Who says I can’t clean my apartment? Who says that my attempts at housekeeping are doomed to failure? Who says that my domestic adventures are closer to I Love Lucy than The Donna Reed Show ? Well, me, for one. And my cleaning lady, for another. Who happens to be—by one of those coincidences Freud tells us don’t exist—named Lucy. She is now self-isolating in...

These are strange times. To wit: How the hell could a show as bleak as The Handmaid’s Tale actually improve my outlook on life in this time of global pandemic and economic meltdown? I had no idea. For months, years even, my brother the cinematographer has been telling me to watch The Handmaid’s Tale. But would I listen? Of course not. I already was  watching too...