>, after spending a year on a conveyor belt of unsuitable boys, in meaningless engagements that were eventually corrosive, I read <\/span>\u201cSwiping Right on Tinder, but Staying Put\u201d<\/span><\/a>. The story detailed a young man\u2019s frantic exchange of messages with a Tinder match, which remains just that \u2013 for neither of the two actually makes an effort to meet the other. A generation with a sea of communication tools at their fingertips, behaving like a bunch of hydrophobes.\u00a0<\/span>\n\nAt that point, this information had seemed oddly comforting. It was therapy.<\/span>\n\n

The New York Times\u2019 Modern Love column is, what I imagine the Fal-e-Hafez must have been for medieval Iranians. <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\nIt was therapy even when I did find someone. A few months ago, my <\/span>partner<\/span><\/a> and I were on a tetchy drive to a beach town six hours away for a short vacation. We\u2019d fought the previous night, and both of us were exhausted, but not enough to actually take the first step toward resolving it. Close to the end of the mostly silent drive, my partner suggested listening to the latest episode of the Modern Love podcast. At the top of the playlist was the innocuously titled <\/span>\u201cIn a Charmed Life, a Road Less Traveled<\/span><\/a>\u201d \u2013 it turned out to be a gut-puncher of a story by Layng Martine Jr., about how he and his wife learned to cope with her paraplegia after a car accident.\u00a0<\/span>\n\nAround the middle of the narration, when she learns that she will never walk again, she says: \u201cIt was all too perfect, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d By this time, my partner and I were trying very hard to hide our tears from each other. At the end, we had to stop the car to take a proper weeping break. Our troubles hadn\u2019t vanished, but they\u2019d been put into perspective; it was an embarrassing reminder of the slightness of our own challenges. In the fights that were to follow, the story doesn\u2019t always prevent me from losing my temper \u2013 but I do always come back to it, once the anger fades.\u00a0<\/span>\n\nAnd so, it was with great anticipation that I awaited the eponymous Amazon Prime Original show, an eight-episode series which dramatises (with fictional flourishes), some well-loved Modern Love columns. It is executive produced and partly written and directed by John Carney, who made the perfectly endearing <\/span>Once<\/span><\/i> and <\/span>Begin Again<\/span><\/i>.\u00a0 Daniel Jones, the editor of the Modern Love column, is also the consulting producer. That this is a TV event, became even more evident with the publication of an updated anthology of columns last month.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\n\nBut I needn\u2019t have held my breath. <\/span>Modern Love<\/span><\/i>, the show, takes everything that accords the column series profundity, and flattens the hell out of it. And the schlocky opening credit soundtrack should be your first alarm bell.\u00a0<\/span>\n\nThe first episode \u201cWhen the Doorman Is Your Main Man\u201d begins with a great opening sequence. It has Maggie, a bumbling nerdy pixie-girl as its main protagonist, who is also cute and white enough to not be a complete loser. She is, obviously, failing at finding love with a stream of feckless <\/span>suitors<\/span><\/a>. Its other main protagonist is Guzmin, the conservative Albanian doorman with a heart of gold, with whom she shares a deep, paternal <\/span>friendship<\/span><\/a> and who serves as her confidante \u2013 and screener \u2013 in her romantic pursuits.\u00a0<\/span>\n\n

Our troubles hadn\u2019t vanished, but they\u2019d been put into perspective; it was an embarrassing reminder of the slightness of our own challenges. <\/p><\/blockquote>\n\nDespite the tremendous promise of the opening, as the episode drones on, you wonder if some things are best left in text. The <\/span>original essay<\/span><\/a> by Julie Margaret Hogben is a warm and fuzzy account of an unlikely relationship. On screen, however, it feels forced and patchy. Thanks to the uneven writing, the actors strain for the kind of chemistry and closeness the essay so effortlessly depicts. It\u2019s easy to imagine the temptation the show\u2019s writers must have felt to use this essay as the opening episode \u2013 it\u2019s one of those classic \u201cbade bade sheheron mein\u2026\u201d kinda set pieces. I just wish they\u2019d spent more time exploring it and treated the essay as a diving board.<\/span>\n\nI skipped ahead to \u201cRallying to Keep the Game Alive\u201d, the Tina Fey-John Slattery episode, based on one of my <\/span>favourite Modern Love essays<\/span><\/a>. Written by Ann Leary, the essay explores a couple\u2019s attempts to save their <\/span>marriage<\/span><\/a> with a little bit of therapy, humour, and a backhand. Fey and Slattery try to make the best of their undercooked roles; they even serve up the most snort-worthy line in the entire series: In response to the therapist\u2019s question about their hobbies, Slattery\u2019s character says \u201ccooking\u201d, to which Fey snarks, \u201cFine, my hobby is using the toilet.\u201d In the original essay, tennis is an important part of how the couple make their return to each other. On screen, tennis is merely what they do between therapy sessions.\u00a0<\/span>\n\nYes, I know it\u2019s a typical \u201cthe book was better\u201d situation. But here\u2019s the thing \u2013 it is even worse when you don\u2019t have the original to compare it with. The couple comes apart at a session, air their grievances at <\/span>dinner<\/span><\/a> afterward, and two minutes later\u2026 are somehow just ok with each other. Where do I sign up for this Rapidex school of epiphanies?\u00a0<\/span>\n\nOn the opposite side is the episode \u201cWhen Cupid Is a Prying Journalist\u201d, which suffers from over explanation. The creator of a <\/span>dating app<\/span><\/a> and a former war photographer swap love stories over the course of an interview. Despite the nice-as-pie premise, there is a cringey turn at every step, where characters stiffly deliver nuggets of wisdom gleaned off of the page of a script. Even though <\/span>you know this is a true story<\/span><\/i>, it all somehow seems implausible.<\/span>\n\nOf course, not all of it is disagreeable. There is the perfectly watchable Anne Hathaway episode, \u201cTake Me as I Am, Whoever I Am\u201d, possibly the most stylish interpretation of <\/span>mental illness<\/span><\/a> I\u2019ve seen on screen. Hathaway wafts across manic and depressive episodes, in and out of NYC supermarkets and restaurants and a gorgeous sunlit apartment. There is \u201cAt the Hospital, an Interlude of Clarity\u201d, starring Sofia Boutella and John Gallagher Jr., which turns the meet-cute into a meet-farce (but still cute). It is peppered with enough insights and smarts and has a lovely aw-shucks quality as to resonate with any young person attempting to date in any city in the world.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\n\n

For at its best, the Modern Love column offers us not just advice, but solace, a warm embrace and a little tonic for your soul.<\/p><\/blockquote> \n\nAnd that\u2019s what the show really is\u2026 a series of stories that would be more at home in a <\/span>New York, I Love You<\/span><\/i> kind of anthology, than a compendium that does justice to the richness of experiences on Modern Love. The city, like a charming but crazed <\/span>boyfriend<\/span><\/a>, is a constant character in the stories. But the screen interpretations leave you cold. They turn you into an unemotional observer to events happening to other people. By contrast the columns include and implicate you, the reader, in the struggles of the characters; you feel their crests and troughs on your skin. Their joys are participative, their triumphs are worth celebrating.\u00a0<\/span>\n\nFor at its best, the Modern Love column offers us not just advice, but solace, a warm embrace and a little tonic for your soul. It all came back full circle for me a few months ago, when I was in the middle of directing a podcast about <\/span>relationships<\/span><\/a>, based on true stories. Several of the writers we spoke to about their bonds with their parents or siblings or <\/span>former lovers<\/span><\/a>, stepped out of the studio, flopped down on the couch, let out a long sigh and said, \u201cThat felt like therapy.\u201d I couldn\u2019t hope for a better compliment.<\/span>\n\nBecause when it comes to love, all of us aren\u2019t just madmen and women. We are recidivists, convicted <\/span>criminals<\/span><\/a> with a tendency to reoffend over and over. And we could all do with a little bit of help and therapy. We could all do with an instruction manual.\u00a0<\/span>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It was with great anticipation that I awaited Modern Love, the Amazon Prime Original show which dramatises, with fictional flourishes, some well-loved Modern Love columns. But I needn\u2019t have held my breath. The show takes everything that makes the column series profound, and flattens the hell out of it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":16,"featured_media":5592,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[82],"tags":[9493,1254,1459,9494,9495,228,1466,4218],"class_list":["post-5591","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-pop-culture","tag-amazon-prime-original","tag-friendship","tag-modern-love","tag-new-york-times-column","tag-new-your-times","tag-relationship","tag-romance","tag-therapy"],"yoast_head":"\nNew York Times\u2019 Modern Love is Lost in Translation: Therapy is Best Delivered in Text<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"It was with great anticipation that I awaited Modern Love, the Amazon Prime Original show which dramatises, with fictional flourishes, some well-loved Modern Love columns. 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The show takes everything that makes the column series profound, and flattens the hell out of it.","breadcrumb":{"@id":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/?p=5591#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/?p=5591"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/?p=5591#primaryimage","url":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/1571656038.png","contentUrl":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/1571656038.png","width":1520,"height":850},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/?p=5591#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"New York Times\u2019 Modern Love is Lost in Translation: Therapy is Best Delivered in Text"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/#website","url":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/","name":"Arr\u00e9","description":"In every person lies a creator and in every creator, an enterprise.","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Person","@id":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/#\/schema\/person\/a403986024318e639db2d7e2d07a9638","name":"Karanjeet Kaur","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/65f79d5108605db3c609d0d6a82625dbb5818671ae43112d56e19e987c81f89f?s=96&d=mm&r=g","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/65f79d5108605db3c609d0d6a82625dbb5818671ae43112d56e19e987c81f89f?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/65f79d5108605db3c609d0d6a82625dbb5818671ae43112d56e19e987c81f89f?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"Karanjeet Kaur"},"url":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/?author=16"}]}},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/1571656038.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5591","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/16"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5591"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5591\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/5592"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5591"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5591"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5591"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}