very nice, very nice

The Swan

2011-11-06T11:30:00.000-05:00

The Swan
by Rainer Maria Rilke

This laboring through what is still undone,
as though, legs bound, we hobbled along the way,
is like the awkward walking of the swan.

And dying--to let go, no longer feel
the solid ground we stand on every day--
is like his anxious letting himself fall

into the water, which receives him gently
and which, as though with reverence and joy,
draws back past him in streams on either side;
while, infinitely silent and aware,
in his full majesty and ever more
indifferent, he condescends to glide.

Translated by Stephen Mitchell, taken from Selected Poems

I Am Vertical

2011-11-02T22:20:00.002-04:00

I Am Vertical
Sylvia Plath

But I would rather be horizontal.
I am not a tree with my root in the soil
Sucking up minerals and motherly love
So that each March I may gleam into leaf,
Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed
Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,
Unknowing I must soon unpetal.
Compared with me, a tree is immortal
And a flower-head not tall, but more startling,
And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.

Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,
The trees and flowers have been strewing their cool odors.
I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.
Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping
I must most perfectly resemble them--
Thoughts gone dim.
It is more natural to me, lying down.
Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
The the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.

the only moving thing was the eye of the blackbird

2010-11-29T15:04:00.002-05:00

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
by Wallace Stevens

Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

II

I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.

III

The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV

A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.

V

I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.

VI

Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

VII

O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?

VIII

I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

IX

When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

X

At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.

XI

He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.

XII

The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.

XIII

It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.

Impersonations

2010-11-28T14:33:00.005-05:00

Someone sent me some youtube clips with impersonations of Chloe Sevigny and Martha Plimpton, which gave me a smile or two.

So you want a phd in the Humanities

2010-10-30T19:40:00.001-04:00

The above video has been making the rounds, and is seen as humourous to academics who recognize themselves and appreciate the 'academic martyrdom' element of the skit. That is, that academics in the humanities accept terrible employment conditions in exchange for getting to pursue their passion.

Underneath that, however, is the fact that academia permits drone-ish thinkers such as the girl in the video to enter academia at all, despite her lack of ideas or insight into literature. At the end of the video, the professor acquiesces to the student's request for a reference letter, indicative of the total lack of standards and corruption within the humanities in academia.

There is much chatter regarding the humanities within academia lately, with the various cuts being made to university budgets. Personally, I welcome such, as art does not really need academia to exist, or even government subsidies such as artist grants. And no, this does not reflect a 'conservative' political agenda on my part; I simply don't believe in the public being required to fund bad artists and thought, which has been the status quo in North America for a while now.

Let the bloodletting begin!

Cheetah Conceived In Circuiting Speed

2010-10-26T15:14:00.004-04:00

This guy has had a hard time. He was rejected by one potential owner, and was later given a home only to be kicked out.

Of course, I can't look at a neglected animal without feeling pity, so I've decided to give him a new home here.

Cheetah Conceived In Circuiting Speed

Amber eyes hide: secret
in leaves—then summer unsheathes
in seizures of green. Livid stripes fly;
all spots blur off—spurred on,

he rends; his renderings gush.
He tears through the bars, past
cardiac blush. The trail of lost
spots lines holes in the mind.

The wild won't rest—his run
can't arrest—his panics
slash anima across savannah sands.

The span of an axis is the path
of his race; the scope of a globe,
after an appetite no man can hold.

Copyright © by Anthony Zanetti

Red Desert - Criterion

2010-10-25T16:00:00.002-04:00

This weekend I had an opportunity to watch a recent DVD acquisition of mine, Antonioni's Red Desert released by Criterion. Previously, I only had a DVD release by Image Entertainment that was released about a decade ago, and it is really a terrible version that does not do the film justice. Obviously, colour is very important in this film, and the Image version was just not a good quality transfer. The Criterion version beautifully restores the film, making the image quality as impressive as it should be.

This film is a personal favourite of mine, and I am an admirer of Antonioni's in general. Check out my poem inspired by this film, and also consult Dan Schneider's essay, which provides fresh insights into the film, and is bound to become a classic piece of film criticism.

American Beauty review

2010-10-24T16:09:00.004-04:00

Check out my review of American Beauty on Cinemension.

You've Changed

2010-02-07T11:46:00.007-05:00

Thought I was dead, didn't you? Not really. What can I say? Sometimes we all need our Emily Dickinson time, where we shut the door on the rest of the world.

I was listening to some music on Youtube last night and thought I'd post a couple of things. It started when I was listening to an mp3 of Paula Cole singing the standard, "You've Changed." I like the track a lot, but I wanted to compare versions with some other singers. I found a version by Sarah Vaughan, and I have to say that vocally, Paula Cole is completely outclassed. Vaughan has an unusual voice, but it shows more power & technical skill than the Cole version (which I can't find on Youtube for comparison).

Stupid Youtube won't allow embedding, so here is the link to the Vaughan version. Below is Vaughan singing "Misty."

I was also listening to versions of the song "Almost Blue," which I have yet to find a decent version of. The song was written by Elvis Costello, and I've heard versions by Everything But The Girl and Gwen Stefani, neither of which are that good. The Gwen one is pretty terrible, actually:

Chet Baker has a version where the instrumental works (though I'm not crazy about his vocal), and Diana Krall has one that is better than Gwen, though I find her to be dull as a singer.

Too bad, I would like to hear a good vocalist interpret that tune.

A strange end to my little post on singers: I found this clip that I'd never seen before of Alanis singing "You've Got A Friend" from the early 90s. I don't really like this song, and I don't think this is a great interp, but it is interesting just because this is before she had released her mature albums. Her Canadian records didn't really feature good compositions to showcase her singing, and she hadn't really developed her own distinctive singing style at that point. This old clip seems closer to what she is now, in some ways.

Not Waving But Drowning

2009-07-12T17:44:00.001-04:00

Not Waving But Drowning
by Stevie Smith

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

MJ...

2009-06-27T16:26:00.004-04:00

I enjoyed some MJ in my day. I was never a huge fan, so I'm not really saddened by his passing, but he has some good tunes. Most of my favourite stuff by him is from the 70s and 80s, I think. I think songs like "Billy Jean," "Wanna Be Starting Something," and "Beat It" were among the best. I think stuff like "Heal The World" sucks. The video below is the last decent single I remember him putting out.

Interview With An Immortal

2009-05-18T12:34:00.002-04:00

Still alive, just quiet. A poem that I wrote last summer:

Interview with an Immortal

I don’t live the finite life, but life revived
within each mind. I’m not a mind, like the kind
I entertain; but when we meet, we share
a brain, where I’m alive, but not contained.

My planet is an active mind, aroused
through time; an ageless host, I know, but note:
parasites don’t enrich a life; I give
back what time invests. Though I have no flesh,

I have a form, and a depth; I just need
a being to give me being. When it leaves,

My end is not a death; just a break between
the lives that give me mine. From a line
my life extends, pulled by needle through each head,
and hurts sublime: suturing immortal life.

Copyright © by Anthony Zanetti

Not Fair - Lily Allen vs. Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins

2009-04-19T14:24:00.005-04:00

I was just watching this video and since it is has some 70s-ish fashions and hair, I thought I'd post it. Somewhere in the song, I heard a line about giving head!

That video actually reminded me of this one, which is a bit older, but same general concept. More gross outfits.

The Hours

2009-04-01T00:57:00.003-04:00

Why not sprinkle some greatness onto your life today? Click for my post about a great film & director over at the Cinemension blog.

The Reader

2009-03-29T12:53:00.003-04:00

Starring these two above, among others. Click for my post on this bad film.

Nick and the Candlestick

2009-03-23T18:48:00.001-04:00

Click.

yeah, yeah, yeah

2009-03-11T18:25:00.007-04:00

There is a new single and video out by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and it is growing on me as I re-listen. I am admittedly partial to the more electronic background on this track. The singer's voice reminds me a bit of Chrissie Hynde.

Here's one of their older ones that I've always liked:

Secretly...

2009-03-10T00:57:00.007-04:00

Since Jessica made a 'confessional' post about liking John Denver, I thought I'd post one of those songs/videos that I secretly like...even though it is very un-me and I have never really been one to care for most rock or guitars or 'bands' or headbanging. But I've always kind of liked this one since I saw it as a teenager, watching some video marathon of the 'best music videos' on Much Music.

And that's my dark secret for the day.

Pather Panchali

2009-02-27T00:13:00.003-05:00

Click for a post on the movie Pather Panchali, a clip from the film, & Dan's review.

Poetryworld

2009-02-19T20:10:00.007-05:00

Think it's the name of some great new theme park? Well, you're wrong. It's a term that I read in this review of the new novel The Winter Vault by Anne Michaels. You can read the review over at the Quill and Quire website.

The term amuses me because it's all about what's wrong with poetic prose...or even just most poetry these days. Here's the relevant part from the review:

Whether or not the book succeeds depends on the reader’s appetite for the language that thrives in what might be called Poetryworld.

Poetryworld is a hermetic, overperfumed dimension in which characters start out as sensitive, artistic, professorial, and tasteful, and then become even more so. (“Jean, what I said about sadness … what I mean is the building and the space it possesses should help us be alive, it should allow for the heeding of things.”) In Poetryworld there is no vulgarity or surprise; there are no brand names, guffaws, hangnails, chase scenes, blow jobs, or other people in the world who are more interesting than our heroes. There are no meals without crusty bread and rustic cheese, landscapes that aren’t wracked with sorrow, or lovers who aren’t artists. Characters think and speak in weird, gnomic sentences – “You use that marsh like the desert, she said” – or in thudding, cryptic observations: “How much a woman’s body belongs to herself, how much the clay of a man’s gaze.” The word that best suits Poetryworld is suffused. Everything, from bricks to bodies, is full of portent. A stone is rarely a chunk of rock: it’s a talisman, or a relic, or a mute witness to agony.

Because Michaels is such an unrelenting artist – she bejewels every square inch – The Winter Vault ends up giving us everything but space. No memory or death or tragedy or whisper of the past is allowed to pass without poetic handling, so readers are left with few mysteries or personal interpretations or stray shadings to fill in for themselves. Some people will love all that writerly fulsomeness; others might admire the writer’s vision, but long for more room to breathe.

While I have not read this book, it sounds like the author is one of those writers who wasn't particularly good at poetry, and therefore her attempts at poetic prose tank as well. I think this is actually quite common, as I've seen a few examples of bad 'poetic' prose by people who wrote bad poetry. Whether poetry or prose, it is always the same: humourless, overly serious and ringing with profundity. None of the hallmarks of truly good poetry are ever there, such as concision or a mnemonic phrase.

I think it is too bad that so much of this is what passes for 'art fiction', because it just turns people off of poetry, or prose with poetic elements. You can see some of Anne Michaels' poetry here, and Holy Fuck is some of it over-written. Reminds me of Jorie Graham, in that it is endless waves of pseudo-poetry where nothing sticks even after she's written line after line of attempted lyricism.

Sivvy on a Sunday

2009-02-15T09:00:00.003-05:00

I've been sneaking some poetry in between prose readings, lately. Jessica made some interesting points a while back that I thought I'd write about. She made some positive remarks about Plath's 'juvenilia,' which are tucked at the back of her Collected; Jessica remarked that there were many strong poems in there that were better than some of the 'mature' ones that appear at the beginning of that volume. Here's an early Plath sonnet:

April Aubade

Worship this world of watercolor mood
in glass pagodas hung with veils of green
where diamonds jangle hymns within the blood
and sap ascends the steeple of the vein.

A saintly sparrow jargons madrigals
to waken dreamers in the milky dawn,
while tulips bow like a college of cardinals
before that papal paragon, the sun.

Christened in a spindrift of snowdrop stars,
where on pink-fluted feet the pigeons pass
and jonquils sprout like Solomon’s metaphors,
my love and I go garlanded with grass.

Again we are deluded and infer
that somehow we are younger than we were.

Poems like this show that early on, Plath had excellent technical skill. There are some unique lines, like "the sap ascends the steeple of the vein," and the closing couplet is excellent. While I wouldn't say that this one is as good as some of the great late poems she wrote, it is still a good poem that is better than much of what I see in poetry journals these days. It is interesting to consider just how Ted Hughes (who edited the Collected) has shaped the reception of Plath's work; most often, people protest how he re-arranged Ariel for publication, but not how he relegated strong poems to 'juvenilia' status, or even how he represented Plath poorly in a badly compiled Selected that he edited (or even in the deadly dull Johnny Panic prose collection).

O well, even if Ted sucked as a poet and editor, he could at least inspire some great poetry. I thought I'd post another Plath poem written in the recognizable Ariel style even though it is not in either the His or Hers versions of that book. Yes, you could say the title isn't the most creative, but what follows has excellent phrasing and imagery that permanently lodge themselves in your brain.

Event

How the elements solidify!—
The moonlight, that chalk cliff
In whose rift we lie

Back to back. I hear an owl cry
From its cold indigo.
Intolerable vowels enter my heart.

The child in the white crib revolves and sighs,
Opens its mouth now, demanding.
His little face is carved in pained, red wood.

Then there are the stars—ineradicable, hard.
One touch: it burns and sickens.
I cannot see your eyes.

Where apple bloom ices the night
I walk in a ring,
A groove of old faults, deep and bitter.

Love cannot come here.
A black gap discloses itself.
On the opposite lip

A small white soul is waving, a small white maggot.
My limbs, also, have left me.
Who has dismembered us?

The dark is melting. We touch like cripples.

Kittens!

2009-02-12T21:26:00.003-05:00

I think this video is so funny, especially since I used to essentially do the same thing as a kid. That is, I'd imbue static images with various absurd narratives that only a kid would think up.

Persona

2009-02-07T11:40:00.007-05:00

Check out my post over at the Cinemension Blog and the accompanying review written by Dan on this excellent film.

Neil Hester - Another Attempt

2009-02-04T08:00:00.003-05:00

Today I'm hosting another poem, this time by a writer I've not yet featured. This is a poem that was discussed some time ago on the Cosmoetica e-list, and some people felt that it could use some revisions and tweaking; I did not. I think it works fine as it is, particularly since it is one that I remembered even though months have passed since I last looked at it. It is concise and formally tight, and the word choices work well with the tone of the poem. More of Neil's poetry can be sampled in a couple of different places.

Another Attempt

Colors begin to abandon the sky,
Communing in glorious hues;
And if you look outside, you'll spy
A pair of little shoes.

Watch them swiftly journey west!
And guiding them, a daring child
Runs hard against the wind to best
The vast and lovely wild.

He failed to catch the aging sky;
And yet, there is no sorrow.
Our little chaser will not cry.
He'll try again tomorrow.

Copyright © by Neil Hester

Study of Two Pears

2009-02-01T09:15:00.001-05:00

I purchased some pears this past week, and watched them ripen and change colour. I just ate the last one. So of course, I had to post this poem, esp. since Jessica's recent posting of "Man Carrying Thing" put me in a Stevens mode. I particularly admire the last line of this poem, after all that precedes it.

Study of Two Pears

I
Opusculum paedagogum.
The pears are not viols,
Nudes or bottles.
They resemble nothing else.

II
They are yellow forms
Composed of curves
Bulging toward the base.
They are touched red.

III
They are not flat surfaces
Having curved outlines.
They are round
Tapering toward the top.

IV
In the way they are modelled
There are bits of blue.
A hard dry leaf hangs
From the stem.

V
The yellow glistens.
It glistens with various yellows,
Citrons, oranges and greens
Flowering over the skin.

VI
The shadows of the pears
Are blobs on the green cloth.
The pears are not seen
As the observer wills.

that bad inaugural poem by what's her face

2009-01-26T20:43:00.003-05:00

I am so bored by your average run of the mill 'name' critic. I just read this article by Adam Kirsch about that tedious poem that was read at Obama's inauguration. Kirsch at least mentions the word "cliché" at the end of the piece, but otherwise it's the same stuffy literary bullshit that never gets to the point. Ok, Adam, we get that you know lots about Virgil. Thanks for the history lesson.

I get annoyed that so many critics of poetry just cannot get to the point, because they are too busy showing how "literary" they are. The reason the poem sucked is because it was prosaic and lacking in music, full of trite, clichéd or flat phrasing, and because it was just a dull use of the language.

A lot of bad poems fail for these reasons. If Kirsch and other critics and editors could recognize this, they could save us all a few yawns.

Revolutionary Road film

2009-01-23T21:44:00.004-05:00

Did a post on the movie Revolutionary Road over at the Cinemension blog. Not a review per se, just a casual post summing up some of my thoughts on the movie.

Not Enough Hip Hop!

2009-01-21T08:30:00.003-05:00

I was feeling that my blog just doesn't have enough hip hop, so I though I'd throw in some courtesy of Bert and Ernie:

Funny how perfectly some of those clips fit with the music. Of course, Sesame Street actually made some amusing musical numbers, including this take on "Rebel Yell." I really like the "L" on the lawn and his "la la las." I hadn't seen this since watching Sesame Street in the 80s.

Jessica Powers

2009-01-19T08:30:00.000-05:00

That's right, a different Jessica. I was looking at some of her poems on the Neglected Poets page. Generally speaking I'm in a 'poetic' mindset at the moment, after a period of reading more prose. This poem, "The Tear In The Shade," grabbed my attention as I was scanning her works.

The Tear In The Shade

I tore the new pale window shade with slightly
more than a half-inch tear.
I knew the Lady would be shocked to see
what I had done with such finality.
I went outside to lose my worry there.
Later when I came back into the room
it seemed that nothing but the tear was there.

There had been furniture, a rug, and pictures,
and on the table flowers in purple bloom.
It was amazing how they dwindled, dwindled,
and how the tear grew till it filled the room

George Washington

2009-01-18T12:20:00.004-05:00

Click to read more about the film, and watch a small excerpt.

All The Real Girls

2009-01-11T11:20:00.002-05:00

I've made my first post over at the Cinemension blog, about David Gordon Green's All The Real Girls. Clickety-click.

Cinemension blog

2009-01-08T23:55:00.005-05:00

If you haven't already, check out the new Cinemension blog, a sort of companion to the Cinemension section of Cosmoetica. I'm among the group of people who can post at this blog, so I'll probably put more of my film-related posts up there, if they relate to Cosmo reviews. I'll probably make a post there in the next couple of days or so.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

2009-01-06T23:23:00.005-05:00

First post of the new year--and what better way to start things off than with a poem? I was looking at this poetry anthology called The Rattle Bag. It is edited by Ted Hughes and Seamus Heaney, two poets I don't think are very good, from what I've read of them. And from what I've seen so far, they aren't great editors either. The anthology is a total mish-mash of material of greatly varying quality. Still, it is interesting to read through to consider what is good and what isn't and why, and to stumble upon poems by well-known names that I'm not familiar with.

Jessica once recommended Gerard Manley Hopkins for his music. The sound was definitely what stood out for me in this poem I'm posting, particularly since it came after a more conventionally-rhymed poem by Auden. There are some other poems I've read by Hopkins that I might prefer, but this poem gave a nice little jolt after reading some hit and miss selections from Teddy. It is also a sonnet, a form that has been on my mind of late.

***

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves -- goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me: for that I came.

I say more: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is --
Christ. For Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces.

Betty Smith: Life of the Author of A Tree Grows In Brooklyn

2008-12-26T00:44:00.009-05:00

Hope everyone is enjoying the holidays. I just finished reading the Betty Smith biography by Valerie Raleigh Yow after a friend lent it to me. It was actually quite interesting to read about Betty Smith's evolution as a writer. It is easy to associate Betty Smith with her young Francie Nolan character, and to forget that Betty Smith was a mature writer (chronologically and artistically) when she published that book. I mentioned to Jessica that writers like Betty Smith or Wallace Stevens make the idea that one has to publish their masterpiece at 22 seem ridiculous.

Though Smith is known as a novelist, she had her training in theatre and wrote many plays. There were some collaborations where someone else would generate an idea and then she would shape that content, using all of her technical skills in writing. I thought it was similar to how sometimes, one can write a poem that utilizes 'borrowed' material, but it is the poetic shaping of this material where the 'uniqueness' is particularly important.

Despite her experience as a playwright, she seemed reluctant to write for Hollywood, and one screenwriting experience that she had with a European filmmaker didn't end up working out. She made a point about how she didn't want to have several other writers come in and alter her work, which is typical with Hollywood scripts. This is where I think writing poetry or novels has an advantage, because unless you're James Patterson, these are not collaborative endeavors.

It was not pleasant to read about her declining health in her last few years. It is hard to read about a once great writer losing her ability to communicate, losing her power over words. And, despite the fact that she was a best-selling and famous writer, she wound up in a home where she had an untreated broken hip and was malnourished before she died.

At first, it was strange to see Smith's childhood in Brooklyn so quickly summed up, after reading the detailed and rich descriptions in Smith's own novel. But there was much that happened between then and the writing of her first novel, including years spent on honing her craft. Yow does a good job of giving the reader a sense of Smith's life, and her prose is clear and suitable for a general reader (if not as powerful in depicting Smith's life as Smith's own prose).

I think the author captured what Betty Smith was like as a person, though I do disagree with her views on the first 'version' of ATGIB. Apparently the book was supposed to be shorter, and was to end right after Johnny Nolan's death. I don't agree that this would have been a more powerful ending. Much would have been lost if the later years, where Francie grows up, were left out. You would miss the 'growth' alluded to in the title. I also think that the biographer could have gone a little more into how great the writing was in that first novel, and how the writing in the later novels differed from it. ATGIB was obviously the most popular, but Jessica once mentioned that the follow-up, Tomorrow Will Be Better, was mediocre. I would have just been interested to hear more critical commentary on the prose, and not just the typical stuff critics said about Betty Smith's books, which was usually that they were 'sentimental'.

Otherwise, I enjoyed learning more about the life of this author I admire. Though I did find it amusing when I read about Betty Smith reading To The Lighthouse....

'Desk Space'...and Oscar

2008-12-15T17:33:00.005-05:00

Networking in literature is very important, so Oscar here has posted a photo of his writing desk. This is where he writes all of his novels. It is refreshing to see a writing desk being put to good use, when so many go to waste these days.

Her Kansas

2008-12-12T07:00:00.008-05:00

It's time for another guest poem. This poem of Jessica's slipped into my mind a few days ago, and she said I could post it--so here it is:

Her Kansas

“It was as though for a time I didn’t exist.”
- Mary Henry, Carnival of Souls

Her shopping silhouette hangs
lingerie beside mannequin-
nested aisles. Leaning
wrists wreathe plastic
beads, flimsy necks coax
spruced-up tresses. She wonders
will real shoulders ever feel
such dresses? Suspended,

is it a skirt,
she tries, or some slip
with distance, making her sick
from these drifts,
unnoticed? An overcoat clings
purse to wrist: is it another
dimension, doors,
external, or is she
the roar of trees that contains her,
as any other spirit
of place (department store/
five and dime) or time
that does not survive
eye or face?

Copyright © by Jessica Schneider

Some good music that provides sound links throughout the poem, as well as some phrasing/images that linger in their peculiarity, like the 'mannequin-nested aisles' and the 'roar of trees,' or wondering if 'real shoulders will ever feel such dresses.' If you've seen Carnival of Souls, you will recognize certain elements of the poem and the general mood it evokes. And if you haven't seen Carnival of Souls, why not check it out on Youtube? That's what I did when I couldn't be arsed to walk to the rental store one day last winter.

Stardust Memories

2008-12-09T00:26:00.004-05:00

Stardust Memories is probably one of the best movies I've seen by Woody Allen. It is very much a "Woody Allen film" but at the same time it is different from the other ones I've seen. It has a greater complexity to it than something like Match Point, and is just riskier in terms of what Allen is doing narratively. It is also the most visually striking of the films of his that I've seen. I might say that I prefer Another Woman emotionally, because of the characterization and the performance by Gina Rowlands, but in terms of the cinematography and narrative risks I think this one is better.

Just as there were Bergman comparisons with some of Allen's other films, this film has been compared to Fellini's 8 1/2. While the black and white film and the opening sequence make one think of 8 1/2, Stardust is distinct from the Fellini film. Dan gets into this in his review, which I linked to above. I think it is a good example of an artwork being so strong that the 'influences' cannot dominate it.

I watched this film twice last week...there is so much happening in this film that watching it once really isn't enough. There are many memorable scenes, like the edited close-ups of Dorrie, or Isobel's 'facial exercises,' or the scene with Dorrie that is pictured above. The film is full of these little moments that are mnemonic in their visual construction, and linger in one's mind in the same way a line of poetry will.

Dan's essay is useful because while it can highlight some of those individual moments, he is also able to pull back and look at the whole of the film. This means he has some interesting comments about the idea of 'fear of failure' in the film and how this relates to the artist and art. He also takes on Roger Ebert's review of Stardust Memories. I don't agree with the Ebert review; at one point, he says:

"Woody Allen has always loved jazz and the great mainstream American popular music. There's a lot of it in Stardust Memories, but it doesn't amplify or illustrate the scene this time_it steals them. There's a scene where Allen remembers a wonderful spring morning spent with a former love (Charlotte Rampling), and how he looked up in his apartment to see her there, and for a moment felt that life was perfect. As Allen shows that moment, Louis Armstrong sings "Stardust" on the sound track, and something happens that should not be allowed to happen. We find our attention almost entirely on Armstrong's wonderfully loose jazz phrasing."

The image he is referring to is, again, the one pictured above. But the visuals and voice-over by the Allen character are more important to this scene than Ebert thinks. Here's Dan's description of that moment:

"He seemingly dies, and gives a posthumous speech at the hotel, wherein he describes the one moment that almost made his life worth living. The song Stardust, by Louis Armstrong, plays in the background, as Bates and Dorrie lounge in his apartment. She’s flipping through a magazine, lying on the floor, and a spring breeze blows into the apartment as bates longs for her. She looks up and sees him eyeing her, and smiles, all the while displaying a wide plenum of emotions without a word spoken, which perfectly matches Bates’ description of what he sensed."

The acting in that long take, and the "wide plenum of emotions" expressed via the facial expressions, is what really makes that scene stick in my mind, not the underlying music. Kind of scary to think that Ebert is sort of 'the norm' in film criticism after comparing the two reviews.

Losers...or, A Little Help From My Friends

2008-12-03T20:43:00.015-05:00

There is a lame 'debate' going on in Canadian poetry because, surprise surprise, jurors for the Governor General's Award for Poetry awarded the prize to one of their friends. One juror blurbed the winning book, by Jacob Scheier, while another juror was acknowledged in the book. The website Bookninja posted an old email by the juror Di Brandt, which makes it clear that she and Scheier are friends. This has led a few bad poets and critics to muse on 'ethics'.

Of course, nobody who knows anything about contemporary poetry is surprised by any of this, as this has been par for the course in both Canada and the USA for years. How else would Mark Doty have won the National Book Award if he hadn't known the right people? (You can sample his bad poetry here)

What's funny with the situation in Canada is that most poets are fine with networking and being promoted by their friends when it comes to getting published (and no, it isn't hard to tell who's friends with who when you survey the scene). Yet for whatever reason, it's not ok when this goes on with a prize. Some have tried to make this about the fact that public money is involved with this prize, but the real issue is people promoting the bad art made by their friends, lovers, etc.

If the Scheier book was good and Brandt had selected it because of its artistic merit, then there would really be no 'conflict of interest.' Promoting friends isn't a problem if the work of those friends is excellent and worth public notice. But of course, nobody has mentioned this. Had the connections to the winner not been obvious, and had the networking been more subtle, few would have said anything about the matter...even if the book was bad.

I find it interesting that George Murray at Bookninja would think he is doing us a favour by posting Brandt's email and 'exposing the corruption.' A couple of months back I forwarded him my essay on Carmine Starnino, which discussed the bad criticism and networking that resulted in a poorly assembled anthology. Murray didn't seem so interested in sharing that with his readers. But I guess that isn't surprising, given that Murray is pals with Starnino and was included in that anthology I critiqued.

This is why I think all the protest is meaningless. None of you are really going to change, and you know it.

Au Hasard Balthazar

2008-11-27T23:40:00.014-05:00

Tonight I watched this Bresson film, since Dan wrote a lengthy review of it a while back and Jessica has also spoken highly of the film. The essay is actually a unique take on the film, because Dan departs from the more typical approaches, which usually involve looking too much into the religious elements in the film. Watching the film myself, I did not find that reading everything in terms of Catholicism was at all necessary. There is an essay on the Criterion website that covers some of that territory, and none of it is particularly illuminating.

There is also an interesting discussion on the use of ellipses in Bresson vs. Ozu:

Bresson will lead the viewer up to the moment an event will occur, and then jumps over it. His ellipses have specificity, and occur because there would be a certain amount of redundancy in seeing what ‘has’ to occur, do to the intensely strong direction of his narrative and mis-en-scene. Ozu, on the other hand, uses far larger ellipses. He does not lead the viewer right up to a moment where the outcome is a near inevitability. He will elide over a scene or moment for which there are multiple outcomes or interpretations, well before the looseness of his comfortably paced narrative gains firmness and tightens; therefore drawing the viewer back into the film, in a participatory manner, by asking the viewer to figure out what must have occurred, due to the circumstances that follow. This is not an insignificant tactical difference.

Aside from capturing the different narrative approaches of those directors, this is a passage worth keeping in the back of one's mind, for the writers out there.

Dan also discusses the suggested incest that occurs between the main female character and her father. I didn't see this discussed anywhere else when I did a Google search. It is dealt with in a very subtle manner, and not at all how you would expect such a topic to be dealt with in a film made today (I'm imagining a film with a screenplay by someone like Alice Sebold where it dominates the whole film). Reading the essay after watching the Au Hasard Balthazar, it seems like a fairly straightfoward conclusion, so it is odd to think that it came 40 years after the film's release. It just shows how much cleanup is necessary in film studies, and criticism in general.

Last Year In Marienbad

2008-11-17T22:49:00.018-05:00

Yes, I've been kind of inactive lately on the blog front. I'm in the mood to kind of hibernate and just read or watch movies or listen to music. I just watched this Alain Resnais film earlier this evening. I do remember seeing the opening of this film years ago as a student, as the camera is moving underneath some chandeliers; otherwise, I remember nothing about this film, so it might have been just a clip shown in class. I do remember seeing a couple of other Resnais films, including Night and Fog.

This is a visually stunning film with some eerie organ music in the soundtrack, especially when the image I've included above appears. The editing is also excellent, and the overall effect is something unlike any other film I've watched.

Aside from the unique visual style of this film, there are some points of contact with other films. In his essay on the film, Dan mentions Carnival of Souls, and aside from the use of the organ there are some other unusual similarities that he discusses. He also talks about some of the bad criticism that has surrounded this film, with quotes involving everything from Oedipal nonsense to 'meta-narrative' blah blah blah. It seems that 20th century art criticism always preferred over the top and irrelevant theorizing to the more straightforward explanations from the works themselves.

How do you summarize this kind of film, in a typical 'movie plot' way? A man and a woman have an affair--maybe? A friend asked me what the movie Another Woman is about the other day, and I didn't know what to say. An academic reflects on her life? It's hard to sum it up in a way that doesn't make it sound dull. This is why I hated the whole practice of creating 'log lines' in some of those production classes I took as a student. Not everything lends itself to a single-line summary.

Anyhow, this is another one of those movies I've enjoyed courtesy of the Great Film List and Dan's reviews. I agree with him that it is just one of those films you have to watch for yourself, it isn't really the kind of thing that you can 'read about' in terms of plot description. It is a visual feast, and a nice antidote to the tedium of an average workday, so I do recommend it.

Girls Not Quite Like Us

2008-11-06T17:30:00.003-05:00

I have a review/essay up of the book Girls Like Us, about Joni Mitchell, Carole King and Carly Simon. Please click here to check it out.

Here's an 80s performance of "You're So Vain," where where there are a lot of billowy pastel shirts.

Here's a 70s performance of "California."

Carole King

2008-10-28T17:30:00.002-04:00

Jessica did a post on a songwriter yesterday, and mentioned Carole King. I'm preparing a review for a book that discusses Carole King, and have been Youtubing a few of her songs over the last couple of weeks. Prior to her hit Tapestry album, she wrote quite a few hit songs that you probably know, such as "The Loco-motion" or this song:

Here's one from Tapestry (an album I don't actually have, but might consider getting).

Revolutionary Road

2008-10-26T12:45:00.005-04:00

I wanted to do a post on this book I read a few weeks ago. I heard about it from Jessica after she sent me a link to the trailer for the upcoming film (which stars Leo and Kate of Titanic fame). The book is called Revolutionary Road and it's written by Richard Yates. Jessica has a review of the book up here. I admit that it was Jessica's review, moreso than the film trailer, that piqued my interest. There is a part that she quotes from the book that has the phrase 'shapes of hatred' and that phrase stuck with me and made me curious.

I managed to find a copy at my library. Overall it was a very good book, and the prose is excellent. I have to say, if I had to describe this book in terms of its 'plot' it would sound fairly conventional. A novel about an unhappy couple struggling against conformity in 1950s suburbia, complete with affairs and uniform suburban housing. As Jessica said in the review, this has been done so many times. It is still being done, actually. I saw this movie at a film festival recently called Lymelife, and it was a fairly boring melodrama about unhappy WASPs in 70s suburbia. A friend of mine said aspects of it reminded her of The Ice Storm, which I remember as being a better film overall. But what made Lymelife such a forgettable movie was that it wasn't a well-written screenplay.

The Yates book shows that if the writing is good, a writer can pretty much tackle any subject, no matter how overdone. The book had strong characterization and could be quite funny. It could also be devastating in how it depicted conformity in suburbia as well as the dull workplace of Frank Wheeler. Though Frank and April are not really 'artists' (though April was a failed actress), their plans to take off to Europe so that Frank could 'find himself' reminds me of artistic types who fetishize Europe. Generally I think the book has aged quite well. Though it is set in the 1950s, and though what happens in the final section is specific to that time period, much of what is described could easily be transported to the current day--unfortunately.

I would include some quotes from the book, but I had to return it to the library, as someone else had it on hold. The film has made people curious about the book, and if the film sucks, at least it will have brought the book to more readers.

Elections, Canadian and Otherwise

2008-10-15T23:00:00.003-04:00

We had an election in Canada yesterday, and was it ever a dull one. Prior to the election we had a Conservative minority government, and our PM Stephen Harper wanted to try to bump that up to a majority. So an election took place a year before we were actually supposed to have one.

Apparently we had a record low with voter turnout.

The result, after all the votes were in? Another Conservative minority! It does feel like the entire thing was just a big waste of time (not to mention, $). None of the candidates for the various parties were particularly exciting. The only good thing that I think might come of this election is that certain parties might be forced to look for new leaders.

The upcoming US election is more interesting to me, frankly. Obama is much more exciting to me than Stephan Dion (leader of the Liberal party), and the Republicans have at least been providing some entertainment via Sarah Palin. Interestingly, an article brought this up when discussing possible reasons for our low voter turnout:

The current U.S. election has overshadowed interest in the Canadian election because there is a more distinctive choice in the U.S. election and a more charismatic candidate, Barack Obama. - Darrell Bricker, Ipsos Reid, research firm

Anyway, after telling you that little bedtime story about the Canadian election, I'm going to bed.

2 or 3 things I know about Hitchcock

2008-10-11T19:59:00.004-04:00

I have a review on M & C of The Alfred Hitchcock Story. Check it out.

new single

2008-10-03T11:00:00.000-04:00

The new Alanis video is out. Personally I prefer the album version of this song; it is just piano and vocal and is much more effective.

Me and Emily D

2008-09-29T19:33:00.007-04:00

I'm being a blog hermit lately, so I thought I would post some poetry by Emily Dickinson. I found her anthology poems to be intoxicating when I was in school—same with the short poems of William Blake.

There is a joke about how Emily's poetry all has the same template in terms of her music. In the Paglia book Break, Blow, Burn, just before the Dickinson poems, she includes a Whitman excerpt from "Song of Myself," and his poetry has a much more organic musical unfolding. Regardless, Dickinson has some peculiar lines that stick in your memory. I often think about the "dots on a disc of snow" line.

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers —
Untouched by Morning —
And untouched by Noon —
Lie the meek members of the Resurrection —
Rafter of Satin — and Roof of Stone!

Grand go the Years — in the Crescent — above them —
Worlds scoop their Arcs —
And Firmaments — row —
Diadems — drop — and Doges — surrender —
Soundless as dots — on a Disc of Snow —

"Safe in their Alabaster Chambers" is one that always comes to mind when I think of Dickinson now, but I guess my favourite when I was younger was this one:

My Life had stood — a Loaded Gun —
In Corners — till a Day
The Owner passed — identified —
And carried Me away —

And now We roam in Sovereign Woods —
And now We hunt the Doe —
And every time I speak for Him —
The Mountains straight reply —

And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow —
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through —

And when at Night — Our good Day done —
I guard My Master's Head —
'Tis better than the Eider-Duck's
Deep Pillow — to have shared —

To foe of His — I'm deadly foe —
None stir the second time —
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye —
Or an emphatic Thumb —

Though I than He — may longer live
He longer must — than I —
For I have but the power to kill,
Without — the power to die —

Your House

2008-09-18T23:19:00.004-04:00

You oughta know who has just started her North American tour. I have her new songs on repeat these days. Here is an old song, performed a capella several years ago. She opened her 2005 concerts with this and it showed off her powerful pipes.

James Emanuel - Emmett Till

2008-09-12T21:21:00.001-04:00

A few days ago I pulled my copy of James Emanuel's Whole Grain off of the shelf, and while looking through it, I came across this short poem, "Emmett Till." I had never heard of Emmett Till before reading this poem last year, and a Google search filled me in on the story, as well as providing some grisly images.

With this subject matter, the poem could easily have taken on an angrier tone or a political slant with a different poet. Instead, it manages to be haunting without being graphic or heavy-handed.

Emmett Till

I hear a whistling
Through the water.
Little Emmett
Won't be still.
He keeps floating
Round the darkness,
Edging through
The silent chill.
Tell me, please,
That bedtime story
Of the fairy
River Boy
Who swims forever,
Deep in treasures,
Necklaced in
A coral toy.

Ariel was glad he had written his poems.

2008-08-31T11:39:00.005-04:00

A while ago Jessica pointed me towards the Voices & Visions site, where each episode features poetry and biographical info on various American poets. I was happy to see the poem The Planet On The Table featured at the end of the Wallace Stevens episode. It is a poem that has been stuck in my head a lot lately, and I reread it often.

The Planet On The Table

Ariel was glad he had written his poems.
They were of a remembered time
Or of something seen that he liked.

Other makings of the sun
Were waste and welter
And the ripe shrub writhed.

His self and the sun were one
And his poems, although makings of his self,
Were no less makings of the sun.

It was not important that they survive.
What mattered was that they should bear
Some lineament or character,

Some affluence, if only half-perceived,
In the poverty of their words,
Of the planet of which they were part.

Dissecting Carmine - new essay on Canadian poetry

2008-08-21T17:28:00.006-04:00

Please check out my new essay on Cosmoetica. It is an essay that discusses the critic Carmine Starnino, his anthology The New Canon, and the poet Robert Hayden. This has been a 'backburner' project for a while, so I'm happy to see it finally completed.

Thanks goes to Dan for hosting this essay and for the last-minute editing suggestions.

Early Summer

2008-08-13T17:00:00.004-04:00

Last night I watched a movie called Early Summer by Yasujiro Ozu. It is a film about a family and the marriage of one of the daughters, Noriko, and it is a more character-based film as opposed to plot-based. This works especially well since the film is well-acted, and as I was watching I reflected on how so much of what the actor communicates through their facial expressions and body language transcends any language barrier [not that such is truly a barrier when one has subtitles, but you get what I mean]. It is another example of why focusing only on elements 'specific to cinema' is stupid when considering what makes a film work, artistically.

There are some good symbolic moments that linger in the memory, such as the balloon floating away into the sky that Noriko's parents watch, or the glitter of seas at the beginning, but there are also many 'light' moments, and overall the film is a nice change in tone after immersing oneself in Antonioni's 'Alienation' films. And I just had to say that the two child characters show that maybe self-absorbed, ill-behaved little brats aren't just a product of contemporary bad parenting after all.

Singular Motherhood

2008-08-08T07:05:00.003-04:00

This is a poem I wrote a few months ago, around when I wrote the Rothko poem. Jessica had once suggested that I try something different from focusing on images, so that was something that maybe was rattling around in my mind as I began to work on this poem. As a result, this poem really only has one 'imagery' moment, and otherwise it's more about the character and the narrative she tells, and using the sounds to keep it all together.

Singular Motherhood

Housewife, how benign.
That life’s not mine.

I raised them fine,
looked after each one.
Now I want fun, so I spend
what I’ve spun. Lives

Like my son’s, escaping
to college before his policy was claimed.
No more stomach pains for him.
So I turned to his kin,

Insured in the spring.
Her sickness now crippling,
I unfailingly sit,
holding cold nails with manicured lines
in arsenic white.
Her shrivelling cries, I always attend.
Paralysed by the love I inject,
in the hospital bed,

She’s just like her dad. Dead,
I had my way with his heart
through his stomach; both stopped.
Nobody thought
of what he’d been fed. “Hepatitis,” they said.
I got a cheque.

And I spent it on dresses, jewels and etcetera.
Creditors called,
Call my son’s what I said.
Since he’s not dead, he should pay
for my buying.
My logic is fine.

Though my credit is dire.
Bad cheques got me arrested,
and some friend was a snitch
about those needles I’d give
to my daughter. Her father, they wondered.
My son dug him up.
This needs to be done. “Of course,” I agreed.

Autopsy’s next week.
I needed a break, so I drove from our street
and our lives and their ends
and even our state. A new life’s what I’ll raise.

Something’s wrong with my brain.
That’s what I’ll say
to the next one I find.
And that I’m set to inherit, before dying
from some cancer of the mind.
I hope he likes blondes,

Because that’s what I see
in the future of me,
sort of like a twin;
the one I keep in
till she marries again.

Copyright © by Anthony Zanetti

In Cold Blood

2008-08-05T19:31:00.010-04:00

I've just finished reading Truman Capote's In Cold Blood, after coming across an old copy. It was a well-written book, and the only one I've read by this author. He writes about a true crime in the format of a novel, but the writing and characterization are far better than your average true crime book. That said, I think this book is very good as a novel--in terms of how it was written, as art, not how faithful or accurate it was in terms of representing 'the truth.' Compare the book to James Frey's A Million Little Pieces though, and you'll see that, matters of 'truth' aside, Frey has none of Capote's prose skill. Capote is good at writing in the voices of his various characters, and despite the 'sensational' subject matter, there is none of the endless melodrama of the Frey book.

I found this interview with Capote online, where you can hear him speak in that famous high pitched voice of his. It is interesting to see that Capote's work was taken seriously in his time, and seen as literature, when now it is hard to imagine someone like him not being marginalized as 'gay literature.' Of course, these days, "gay writing," "women's writing," "black writing" etc. are categories that best serve the worst writers, for those writers can always claim that they are 'representing' a marginalized group, if not writing anything of worth. But for good and great writers, those tags just unfairly box in those writers--because those with actual talent and imaginations can wander beyond their own circumstance.

Blowup!

2008-08-02T13:45:00.009-04:00

I recently watched the Michelangelo Antonioni film Blowup with a friend, and though I'd seen it before, I hadn't made a post about it. Blowup is a bit different from some of the previous films by Antonioni. Like The Red Desert, it is in colour, but Monica Vitti is nowhere to be seen, and the film uses English actors and is set in Britain. While it is visually recognizable as an Antonioni film in many ways, such as the camera angles, it is still quite different from the tone of the earlier Alienation Trilogy films. But I think this is a good thing, it shows that Antonioni could break away from what one could expect of him, and that he was versatile.

It also has many aspects that could make it appeal to a younger and broader audience, but it doesn't really compromise artistically or intellectually. In a way, it is like L'avventura in that it departs from what initially looks like a conventional thriller, but Blowup is the stronger of the two in how it does such.

It certainly does not drag or bore in the way that L'avventura does, and it provokes the viewer to think more than the tale of sex-obsessed lovers does in that earlier film. I will say that I also re-watched L'avventura recently and there are many enjoyable 'Antonionian' moments in how it was filmed--yet, contrary to Auteurist claims, a 'stylistic signature,' or a recognizable directorial style, is really meaningless in terms of the overall quality of a particular film.

There is a section of Blowup where the protagonist is looking at some photos and keeps making enlargements to study some details, and Dan made a comment in his review of the film about this part: "He deduces all this in silence, alone, peering at the photos, in a bravura bit of Dick And Jane type existential proof of the power of images and the mind to construct tales from them. It’s as pure a pure cinema as ever filmed- just images. No words. No musical cues to say, ‘Aha!’"

While I've never taken the idea of 'pure cinema' too seriously [I don't believe that the introduction of sound made the cinema 'unpure'], this is a good description of the scene that makes one reflect on how many films would introduce sound cues to do the thinking for the viewer. In any event, it is an excellent film, even if it is probably not a personal favourite from the Antonioni films I've seen.

Cambridge University Press/White Teeth fiasco

2008-07-26T12:04:00.009-04:00

There is a new essay up on a book by Cambridge University Press that quoted a brief section from Dan's review of White Teeth, the debut novel by Zadie Smith.

I read the review of White Teeth when it originally went up, and it confirmed what I'd suspected of Smith after reading some pieces from her later books--she has no talent. Many of her reviews mysteriously pour on the praise, but if you just look at the excerpts in the review, you'll see lots of bad prose.

But the new essay discusses how the Cambridge University Press book contextualized the quote they used from Dan's review, and how it made it look like an emotional and critically irrelevant position when contrasted with the Anthony Quinn review from the NYT. When I read about the Quinn puff piece and it's "celebratory" attitude towards the "cultural hybridity" of Smith's book, I wasn't surprised that Cambridge would prefer such, because Academia often 'celebrates' anything with a multi-culturalist, feminist, etc. streak even if the writing isn't good. But it is not a fair or neutral way to position the two reviews, from an institution that stands for the exchange of ideas.

As of right now, there hasn't been a response from the actual editor of the book--I'm curious as to what she will say, if anything. Aside from the issue of how they represented Dan's piece, and didn't credit him as he asked, it is disappointing to see that universities in Britain also do not really care about real criticism, just like in North America. I was originally under the mistaken impression that they were going to republish the Zadie review, and thought that someone had recognized a good critical piece that would be good for students to read. I guess not.

Bookface

2008-07-24T07:00:00.000-04:00

Just a funny clip I saw that kind of shows how insane most social network sites are:

Tuesday Night Poem Club

2008-07-22T23:26:00.014-04:00

I accidentally came across a short love poem yesterday. It is a poem I used to see on the subway as part of some 'poetry in transit'-type program. It is the only one I actually remembered, for its central image. Looking at it again, it also has a good title and some music.

As Suggested By The Calculations Of Copernicus
By Jason Guriel

This first kiss on this cold street
could have jailed Galileo
for the heavenly point it proves
but tonight, merely moves
our two souls into steady revolution
around and about the warm fixed fact
of our brilliant lips.

Hither, come to me, whore

2008-07-20T11:23:00.016-04:00

Jessica sent me a link to the Marquis de Sade's 120 Days of Sodom, which was the inspiration for Pasolini's Salò. Just from skimming through it, the writing is hilariously bad...very dull and unstimulating prose.

When the girl was swimming in perspiration, she approached the libertine, raised an arm, and had him smell her armpit where the sweat was dripping from every hair. "Ah, that's it!" cried the tycoon, staring with furious approval at that sticky arm she held a centimeter from his nose, "what an odor! ravishing!"

Or, try this:

...after receiving a savage pounding his monstrous instrument rose like a rocket, it was seen to sway and bounce between the ladder's rungs, hovering like a pendulum and, soon after, impetuously launch its fuck into the middle of the room.

Oh, and then there's the line that gave my my blog post title:

"Hither, come to me, whore," said he, "after having bolted some fish one needs a little sauce, good white sauce. Come get a mouthful."

Of course, there are more detailed accounts of the sex, torture, and coprophila, but they are basically all described in the same dull prose style. An uptight person could be 'offended' by it, while a fetishist might 'like' some of what is described, but aside from those emotional responses the writing is bad, and what is described quickly becomes boring.

I've yet to see Salò, but it seems that the basic material has endured only because of the once 'taboo sexuality,' and the resulting 'moral outrage.' Now that pornography is just a commonplace thing in everyday existence, thanks to the internet, it is hard to imagine anyone finding this particularly shocking, or interesting. It is also strange to think of the philosophical depth that has been attributed to this writing in some academic writing I've seen. For example:

While Pierre Klossowski’s deconstruction of the Marquis de Sade’s works identified the concept of sadism and the practice of linguistics as complementary, later studies by Roland Barthes extracted from Klossowski’s analysis the theoretical polemic that the Sadean universe resists representation. Since sadism is essentially rooted in its discursive expression, in its process of telling, then the active and physical components of the sadistic process remain secondary to the language which dually prefigures and generates the sadistic act or crime. The consequence of such analyses which privilege Sadean discourse over any given elucidated referent, is the reader’s comprehension that, “Sadean crime exists only in proportion to the quality of language invested in it, in no way because it is dreamt or even narrated, but because only language can construct it” (Barthes 1976 33).

No mention of how bad that construction is. And yes, this kind of writing is typical of Cinema Studies, both in terms of style & the expounding on bad ideas and writing.

I'm On Fire

2008-07-19T11:00:00.005-04:00

I've got the 80s on the brain lately...this Springsteen song came on the other day and I hadn't heard it in forever, but I used to hear it & the album it was from a lot as a child, so it does evoke certain memories. Looking it up on the internet, I found a video for it that was directed by John Sayles. The only other Springsteen video that I know features a young Courtney Cox dancing badly.

Clip Bruce Springsteen - I'm on fire - kewego

Schneider Sonnets - Sonnet For My Pretty Skirt

2008-07-16T12:00:00.004-04:00

More Schneiders, more sonnets! Jessica showed me this poem a while ago and I asked if I could post it. As you will see, it looks quite different from the sonnet I posted of Dan's--it is the form that keeps on morphing.

Sonnet for my Pretty Skirt
*for Lynn Crosbie

Open poppy, so often you have been
inferred, spinning solid under trees, mist
entered among grasses, greeting the hanging hems
of knees she puts her hands upon.
Raise it
simply, carrying those quick legs, now owned
by lace, denim, whatever wants to name it-
skirt. Moving no more the extension of heads,
they piece apart this neck of worn-in shirts,
as they look to gardens new in their beds.

Lifting, 1950 Hollywood flirts
make more than names, as well as being kissed
by air, outliving past everything grown
in smiles, in smell, in attention sent and sent,
naming her- skirt. That owns all compliment.

Copyright © by Jessica Schneider

Aside from the dedication, the title also tips its hat to the Crosbie poem titled "Skirt, My Pretty Name," but otherwise this poem is very un-Crosbian, both in its tone and subject matter (not a serial killer to be found!) and in the skill with the form.

This one is kind of interesting in that the end rhymes are scattered throughout the poem--mist/kissed and owned/grown are not in close proximity. The dangling "Raise it" makes the poem seem like it has 3 stanzas of 5 lines, and it provides a match for the subsequent "it" and gives the near-rhyme with 'been' and 'upon.' 'Hems' the odd man out, in terms of matching end rhymes--but you can see it is musicked in its context, with the recurring 'h' and 'm' sounds.

A good use of repeated sounds throughout gives the poem its nice music--"open poppy, so often," hanging/hems/hands, inferred/entered, lifting/1950, and the word 'skirt' and its interaction with its like end-rhymes. There is also the nice image of the poppy "spinning solid under trees" (the thing that 'hooked' me upon first read) and the playful line about the extension of heads and the necks of worn-in shirts. Jessica knows how to delight with the tightness of her...sonnets!

Confessionalism & a poem by Lowell

2008-07-11T00:30:00.002-04:00

The issue of confessional writing has entered my thoughts lately, and why some of it works, and why much of it fails. Obviously, highly autobiographical writing is fairly typical these days and isn't as "taboo" as it would have been when poets like Robert Lowell and Anne Sexton published their famous works in the early 60s. However, I find that some dismiss all such writing because they find it distasteful, when there is a big difference between some of the best poems of Lowell or Sexton or Plath and a typical confessional piece from today.

The main thing is that all of those writers had talent and skill in poetry; they were not just spewing forth diary entries, but were manipulating specific experiences into art. When reading a good Sexton or Lowell poem, they will be musical, there will be mnemonic phrasing and images, and you can also observe skill with form. These are things that are missing from a typical Confessional poem today, where a person thinks that some personal trauma or a mere expression of emotion is interesting. These poems often fail for the same reasons that many a non-confessional poem fails, but there is such a focus on '-isms' these days that it tends to turn into finger-pointing from different 'camps'.

I don't actually have any books by Robert Lowell at this point, but one of his poems is in the Paglia anthology I have, so I thought I would post it and look at why it works:

Man and Wife

Tamed by Miltown, we lie on Mother's bed;
the rising sun in war paint dyes us red;
in broad daylight her gilded bed-posts shine,
abandoned, almost Dionysian.
At last the trees are green on Marlborough Street,
blossoms on our magnolia ignite
the morning with their murderous five days' white.
All night I've held your hand,
as if you had
a fourth time faced the kingdom of the mad--
its hackneyed speech, its homicidal eye--
and dragged me home alive. . . .Oh my Petite,
clearest of all God's creatures, still all air and nerve:
you were in our twenties, and I,
once hand on glass
and heart in mouth,
outdrank the Rahvs in the heat
of Greenwich Village, fainting at your feet--
too boiled and shy
and poker-faced to make a pass,
while the shrill verve
of your invective scorched the traditional South.

Now twelve years later, you turn your back.
Sleepless, you hold
your pillow to your hollows like a child;
your old-fashioned tirade--
loving, rapid, merciless--
breaks like the Atlantic Ocean on my head.

The poem obviously uses the "I" and provides specific references to places and people that give it the appearance that it is 'real'. Remove references to "Marlborough Street" and "The Rahvs" and you could still have the same overall message, but they are part of what gives the poem that Confessional aspect. In her passage on this poem, Camille Paglia does give the context of Marlborough Street and what that represents in New England and Lowell's personal history, as well as the Rahvs and Greenwich village and the literary culture of that moment.

What she doesn't write about is how the Confessional aspects of the poem really have nothing to do with what makes this poem work as a poem. You can see that it is well broken, and that it is musicked. The opening and closing images (the sun in war paint and the Atlantic Ocean breaking on his head) are mnemonic--and note that there is nothing inherently 'confessional' about either of them. So much of what is good in this poem has to do with the ability to craft a memorable phrase, like "the shrill verve/of your invective scorched the traditional South".

This 'Confessional' poem is actually full of artifice--and of course it is, it is a poem! The names and places and the "I" help mask that artifice, and make it seem like you are privy to an outpouring of personal 'truth'. These days, there is nothing shocking about such a seemingly personal and specific poem, but the poem still works for all of those other reasons I outlined. A lot of subsequent Confessional poetry lost this attention to craft, not to mention any real poetry, and became diary entries broken into lines. That's why they fail.

P.S. Compare the closing of the Lowell poem to that of an earlier Mandelstam poem: "And a black sea, thunderous orator/breaks on my pillow with a roar."

George Dickerson interview

2008-07-09T16:48:00.004-04:00

There is a new Cosmoetica interview with writer and actor George Dickerson, who has been in films such as Blue Velvet. The interview is full of interesting anecdotes from his life and career. I thought something he said about the worst job in his career was funny:

After Yale, I worked a few months in a nursery, learning about plants, worked my way around the U.S., even painted a barn and killed rattlesnakes on a ranch in western Oregon, then had the worst job I ever had, selling women’s shoes in a shoe store in Los Angeles (“Stroke my legs a little, will you, honey?”) I learned that most women go into shoe stores just to be touched.

Aside from reading about the details of his literary career and his work as an actor, there are also many well-written poems included, either in the text or linked to. There's one called "The Armenian Bear" that has some excellent phrasing & images that I enjoyed. The poems are much better than anything I've read in your typical lit magazine or anthology these days. You can see more on the Verse Magnifique page.

Schneider Sonnets - Approaching 70

2008-06-25T01:15:00.002-04:00

I'm starting something new today: I'm featuring a poem by another writer that is not plucked from another published source. The way I see it, it is ridiculous that reams of excellent poems sit in boxes or Lexar sticks, and I don't believe in waiting until some academic should stumble upon them. So I'm featuring a sonnet by Dan Schneider, and I will explain why I selected this one shortly--but first, the poem:

Approaching 70

Confetti of dawn
in the eyes of a teen boy
singularizing.

A house is empty.
The moongleam is earlier
than the waker thinks.

The window frosting
to the touch makes the pane deep
with hibernation.

The afternoon drifts
free of beginning and end
swiftly into mind.

This is the endpoint
where a stranger waves to you.

Copyright © by Dan Schneider

From what I've seen so far, Dan has written many sonnets, in many different mutations of the form. My initial interest in this poem was because of its images and lines that had an extra 'twist.' For example, I could see some writing poems with just "confetti of dawn," but without "in the eyes of a teenage boy/singularizing." Or someone might stop with "The afternoon drifts/free of beginning and end" without the "swiftly into mind." So each stanza has something to make you linger beyond just a pretty image. There is also the closing that has a sonnet 'turn' but is also compelling on its own, like the sections that precede it.

Another reason why I chose this poem is because of its structure. When I first glanced at it I thought it was just a tight free verse sonnet. Afterwards, I compared it to an inferior sonnet by another writer (perhaps I will post it later to compare), which was syllabic in organization. That other poem by the other writer had many bad breaks, among other issues. When I looked back to Dan's poem, I realized that "Approaching 70" was also syllabic in organization--and that it was a far better example of such. It has a strict 5-7-5 count for each of the three-lined stanzas, and then the 5-7 couplet. Despite the stricture, the line breaks are all excellent. I've seen a few examples of syllabic poems where the breaks aren't good, so I'm impressed that the poem satisfies the syllable count but manages to just look like a well-broken poem.

Throw in the musical effects and you have an excellent sonnet. It almost looks easy, until you remember examples of sonnets where the form is detectable, but no poem of consequence is.

Poetry Is A Destructive Force

2008-06-21T13:20:00.007-04:00

Just in case you thought I'd forgotten about poetry with all of these film posts, I haven't--Poetry would kick my ass if I did, as the title of this blog post suggests.

It's time for a little poem by Stevens, who I have been reading again lately. Stevens has the best titles, like "Le Monocle de Mon Oncle," "The Anatomy of Monotony," "How To Live. What To Do," "Debris of Life and Mind" etc. This is one of those poem titles that sticks in my brain and which is fun to say.

The poem has some subtle musical effects, and has the interesting turn from the 'animal' within to the man "in the body of a violent beast." Poetry as a destructive force is perhaps not how you would expect Stevens to characterize poetry, but then he does not really conform to some of the ideas about him that circulate, such as his work being strictly 'head poetry.'

Poetry Is A Destructive Force

That's what misery is,
Nothing to have at heart.
It is to have or nothing.

It is a thing to have,
A lion, an ox in his breast,
To feel it breathing there.

Corazon, stout dog,
Young ox, bow-legged bear,
He tastes its blood, not spit.

He is like a man
In the body of a violent beast.
Its muscles are his own...

The lion sleeps in the sun.
Its nose is on its paws.
It can kill a man.

Crimes and Misdemeanors/Match Point

2008-06-15T12:46:00.002-04:00

So I've been on a bit of a Woody Allen retrospective lately and thought I would do a post about these two films, Crimes and Misdemeanors and Match Point. Why these two? Because they have very similar storylines. Crimes came first, in the 80s, and then Match Point was made more recently, in 2005. Both have dramatic storylines involving extra-marital affairs and desperate means to hide them. Crimes, however, is kind of a drama/comedy fusion, with a separate storyline which stars Allen himself, while Match Point is a drama.

I think they are both very good, but I think Crimes is better because it encapsulated what was in Match Point plus more, and the fusion of the more serious storyline and the comedic one was a riskier move. When I mentioned to Jessica that I'd watched Match Point, she said that it was a bit of a rehash of Crimes, which is true, and since it wasn't rehashed in a better or more interesting way, that is part of what contributes to it being the lesser of the two films. Match Point is still good, plus it changes things up a bit by being set in London. Crimes and Misdemeanors seemed more concise, overall and aside from a few minor things, it has aged very well, always miraculous for a film made in the 80s.

As I watch more and more of Allen's films, it is amazing to me that his stature seems so low right now. Yes, he is acknowledged in a way that many directors aren't in a general sense, but all I seem to read about some of his better films is the 'Bergman influence.' I know influence can overpower in lesser artists, but I think they are still very much "Woody Allen" films even if he was influenced. If Bergman did Another Woman, I have the feeling it would be pretty 'cold.'

And his more recent films, which are still good, don't really get much attention despite being better than most of the big films that I've seen lately. Anyhow, for more on Woody, there is a Cinemension review of Match Point, and Crimes and Misdemeanors is listed as a great film on the Cinemension list.

new review, new list

2008-06-14T10:24:00.006-04:00

I have a new review up on Monsters and Critics, so please have a look.

There is also a new list of 'Great Films' up on Cinemension that I think you should also click on. I think it is a unique list compared to many other 'top film lists' out there, and I can say that having watched some of them following Dan's reviews, they are films worth your time and which reward repeat viewings.

If interested in comparing to an 'art film list' from a more pretentious site, hop on over here and have a scan of this list of top 400 films, 'from a spiritual perspective.' Holy Europe! You'll see some overlap with Dan's list but also some odd choices.

And no Woody Allen!

Jenny Sings Lenny

2008-06-07T21:36:00.012-04:00

Jessica seems to be influencing my posts lately. Her post on the movie Norma Rae reminded me of something I was going to post about. I've never seen Norma Rae, but I know there is a song on that soundtrack by Jennifer Warnes. Most people are familiar with a couple of 80s duets that she did, which I tend to forget about. I also tend to forget about some of the earlier hits of hers I've heard from before that.

The music I most associate with Jennifer Warnes is her album of Leonard Cohen songs, Famous Blue Raincoat, which I heard all the time as a kid. The album did well in Canada, helped out Lenny's career during a low point, and is apparently a bit of an audiophile favourite. It was digitally remastered recently and re-released, and I got a copy sometime in the winter. It may be the best thing she did in her career. She's not a singer like many today who are very ornate (Mariah Carey) or who sing loudly (Celine), but her warm vocals work when interpreting the kinds of songs Cohen wrote, and she's definitely a better singer than he is. At the time, their approach to the arrangements were different than what had been done by others who had performed his songs, like Judy Collins. I don't think all the songs they did on the record were equally strong, but some of the best ones she did, IMO, were "Famous Blue Raincoat," "Bird On A Wire," and "Joan of Arc."

Since this is the only song that has a video, it's the one I'm going to post. It is "First We Take Manhattan." Very 80s video. Cohen himself is in the video and guitar is courtesy of Stevie Ray Vaughan. As a child, I would listen to this song and daydream about being in a band. We wore lots of leather, and we were mean.

I'm attaching Cohen's version of the song just to compare. He has the artier video, and his voice actually kind of works with the lyric in this one, because his voice is so low. But you can still tell he is not a good singer. I've heard some go on about how they prefer his versions of his songs, though I can't imagine wanting to hear him sing anything he didn't write. When I was a kid, I asked who the awful man was that was ruining the Jennifer Warnes songs--though I came to like his recordings as I grew older.

Leonard Cohen - First we take Manhattan
Uploaded by beautifulcynic

Faces

2008-06-04T23:01:00.022-04:00

I saw Jessica's post yesterday about watching movies, and I hadn't been watching any lately (partially because of some late fines that I was avoiding), so she kind of inspired me to go and rent some that I was curious about.

Tonight I watched Faces by John Cassavetes. He is a director that I've known about for a long time, but I hadn't seen any of his films until now. It was clear as things progressed that I was watching a unique film with a distinctive style. It's kind of like how you will watch an Orson Welles film or an Antonioni film, and you will recognize an uncommon approach, even if just visually. A while back, I watched this movie called The Three Faces of Eve, and it was kind of ordinary in its visual style, in addition to having a dated screenplay. Faces, on the other hand, takes more risks and is more memorable as a result of the unusual angles or ways of composing the shot.

It's funny to think about how this film was shot independently on 16mm film, and yet is much more interesting to watch than something like that new Indiana Jones movie, which I saw recently. You don't really need lots of money and effects to make something interesting, just an imagination. It is also nice to see something shot on film, as there is a richness to the image that is missing in some of the more flat-looking digital stuff you see these days.

The film and its characters also 'unfold' in a way that is not a-b-c. Not that a-b-c is bad per se, it is just that such can be unnatural for a particular idea. So films like this confirm what I intuitively knew as a teenager, when I balked at the film script formula I was shown in an English class. What if my ideas don't come together in that way?

I've included some pictures of the prettier 'faces' that appeared in this film, which includes Gena Rowlands, who plays a character very different from Another Woman. She communicates much with her many faces in this film.

There is also an essay where you can read more about Faces if you'd like.

Starstruck!

2008-06-03T21:10:00.005-04:00

Gosh golly. I was out and about earlier and happened to stop by a large bookstore. I walked by this one woman and thought, "hmm, that looks like Heather Reisman. I think it is Heather Reisman." Heather is the head of the major book chain in Canada. Anyhow, I guess it isn't that unusual to see her there, considering that particular store I was in is the flagship store.

I was looking at reduced art books and was heading downstairs to look for more when I noticed that a signing was in progress. A few security guards were standing around, and there was a small line-up of people waiting to get books signed. I could barely see who the man was sitting at the table, signing away. I wonder who that is, I thought. So I looked at one of the signs nearby and it said...

Heather Reisman in conversation with JAMES FREY!

Unfortunately, I didn't stick around to pick up any autographed copies of his new one, so those of you who were hoping for some are out of luck. However--apparently other guests this week include other literary greats Augusten Burroughs and Rosie O'Donnell!

It just is not every day that you get to be in the presence of great writers. Do let me know if you want me to pick up an extra copy of autographed books by these treasures. Me, I'm off to pull the stars out of my sockets!!!

a bit of light verse

2008-06-01T12:50:00.007-04:00

Time for some levity. This is a new poem that I wrote within the last couple of weeks, inspired by a discussion that took place on my blog last year. It is also the first poem I've written based on a painting. Jessica and Dan were kind enough to provide critique, and Dan suggested some key cuts that made the poem better, so my thanks goes to both.

Bright Thoughts From a Rothko, Untitled

I only felt like half today;
I’m too lazy to cogitate
a name.

Every paint is just shade.
Every day a day

Off. Posh galleries pay, anyway,
to do what I shirk.
How their minds work

To explain, to conjure,
to endure:

All that weight which paints store
as colours cohere
their thoughts and their forms.

What is paint for?
I like it flat

As a man on his back.
I can’t help those who can’t see
why I’m great. On break or vacation,

I only stare back. Unrealizing
ideas, I ask:

Copyright © by Anthony Zanetti

new interviews

2008-05-29T20:42:00.003-04:00

A couple of new interviews have gone up, and it is kind of interesting to see how different they are.

A good interview with Daniel Wallace went up today. A bad interview with Edward Hoagland went up a little while ago.

Hoagland is snarky and overall makes the interview totally unproductive. I really didn't come out with any real lingering ideas from the man's work, and it didn't lodge his name in my brain for future book-searching. I think it's pretty clear when reading it, though, that the 'self-interviewing' accusations that have been bandied about are false; it is just obvious that the man isn't engaging with any of the questions, even those specifically about his own work. The Wallace one shows an author who might be less willing to delve as some of the past interviewees, but who still gives a good interview and isn't hostile--to either the interviewer, or the reader. It is the kind of interview that makes you curious about his books, or in comparing the film and the book versions of Big Fish, whereas the Hoagland interview just leaves a big blank in my mind.

Prince Caspian & Blades

2008-05-24T09:52:00.008-04:00

Dan has a new review up of the Prince Caspian movie. I found this film to be forgettable, and the review gets into why this is. Among other things, there is really no reason to care about the characters in this installment. I wouldn't mind seeing a movie version of The Magician's Nephew, which was one of my favourites from the Narnia books when I was a kid, but at this point I wonder if they'd fill it with endless battle scenes.

Also, I just found a youtube vid of this bad movie I saw as a teenager. Be sure to skip ahead to the slow motion death scene with the hair flip.

New Alanis Vid

2008-05-20T18:14:00.003-04:00

The official video for her new single, "Underneath," is out. This is a different one than the one I posted back in January.

Lighten up with Kate Light!

2008-05-17T09:58:00.012-04:00

Kate Light has entered my thoughts recently as I've been reading some poetry (and writing about it, in some pieces that I hope will mature soonish!). There's been some bad and mediocre formalism & sonnets, and when trying to think of what a good formalist might be like, I thought of the Kate poems that I've read on Cosmoetica.

While I don't really put too much stock in terms like 'formalist' (which has nothing to do with whether your poetry is any good or not), I guess she came to mind because from what I've seen, she writes well in form and yet has some nice lines and good ideas that seem to be lacking in many others who sell themselves as 'formalists.'

Here is a sonnet of hers that appeared, among others, in an essay about her on Cosmo.

San Francisco

Pierced tongue. Do-it-yourself lisp.
What is this? Penitence? Native wisdom?
Mutilation? or signal: I'll do anything.
Was it a dare? or a careful plan? Did it sting—
or ache—and does the food get caught—
and should such a person work in a restaurant?
Customers' stomachs can turn—or does desire
turn to her—to wish—to feel the fire
glide over the silver (or is it gold?) pin?
And you, my darling, with your end-
less speculation: Is he—is she—gay?
Does he or she want you—or me—either way?
Why do you need to know? I am here.
This is my body; eat. Unwrap. Disappear.

You can see that she uses the form well, and has some good music. The subject matter is relatively light, but she keeps the reader engaged with the thought trajectory of the speaker. All of the ideas cohere well with each other, and perhaps the only potential cliché would be the part about the 'stomach turning,' but the turn in the line with 'or does desire' makes it interesting. Then there is that memorable twist with the last line, which I always remember.

What I think many a 'formalist' has neglected to consider is that meeting the requirements of a form is meaningless if it has no good ideas, or music, or if there is nothing artistic about it. In fact, that is really the same problem with many an 'experimental' writer. They make the superficial gestures of experimentalism as if that makes up for dull ideas. If the form or the experiment wasn't used to good effect, then who cares? The only good thing that can come of it is that maybe a better writer will come along, see the potential in that form or experiment, and do something better with it.

This afternoon I'm supposed to join a friend who wants to see the Prince Caspian movie, so I'm looking forward to a nice light afternoon. Enjoy the weekend.

Aimee Mann

2008-05-09T07:54:00.004-04:00

My friend invited me to come with her to see Aimee after work today, at some in-store appearance that she's doing. She has a new album coming out, so maybe we'll get to hear some new songs. I pretty much first heard Aimee Mann back in high school when the movie Magnolia came out; her songs play a prominent part in that film. Aimee has a nasal singing voice, and many of her lyrics use well-known clichés--but her tunes are very catchy. My favourite song is probably "Calling It Quits," from her album Bachelor No. 2.

Catching Up: Embers

2008-05-07T07:45:00.004-04:00

Just a little post about this book that I finished yesterday. It was the M & C book club pick for October, but I didn't get to finish reading it back then. Having been off of prose for a while recently, I decided to hop back on and catch up on a few things.

This novel is an English translation of a book published by a Hungarian writer in the 1940s. It's a good translation, with many nice descriptions, but this book has a unique way of telling its story as well as an excellent central character. Much of the latter part of the book is communicated through the character speaking, which is a unique approach. Overall, it is a fresh take on a topic many have written about in predictable ways: infideltiy.

It is nice to read a prose work where the author is trying something different, but it isn't in that self-conscious & usually badly written way, as is typical with most self-identified 'experimental' writers. The ability craft a character well, or to evoke a specific time and place, or to impart a philosophical idea through well-written prose are all still important. Special thanks goes to the M & C editor who hooked me up with a copy.

High Windows

2008-05-03T10:20:00.003-04:00

A while back I was flipping through my Norton anthology and randomly ended up in the section for Philip Larkin's poems. I remembered that this one poem of his had influenced a sonnet by Dan Schneider, so I checked to see if it was there, and sure enough, it was. Since Larkin is a poet I know little about, and since the poem influenced one of my favourite contemporary sonnets, I thought I'd post it:

High Windows

When I see a couple of kids
And guess he's fucking her and she's
Taking pills or wearing a diaphragm,
I know this is paradise

Everyone old has dreamed of all their lives--
Bonds and gestures pushed to one side
Like an outdated combine harvester,
And everyone young going down the long slide

To happiness, endlessly. I wonder if
Anyone looked at me, forty years back,
And thought, That'll be the life;
No God any more, or sweating in the dark

About hell and that, or having to hide
What you think of the priest. He
And his lot will all go down the long slide
Like free bloody birds. And immediately

Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.

***

Were this my poem, I might change a couple of line breaks, and cut some things like the 'combine harvester' line, for musical purposes. But otherwise this poem is well done, and that last stanza is the best and most memorable for me.

If you'd like to read more about Larkin, he has a TOP, and his influence on Dan's poem is also mentioned in the Harold Bloom essay.

Woodstock

2008-04-26T09:02:00.018-04:00

I thought it would be fun to do a post on song lyrics vs. poetry. When I was younger, I didn't really make much of a distinction between the two, and thought many a singer-songwriter was saying something profound. Not so much these days--once you have become more involved with quality poetry, you can see that most song lyrics don't stand up on the page. This is for a number of reasons--obvious clichés are routinely used, the words need a vocal delivery to infuse them with greater power, and many songwriters don't work too hard on unique phrasing, or on the musical aspects of the words beyond end rhymes.

The song I'm posting is Joni Mitchell's "Woodstock," included as the final poem in Camille Paglia's Break, Blow, Burn. I won't be getting into Joni's work more generally, though that could be a future post. Here is the text:

Woodstock

I came upon a child of God
He was walking along the road
And I asked him, where are you going
And this he told me

I'm going down to Yasgur's farm
I'm going to join in a rock 'n' roll band
I'm going to camp out on the land
And try and get my soul free

We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

Then can I walk beside you
I have come here to lose the smog
And I feel to be a cog
In something turning

Well, maybe it is just the time of year
Or maybe it's the time of man
I don't know who I am
But life is for learning

We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

By the time we got to Woodstock
We were half a million strong
And everywhere there was song
And celebration

And I dreamed I saw the bombers
Riding shotgun in the sky
And they were turning into butterflies
Above our nation

We are stardust
million-year-old carbon
We are golden
caught in the devil's bargain
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

This is actually Paglia's transcription of the lyrics; if you look at earlier album liner notes/vinyl sleeves, they look slightly different. Paglia shapes the song this way because she considers it part of the 'ballad tradition,' and has given it this appearance to reinforce the connection between this song and all the previous poems in her collection. But the appearance of a poem on the page, from its stanza breaks to its line breaks, should not be arbitrary. That Paglia has to order the words herself into a poetic form (including those italicized parts which were not included in previous transcriptions) demonstrates that the lyrics were not composed to stand alone and have their full impact on the page.

The song concerns someone who joins a man on his way to the Woodstock festival. Paglia mentions the 'radical gender drama' of a woman in the 1960's taking to the road, and characterizes the meeting as "a reunion of Adam and Eve searching for Eden." But you need Mitchell's voice in order for it to be such, for on the page, the lyrics are gender neutral, which is why Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young were able to record their own version.

The verses sketch out the narrative but don't really have a great, memorable phrase or image--the bombs turning into butterflies seems a very 60s hippie kind of image that hasn't aged well. The chorus, on the page, is rather banal, and isn't really interesting enough to repeat in a poem. In terms of repetitions that work, compare with Blake's The Tyger, where the repeated section is much more interesting in phrasing, or to Jessica's Moth Lost poem, where the repeated parts of the villanelle intrigue as they thread throughout the poem. These examples are far more concentrated than the Mitchell text. When bound to music, in either the Mitchell or Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young versions, the lyrics work because the music is pretty catchy.

Compared to some of today's published crap, this is indeed a superior poem. Put side by side with a Ron Silliman poem where he repeats the same banal line (or word) a zillion times, this does have greater depth and skill. And I do think it is a good song lyric. But it is not comparable to other poems in the book, which includes poems like Ozymandias and Anecdote of the Jar. Those ones display greater poetic skills with music (via words) and images, and are more sophisticated in how they communicate their ideas. They also display a mastery of form, in different ways.

So that's why I don't think this is one of the best poems of the 20th century; it's not about 'snobbery.' Paglia curiously calls this song "possibly the most popular and influential poem composed in English since Sylvia Plath's Daddy." This I don't get, either in terms of poetry or song, for such specific influence should be detectable, and while a hit, was this song really that massive in its impact?

Bonus: Read Camille Paglia's interview with Joni Mitchell.

Versions of Violence

2008-04-24T07:55:00.002-04:00

A new review has appeared on Cosmoetica. It is of this notorious film by Pier Paolo Pasolini, called Salò. I've never seen it, and at this point, I won't be rushing to see it. I knew that it had a reputation for being 'controversial,' and that the Criterion DVD of it is out of print and is sought after by collectors & is heavily bootlegged. So after reading the review, it is kind of amusing to contemplate paying hundreds of dollars for the dvd, when the film is apparently really...shitty.

At one point, Salò is described as being "merely a very, very pale imitation of Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange, the film that Pasolini wanted this to be, but without having to exert the artistic effort a master like Kubrick did." Both that film by Kubrick, and the book by Anthony Burgess, had physical and sexual violence within, but had much more going on beyond just that, and were not just endless sensationalism. And of course, there was the actual artistic skill in both. In fact, when I think back to the Burgess book, I think more about the character and what Burgess did with the language; the violence isn't what makes it linger in your brain.

Even reading a review of the book Knockemstiff yesterday, the same basic thing seemed to prevail. It seems to be all about 'shocking' us with a sea of drug addicts, rape, sodomy etc. without any good writing, depth, or characterization. This is something that afflicts a lot of contemporary writing, even if not in as extreme a manner as with Pasolini.

Anyway, after reading about all that bad art, I noticed that on alanis.com they have a clip up from her new album. Conveniently for this post, it is called "Versions of Violence." A nice little salve after reading about Salò.

You must change your life.

2008-04-20T08:51:00.000-04:00

Rilke's poetry made an appearance in Another Woman; both a filmic image of "The Panther," and a quote of the last couple of lines from "Archaic Torso of Apollo." The latter is a poem that is probably my favourite that I've read of Rilke's, so far. I return to it often, and both poems were appropriate in the context of Marion's life in the film.

There is another translation I've read by Stephen Mitchell, but I prefer this one by Edward Snow, for its word choices and music.

Archaic Torso of Apollo

We never knew his head and all the light
that ripened in his fabled eyes. But
his torso still glows like a gas lamp dimmed
in which his gaze, lit long ago,

holds fast and shines. Otherwise the surge
of the breast could not blind you, nor a smile
run through the slight twist of the loins
toward that center where procreation thrived.

Otherwise this stone would stand deformed and curt
under the shoulders' transparent plunge
and not glisten just like wild beasts' fur

and not burst forth from all its contours
like a star: for there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.

Translated by Edward Snow

Another Woman

2008-04-19T09:13:00.002-04:00

Well, I did get a copy of Another Woman to watch, and sure enough, Dan was correct--it was even better than Interiors. What a script. Why had I not heard of this movie before Cosmoetica?!?

I was impressed by Gena Rowland's performance. I don't think I've seen her acting before, though I knew of her having read a bit about Cassavetes. This is the kind of film that completely destroys the idea that acting isn't key in film.

I thought it was a very concise and rich film. Also, I just thought of something from a review Dan wrote about the movie Brokeback Mountain. Here is the passage:

And, ethically, the film does a lot of dancing about- not on the ethics of homosexuality, but on adultery and lying. For example, if this film were about two men who cheated on their wives with other women, would the film have portrayed their encounters so favorably? I doubt it. But, adultery is okey-dokey if gay, and letting your ‘true’ self be revealed. So, it’s ok to be a liar and user if queer, but if you lie and use women in your straight adultery it’s not ok? Of course, exploring real emotion, say, in the way a John Cassavetes did, well, that’s the true taboo in dumbed down Hollywood.

I do think that this film explores those emotions behind the adultery of its characters in a far more sophisticated and mature way than in the Brokeback movie.

I have to say that these two films have subverted my expectations. I'm used to Woody Allen movies where he's in them and where he improbably attracts assorted babes. Not that those are bad films, but these are just completely different. Though I've seen a more serious film like Hannah and Her Sisters, I did not know that he made films like this. He is a great writer.

Now if only all those contemporary scribblers who write about academics could do it as well as Woody did in this film...

p.s. Another poem by Jessica titled after a Woody Allen film, "Another Woman"

p.p.s. Holy fuck, I just read this dvd review that pans the film as well as Interiors. He thinks it's dull (which it isn't, though one would think that a story about a philosophy prof would be) and considers it a 'failure.' Is he nuts?

Interiors

2008-04-15T07:19:00.007-04:00

Last night I watched a Woody Allen movie called Interiors, for the first time. I was impressed with it although I always think of comedy when I think of Woody Allen films, and this was not a comedy. But it was a good script, and I bet many actresses wish that there were more scripts like this for them.

It is hard for me to even think of recent dramas that are as 'mature' [doesn't a recent hit 'drama' like Garden State seem like fluff in comparison?]. And though I am not that sympathetic on my blog to those who lack talent and pump the world full of bad art, I thought the film did a good job of depicting these people who have strong feelings but no talent with which to manipulate those feelings into something artistic.

I think Allen is also a good example of an artist who has been judged because of who he is as a person, or what he's done in his personal life, over his films. I remember hearing lots of jokes about him when I was younger, and I encountered his reputation as a person before ever seeing one of his films (this was in the early 90s, post-Mia Farrow). He is also a director whose work never appeared in any of my film courses, though I did rent movies like Manhattan and Hannah and Her Sisters on my own as a student. I'm not sure if this is because of his personal reputation, a bias towards the European masters of his time, or simply because there is not much recognition in film studies right now for the script.

There is this Cosmoetica essay that is not a review, but is a more general essay on Allen's career that includes a bit about Interiors. There's also a poem by Jessica with the same title, which has some nice music.

REM Aneurysm

2008-04-12T20:27:00.005-04:00

Been awhile since I last posted, so I thought I would post this very short poem I wrote some time ago and revised slightly in the last few months. I'm working on some new stuff, but I'm not ready to share anything at this time. Also been busy with some other things going on.

Anyway, I guess this one is the shortest I've yet shared.

REM Aneurysm

As a roar of petals cores into sight,
the cherry bouquet chokes the arciform street;
a red sea hardens to an amethyst plate.

Copyright © by Anthony Zanetti

Love Song

2008-04-07T18:35:00.003-04:00

Since I have singers on my mind today, I thought I'd post this video of this girl I came across randomly on the internet. I guess this song is a radio hit, though I don't really listen to the radio so I hadn't heard of her before. I did listen to the studio version of this, but I kind of prefer this version, because there's no background stuff distracting from the voice.

She kind of reminds me of Fiona Apple.

And if you find that too noisy, you can always just listen to this.

Adrienne Rich: An Appreciation

2008-04-01T16:50:00.005-04:00

I thought I'd do a post about Adrienne Rich, a Neglected Poet if there ever was one. For years, Sylvia and Anne have gassed & garaged their way past this leftist treasure. Here's a sampling of one of her gems:

Aunt Jennifer's Tigers

Aunt Jennifer's tigers prance across a screen,
Bright topaz denizens of a world of green.
They do not fear the men beneath the tree;
They pace in sleek chivalric certainty.

Aunt Jennifer's fingers fluttering through her wool
Find even the ivory needle hard to pull.
The massive weight of Uncle's wedding band
Sits heavily upon Aunt Jennifer's hand.

When Aunt is dead, her terrified hands will lie
Still ringed with ordeals she was mastered by.
The tigers in the panel that she made
Will go on prancing, proud and unafraid.

Sylvia who, right? This poem is much better than that Narcissi poem I posted once. Old Aunt Jennifer is just much preferable to Old Percy. In fact, she's preferable to Daddy too; he just won't do. Still, I don't think this is a perfect poem--I don't think it is politicized enough. Given that poetry is all about promoting social change, I feel that this poem does not have enough of an impact. Were this my own poem, I'd probably put a Che Guevara poster somewhere in the background, and perhaps comment on the Iraq war. And perhaps a touch of lesbianism for Aunt Jennifer, to make that wedding band all the more oppressive.

Still, I'd give this poem a 98, on par with Stevens' "Yellow Afternoon." For it gives us all the power to "go on prancing, proud and unafraid."

the dumbest possible action does happen

2008-03-21T20:57:00.004-04:00

I came across this episode of Unsolved Mysteries on Youtube recently. Sometimes in reviews, Dan will mention "the dumbest possible action," where the sorority girl in a horror film goes down to the basement to investigate a strange noise when a killer is on the loose, or something to that effect. Well anyway, you can see a reenactment at the beginning of this clip where the couple actually do something like that after observing some very suspicious behaviour. Were they out of their minds?!?!

Unsolved Mysteries used to scare the hell out of me when I was a kid. I think it was that music.

Robinson Jeffers

2008-03-16T17:27:00.005-04:00

Time for a poem post. Today I'm posting a poem by a poet I've never written about, and who I've only sampled via anthologies and of course the Neglected Poets page. I've read that Robinson Jeffers' work spans several volumes, so who knows what I'll do when it comes to seeking out a book of his. Though he is in those anthologies from my student days, I don't recall ever reading him back then, and he doesn't seem to have that 'name recognition' that many of his American peers do (hence his Neglected status). I admire what I've read so far by him, though, and poems like this one are truly ageless. This poem shows his skill with form & line breaks, and in terms of subject matter it avoids triteness while still being a moving poem, and goes beyond what a lesser mind might do with similar subject matter.

I took this poem from an essay on Jeffers & The Metric Fallacy, another one of those touchstone essays for me when I really started studying poetry in earnest. In the poetry class I took years ago, I thought that the whole exercise where we went up to the board and marked the 'stresses' in lines of poetry was pointless and boring, since you could never really be 'wrong' (since each person can potentially 'hear' something differently--and of course they would, if stress levels go beyond merely stressed/unstressed). A totally irrelevant exercise, and it does nothing to really help one's understanding of poetry or how to make one's writing musical. So I felt vindicated after reading that essay.

Anyway, onto the poem:

The House Dog's Grave
(Haig, an English bulldog)

I’ve changed my ways a little; I cannot now
Run with you in the evenings along the shore,
Except in a kind of dream; and you, if you dream a moment,
You see me there.

So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you’d soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking-pan.

I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do
On the warm stone,
Nor at the foot of your bed; no, all the nights through
I lie alone.

But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet
Outside your window where firelight so often plays,
And where you sit to read- and I fear often grieving for me-
Every night your lamplight lies on my place.

You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard
To think of you ever dying.
A little dog would get tired, living so long.
I hope that when you are lying

Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.
No, dears, that’s too much hope: you are not so well cared for
As I have been.

And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I knew.
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided….
But to me you were true.

You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.

more Cosmoetica interviews

2008-03-14T00:07:00.004-04:00

A new interview with Charlie LeDuff, author of US Guys, has appeared on Cosmoetica. I made myself a nice cup of chicken noodle soup and read this interview the other night.

I also neglected to mention the previous one, which was a really great one with Desmond Morris. This just shows what can happen when the interviewee really engages with the questions (unlike some previous, and perhaps, future). Some fascinating comments, including the discussion of neoteny as it applies to adult creativity & homosexuality.

Also, noticed this article that says "we need expert evaluative critics." You don't say. I wonder where one could find such these days?

Winter Wunderkind

2008-03-09T14:01:00.003-04:00

It's been very wintery here for the last few days. It was snowing really hard, so that when I looked out my window I couldn't even see the buildings in the distance--just white. It's not snowing right now, though snow is covering all of the building-tops.

I couldn't resist posting this song by Alanis, as it is very 'wintery'. It is from the Chronicles of Narnia, and someone edited some footage from the film to go with the song.

memoir & political silliness

2008-03-08T11:27:00.002-05:00

Lots of chatter about all those fake memoirs out there. When you compare the stories from those to the James Frey book, or the J.T. LeRoy hoax (which wasn't memoir, but which did rely on the 'truth' of the life story of the author), the stories all seem incredibly over the top. It seems that there always has to be a sensational story to lure readers in to these books, even when the stories go beyond being believable.

Even if those memoirs were instead written as fiction, it wouldn't really change the writing itself. And I question if some of these writers were writing well & finding ways to make melodrama work.

Since less and less is 'shocking' as time goes on, in North America, the publishers seem to be picking books with trauma piled on trauma, even when it becomes ridiculous. They probably didn't bother to research the 'truth' behind these books because they didn't really care about that--they just saw the sensationalism & melodrama and knew that such could bring in the $ at the present moment.

In other news, you may remember my recent post on Björk's terrible song, "Declare Independence." Well, she performed it in China recently and ended by saying "Tibet! Tibet!" and now the Chinese government is displeased. I think it's all ridiculous--both Björk's lame attempt at politics through song & the overblown reaction to what wasn't even a sophisticated political statement.

Very Nice, Very Nice

2008-03-02T15:11:00.007-05:00

A comment left by Jessica reminded me of the short film by Arthur Lipsett, from which I stole the name for this blog. I had looked for it online sometime last year to no avail, but now it is up on the National Film Board website, so if you are curious about it, you can have a look by clicking here.

I've read that this influenced Kubrick's trailer for Dr. Strangelove, which you can see here:

There is also a film on the NFB site called 21-87, which apparently influenced George Lucas in his film THX 1138, a Lucas film that Dan Schneider has reviewed favourably, which is rare if you catch some of Dan's comments about Lucas in other reviews.

'new' poem

2008-03-01T12:14:00.013-05:00

Well, not really, but it is one that I wrote last year that I wanted to share. Jessica & Dan provided a critique back then, and made some suggestions that strengthened the poem, so thanks goes to them.

Richard In The Orchard

Author: he has slipped
a manipulation of the mind; mine.

Past rows that glow, he walks
where abstracts contract and harden
into facts—their magic
more exacting than this sifting shape; the fantastic
now practical.

Chernobyl harvests: inedible, they stir
regard—carpenter or god,
engineer of clear parts,
their maker appears.

Words on interiors cannot be
seen or shared;
images are louder. In these trees—
here, is power.

And you, looking
back at my branch, view
Impressionist reds, ripening
notions: disnebulous rubella,
their vermilion skins value

yielding their paints
in waves of rosacea.

Copyright © by Anthony Zanetti

Juno/Karen Carpenter

2008-02-25T01:03:00.001-05:00

I didn't watch the Oscars tonight. I don't have a TV, but in any event I find them long and boring. On Saturday night I went with my friend to see the movie Juno, which everyone seems to love, and which won for Best Original Screenplay. I looked on Rotten Tomatoes and praise for it seems to be universal. I don't get it. I'm not going to write a 'review' per se, but basically it is full of that typical wannabe-clever dialogue that doesn't really sound like actual teenagers but instead what older hipster types wish they sounded like back then. Then there is the awful soundtrack, full of terrible indie songs with bad vocals and immature lyrics.

I guess a good thing was how the film dealt with who we originally thought would be the 'lame yuppie wife,' and what turned out to be the immature dolt of a husband she had. The whole delayed adolescence thing is an epidemic now, and there is nothing cool about people in their 30s acting like a teenage wannabe rockstar. So that was a good point that the film made about male immaturity, but otherwise it was nothing too special. It's kind of like that Little Miss Sunshine movie that charmed everyone last year, even though it was kind of a forgettable film. [Someone linked me this. If you're curious about the brilliance behind the screenplay, click.]

But back to the soundtrack. At one point they have the guy from Sonic Youth singing "Superstar" by The Carpenters. While this 'fits' with the style of the other songs on the soundtrack, and with the 'music geekery' of a couple of the characters--I don't know why you'd really want to listen to that song with his vocals. The Sonic Youth version comes from one of those 90s tribute albums that were abundant back then. Anyway, after all that bad singing and dialogue, I looked up some Karen Carpenter on Youtube and her voice put me in better spirits.

Strangers On A Train

2008-02-23T11:50:00.016-05:00

A little while ago, a friend and I had a 'movie night' where we watched a couple of old films, and one of them was Alfred Hitchcock's Strangers On A Train. Afterwards, I looked to see if there was a review of it on Cinemension, and there is indeed a review of it.

I thought I'd post about it because there are some good points about melodrama, and how that relates to this particular film and others in Hitchcock's oeuvre. Also, I've been generally interested in melodrama in art, how it can wreck an artwork, but also how artists can actually utilize it in successful ways. Here is an excerpt from the opening paragraph of Dan's essay:

Melodrama always depends upon the propulsion of the plot by the characters within doing the dumbest possible things to get to the next scene. Melodrama thrives on the lowest common denominator. This, of course, does not lessen the enjoyability of the melodrama- be it Hollywood film, soap opera, pro wrestling, etc., but it does remove the work sufficiently from the realistic so that it shows its artifice too much, and therefore never fully involves an engaged viewer.

This is a good summary of what distinguishes melodramatic writing from great writing. It acknowledges that melodrama is often fun. Yet when looking at Hitchcock films and trying to discern what were his best films, you have to look beyond whether it was just 'fun' or not. I'd say that films like Rear Window are a lot of fun to watch, but I don't know how one could argue that it isn't a far-fetched story, particularly if you go over all Dan's points in the review. Notice with the Rear Window review that Dan acknowledges it as a technically great film, but that overall it isn't because of the melodramatic script. That is a key distinction that really wasn't made when I was taking courses on film, because they were only focusing on the 'cinema-specific elements'. But such only allows you to assess the film for its technical aspects (if even that). Interestingly, I do remember films like Rear Window and Vertigo being screened while I was at school, and not Strangers on a Train or some of the films that Dan has reviewed and argues are better.

So in Strangers, what might help to mitigate the melodrama? As the review points out, the film also has much dark comedy (think of how some Plath poems also have a dark humour to them). Then there is some of the depth in the screenplay--how it deals with homosexuality, and the issue of "why guiltless people act guilty." One other thing that Dan points out is the acting, arguing that good acting in the film helps elevate the quality of the film. He says, "The depth in most Hitchcock films comes from the actors and their subtleties, not the written words. In this sense Hitchcock’s reputation as the ultimate puppetmaster is well earned."

As I've mentioned before, the impact of acting was not really looked at in 'formal' studies of film. In fact, I remember one professor saying that good acting was almost the result of the editing, supposedly because film is not an unbroken representation of an actor's performance, but is an assemblage. This of course ignores the fact that good or bad acting is outside of editing, and imbues each little 'piece' that is edited together to form a whole. As someone who worked with actors of varying ability, I've seen how editing cannot create a good performance (unfortunately). Recall that in his review of Antonioni's The Passenger, Dan argues that one thing that brings that film down is Maria Schneider's acting. So yes, acting is important element in film that can affect quality.

Anyhow, I think it's a good essay to read because I find that with Hitchcock, he's sort of revered and much-loved, but few really get into the specifics of what makes his films great--or not. He's just routinely described as "the master of suspense." I remember discussing the whole issue of "suspense and surprise" in school with regards to his film plots, but as you can see, what determines the success of his films (or anyone's) just goes beyond that.

And as for melodrama, in a discussion a while ago Jessica said that Shakespeare is an example of someone who successfully utilized it in his plays. So somewhere down the line I'd like to visit those again (it's been a while).

Gondry/Coppola/Jonze videos

2008-02-09T16:35:00.000-05:00

Seems everyone is getting sick lately. I was sick for the past few days, and finally I seem to be getting better. So what do you do when you are sick? Watch videos, of course.

This song popped into my head because I was remembering a friend of mine who once played it on repeat when she had to sew a popped-off button back onto her shirt. Michel Gondry directed this one. I think his only full movie that I've seen is Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, but I didn't think that one was that great, even though everyone else seemed to. (Interesting to note with that one how Charlie Kaufman kind of dwarfed Gondry as the 'author' of that film, which is unusual as the screenwriter is so often invisible).

Sophia Coppola also directed a White Stripes video, with pole dancing courtesy of Kate Moss. Sophia has directed some films too, which I thought were...just ok. You can see it's not that interesting compared to the previous one. I like the track though, which was written by Burt Bacharach. I never actually saw this video before youtube, which is odd considering the first two singles from that album were played heavily at the time.

That one got me thinking about this video from 10 years ago that Sophia was actually in, directed by her ex-husband Spike Jonze. Spike Jonze has also directed features, like Adaptation...um, another Charlie Kaufman-penned movie that I didn't think was that great. This is a Chemical Brothers track, from the days when people thought 'electronica' would be the 'next big thing', even though that never happened.

Isn't it fun how all of that connected? I'm not sure what the moral of this post is. Stick to music videos (or maybe gymnastics)?

Supersexyswinging Poems

2008-02-04T23:22:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling a bit stellectric at the moment, so I thought I'd post this poem by Mina Loy so that you can all indulge in my voltage.

Lunar Baedeker

A silver Lucifer
serves
cocaine in cornucopia

To some somnambulists
of adolescent thighs
draped
in satirical draperies

Peris in livery
prepare
Lethe
for posthumous parvenues

Delirious Avenues
lit
with the chandelier souls
of infusoria
from Pharoah's tombstones

lead
to mercurial doomsdays
Odious oasis
in furrowed phosphorous---

the eye-white sky-light
white-light district
of lunar lusts

---Stellectric signs
"Wing shows on Starway"
"Zodiac carrousel"

Cyclones
of ecstatic dust
and ashes whirl
crusaders
from hallucinatory citadels
of shattered glass
into evacuate craters

A flock of dreams
browse on Necropolis

From the shores
of oval oceans
in the oxidized Orient

Onyx-eyed Odalisques
and ornithologists
observe
the flight
of Eros obsolete

And "Immortality"
mildews...
in the museums of the moon

"Nocturnal cyclops"
"Crystal concubine"
-------
Pocked with personification
the fossil virgin of the skies
waxes and wanes----

***

Wasn't that fun? I grabbed that from the Neglected Poets page. Lots of pleasurable sounds in that one, as well as obviously unusual fusions of word and image that make you want to reread the poem. I'd not heard of this poet before, though apparently everyone who was everyone in Modernist Literature knew her (T.S., Gert & the gang).

One more before bed:

Moreover, The Moon---

Face of the skies
preside
over our wonder.

Flourescent
truant of heaven
draw us under.

Silver, circular corpse
your decease
infects us with unendurable ease,

touching nerve-terminals
to thermal icicles

Coercive as coma, frail as bloom
innuendoes of your inverse dawn
suffuse the self;
our every corpuscle become an elf.

New York Movie

2008-01-31T21:18:00.000-05:00

It's kind of fun how you can stumble across things while on the internet. Usually I stumble upon a bad poem or whatever, so I thought I'd post about something good I came across randomly. It is the above image by Edward Hopper, who Jessica posted about a while ago. I was immediately struck by the mood of this image. There's a lot to look at in the image, like the differences in lighting, the use of colour, body language, the empty seats in the foreground etc. Just further evidence to me that the power of a painting still comes through even after being jpegged. Clickity click to view it larger.

The singer Suzanne Vega, who is from New York, has a scene in her "Caramel" video that tips the hat to this painting at one point. While Vega doesn't have a powerful voice, I think there's something sexy about it. She also made one of my favourite albums, which maybe I'll post about sometime.

More Betty Smith

2008-01-22T16:04:00.000-05:00

A couple of treats for those Betty Smith fans out there. There is a new biography and Jessica has a review of it available here.

There is also an interview with the biographer that was just posted.

Interesting to read that she didn't get along well with other women, even though she wrote women characters so well. Also, the review mentions some of her other writing, including her 3 other novels and her plays. It is quite interesting to think that she had developed her writing for so long before Tree actually came out. It doesn't seem like most people work on their writing in that way, and need to publish when they are young in order to get the press attention.

Atonement etc.

2008-01-20T13:51:00.000-05:00

Saw the movie Atonement on friday. The person I saw it with thought it was one of the best she'd seen in a while. I...didn't. I thought it was predictable in many ways--lots of conventional romance stuff to appeal to the ladies. It looks like many critics thought it was good, but I did notice one review on Rotten Tomatoes from the Toronto Star that was negative. I thought that maybe Jessica had written about the book, but she actually wrote about a different Ian McEwen book, mentioning Atonement at the beginning of her review.

The film concerns a writer who tries to 'atone' for her personal actions through her writing, which may seem like a compelling premise, but it isn't really once you recognize that the artist's work and their lives are on separate tracks. A great artwork is great for reasons outside of 'morality'. A great artwork and the morally reprehensible/socially unacceptable behaviour of the artist are separate things, judged in different ways--one cannot affect the other. A related discussion on the personal behaviour of poets vs. their work came up recently on the e-list. So anyway, even if Briony had made a great fiction out of her true story, it wouldn't make her a 'better person'.

As for what I'm reading these days, it's kind of a short story month right now for me. I've been reading some stories by Dan, I've got some Chekhov to check out, and a while back I read Jessica's story Fat Nasty Bitch online.

And finally, in that email discussion I saw someone refer to T.S. Eliot as tse-tse, and I think it's hilarious.