Funny story. A while back, I posted that my review of Yusef Komunyakaa's Warhorses was accepted at an online magazine. Well, the issue is currently being put together, but my essay was one of the first up, so I was able to view it a couple days ago...but before I get to the interesting part, a bit of backstory.
I was told that since I was submitting a book review, I didn't have to title my essay-- it could just be the title of the book, and underneath "Reviewed by Brett Strickland." Or something along those lines. Since I had no snappy title, that's what I left it as. What I was not told, was that if I didn't pick a title the editor would slap one on for me.
So imagine my surprise when I clicked on the link to my review, and was greeted with an essay titled "Severed Genitals." Whoa. For a few moments, I was in a state of mild shock.
Now, I have to admit (sorry mom) that phrase is in the essay. But as a title, I'm not sure what it's meant to convey...luckily the editor was kind enough to let me change the title to "Love in a Time of War" (the title of section I in the book), which is a bit more fitting for the contents of the review.
I've included a link below for anyone interested in reading it. It's only about 600 words. The goofy picture of me at the bottom was taken by Angela before I left for "my first day of school" last summer.
Komunyakaa Review
I actually sent the review to Yusef Komunyakaa (he won the Pulitzer for poetry in '94, and is currently teaching at NYU), and he responded this morning, saying thanks, and that he was in Poland. Sort of fun. It's nice to be part of a subculture where the celebrities can still be tracked down for correspondance.
cheers.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Race until Aug. 24th
The fall semester begins August 24th, which will involve another full class-load, and teaching two sections of Freshman Composition. The reading period for most university literary magazines will begin (some already have), and I'll start sending out my triple-folded poems and query letters. I'll also begin a mentoring process for teaching Creative Writing in the Spring, and sending out applications for PhD programs in creative writing, and Angela and I will begin the now familiar process of finding out where we're going to be living one year from now.
I'm looking forward to fall, but it's also forcing me to evaluate both what I've done with my summer, and what I still need to do with the last two odd weeks.
My major summer projects (1. Compiling the list of poems for my reading list, and 2. Finishing my screenplay, "Hoopsnake") are now finished. All I need to do is put Hoopsnake through one more revision next week, and then it's out the door to a multitude of agents. The week after that, I'm pulling out the old syllabus, dusting it off, and cleaning it up for a new batch of freshman. One major change this fall is that I'm teaching a "Laptop Section", which means every student is requred to have a laptop for class, and there's more emphasis on incorporating technology in the teaching. Which is a lot of fun. To me, incorportaing technology into the classroom translates as, "play funny youtube clips."
Finally, in the last two weeks, I am racing to watch as many films as possible. Last night I knocked down Humbolt County, which started out slow, but ended up better than I thought-- Chris Messina plays a really interesting character. (I didn't know who Chris Messina was a month ago, but when I saw him in Away We Go, I was blown away, and looked him up. He plays Burt's friend in the movie, who's wife keeps having miscarriage's. His monologue at the club, about whether "you don't know whether to name it or bury it," is incredible writing.)
On the docket for the next few days:
1. Two Lovers (It was just added to Netflix instant watch!)
2. Papillon
3. The Soloist
4. Burn After Reading (I've lost my desire to see this, but feel obligated since Brad Pitt is in it.)
5. Notes on a Scandal
6. Lonesome Dove
That should get me through a few days. I also started Ordinary People, but after 40 minutes couldn't stand it. The acting was good, and typically I would enjoy the plot, but I felt like the movie was trying too hard, and it became painful. The young boy reading Jude the Obscure, and the class discussion on powerlessness...the patient-psychiatrist relationship that now borders on cliche....Anyone seen it and disagree?
I'm looking forward to fall, but it's also forcing me to evaluate both what I've done with my summer, and what I still need to do with the last two odd weeks.
My major summer projects (1. Compiling the list of poems for my reading list, and 2. Finishing my screenplay, "Hoopsnake") are now finished. All I need to do is put Hoopsnake through one more revision next week, and then it's out the door to a multitude of agents. The week after that, I'm pulling out the old syllabus, dusting it off, and cleaning it up for a new batch of freshman. One major change this fall is that I'm teaching a "Laptop Section", which means every student is requred to have a laptop for class, and there's more emphasis on incorporating technology in the teaching. Which is a lot of fun. To me, incorportaing technology into the classroom translates as, "play funny youtube clips."
Finally, in the last two weeks, I am racing to watch as many films as possible. Last night I knocked down Humbolt County, which started out slow, but ended up better than I thought-- Chris Messina plays a really interesting character. (I didn't know who Chris Messina was a month ago, but when I saw him in Away We Go, I was blown away, and looked him up. He plays Burt's friend in the movie, who's wife keeps having miscarriage's. His monologue at the club, about whether "you don't know whether to name it or bury it," is incredible writing.)
On the docket for the next few days:
1. Two Lovers (It was just added to Netflix instant watch!)
2. Papillon
3. The Soloist
4. Burn After Reading (I've lost my desire to see this, but feel obligated since Brad Pitt is in it.)
5. Notes on a Scandal
6. Lonesome Dove
That should get me through a few days. I also started Ordinary People, but after 40 minutes couldn't stand it. The acting was good, and typically I would enjoy the plot, but I felt like the movie was trying too hard, and it became painful. The young boy reading Jude the Obscure, and the class discussion on powerlessness...the patient-psychiatrist relationship that now borders on cliche....Anyone seen it and disagree?
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Summer Photo-Essay / Cat Photo Essay
This post will consist of two separate, equally exciting photo essays.
1. Summer
Summer has been fairly busy here in Oxford. Angela and I spend the week days working and hanging out, and our weekends traveling—two weeks ago it was Michigan, and this past weekend, Bowling Green for Larisa and Cameron’s wedding. (My sister/brother-law.) Here is a photo, with Angela looking beautiful, and myself looking unpleasantly sweaty. A mixture of heat and champagne.
Today, Angela worked the morning shift at Butterfield Farms (A greenhouse/farmer’s market), then spent the afternoon grading the students enrolled in her online class. I revised some poems for send-outs, then drove up to the English office to take care of last minute business for my summer reading list. Afterward, while Angela graded from home, I drove to a friend’s and worked on a screenplay with him.
We’re grateful for Angela’s job, because besides the pay, we get lots of free food. Fruits, vegetables, different varieties of homemade bread, blocks of cheese…she usually comes home with something fun.
It’s missing a couple handles, but besides that, it’s beautiful, and in great condition, so we’re going to repaint it and buy new handles. We're both thinking something fun, but I'm leaning towards a color like mint green, and Angela is suggesting a grey and blue, southern style striping. Any suggestions?
We’ve been having friends over for occasional cookouts, and visiting their homes (apartments) as well. Here is a cookout behind our townhouse, and a poker game at a friend's house.
The second is Willard, my own cat. Below is slightly shocking final photograph of Willard capturing a baby rabbit. He carried it around in his mouth for a while, before carrying it to his den (my parents garage) to eat it, where I took some candid photos. Unfortunately, my sister Taylor took the rabbit away from Willard and freed it across the street, where it hopped away, unharmed except for some chewed fur.
1. Summer
Summer has been fairly busy here in Oxford. Angela and I spend the week days working and hanging out, and our weekends traveling—two weeks ago it was Michigan, and this past weekend, Bowling Green for Larisa and Cameron’s wedding. (My sister/brother-law.) Here is a photo, with Angela looking beautiful, and myself looking unpleasantly sweaty. A mixture of heat and champagne.
Today, Angela worked the morning shift at Butterfield Farms (A greenhouse/farmer’s market), then spent the afternoon grading the students enrolled in her online class. I revised some poems for send-outs, then drove up to the English office to take care of last minute business for my summer reading list. Afterward, while Angela graded from home, I drove to a friend’s and worked on a screenplay with him.
We’re grateful for Angela’s job, because besides the pay, we get lots of free food. Fruits, vegetables, different varieties of homemade bread, blocks of cheese…she usually comes home with something fun.
All free, except for the jars we bought to make the jam in.
Life in Candle Wood (Candle Hood) Terrace is good, besides children continuing to assault one another in a Lord of the Flies-esque manner. (I’ll post on that later.) A few weeks ago we found this dresser set beside the dumpster outside our front door, which we promptly carried it off.
Life in Candle Wood (Candle Hood) Terrace is good, besides children continuing to assault one another in a Lord of the Flies-esque manner. (I’ll post on that later.) A few weeks ago we found this dresser set beside the dumpster outside our front door, which we promptly carried it off.
It’s missing a couple handles, but besides that, it’s beautiful, and in great condition, so we’re going to repaint it and buy new handles. We're both thinking something fun, but I'm leaning towards a color like mint green, and Angela is suggesting a grey and blue, southern style striping. Any suggestions?
We’ve been having friends over for occasional cookouts, and visiting their homes (apartments) as well. Here is a cookout behind our townhouse, and a poker game at a friend's house.
I can't remember, but it looks as though Angela is miming a camera-taking motion in a story she's telling.
I don't know why my hand is in the middle of the table like that.
2. Cats
In the tradition of my past essay on the lifestyles and habits of feral felines in Marion, Indiana, I will post pictures of two interesting cats I have encountered this summer.
This first one is named, I believe, Rocky, and he is enormously fat, with thick, dirty, bear-like fur. He was outside a friend’s house, and turned out to be friendly when I approached him. The pictures really don't do justice.
2. Cats
In the tradition of my past essay on the lifestyles and habits of feral felines in Marion, Indiana, I will post pictures of two interesting cats I have encountered this summer.
This first one is named, I believe, Rocky, and he is enormously fat, with thick, dirty, bear-like fur. He was outside a friend’s house, and turned out to be friendly when I approached him. The pictures really don't do justice.
The second is Willard, my own cat. Below is slightly shocking final photograph of Willard capturing a baby rabbit. He carried it around in his mouth for a while, before carrying it to his den (my parents garage) to eat it, where I took some candid photos. Unfortunately, my sister Taylor took the rabbit away from Willard and freed it across the street, where it hopped away, unharmed except for some chewed fur.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Zeitoun
I can't keep track of Eggers. This is his new nonfiction book, being released in a few weeks, and it looks like it was written very much in the manner of What is the What. Which is a great book.
Here's the synopsis from McSweeneys:
When Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans, Abdulrahman Zeitoun, a prosperous Syrian-American and father of four, chose to stay through the storm to protect his house and contracting business. In the days after, he traveled the flooded streets in a secondhand canoe, passing on supplies and helping those he could. But, on September 6, 2005, Zeitoun abruptly disappeared. Eggers’s riveting nonfiction book, three years in the making, explores Zeitoun’s roots in Syria, his marriage to Kathy—an American who converted to Islam—and their children, and the surreal atmosphere (in New Orleans and the United States generally) in which what happened to Abdulrahman Zeitoun became possible. Like What Is the What, Zeitoun was written in close collaboration with its subjects and involved vast research—in this case, in the U.S., Spain, and Syria.
Also, if anyone is interested, here is a link to an interview with Dave Eggers and his wife Vendela Vida about writing their new movie, Away We Go. He seems funny and sincere.
And, finally-- here is a link to the McSweeney's page where you can order the book, if you so desire.
I know these posts bore some people, sorry. Ang. needs to post a life update soon, but if she does not, I will handle it.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Book Review
My book review of Yusef Komunyakaa's newest collection of poems, Warhorses, was accepted by Jacket magazine, and will appear this coming October.
Jacket is a fairly reputable online magazine that specializes in book reviews, and my review will be in the same issue as a new Fanny Howe poem, which is fun.
Life update post containing insight into our weekend, and Angela's job at the Greenhouse/ Farmer's Market, coming soon.
Jacket is a fairly reputable online magazine that specializes in book reviews, and my review will be in the same issue as a new Fanny Howe poem, which is fun.
Life update post containing insight into our weekend, and Angela's job at the Greenhouse/ Farmer's Market, coming soon.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Trailer for The Road
The trailer for the film adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's most recent novel, The Road, was released on itunes today, which you can watch by clicking here. I really enjoyed the novel, and was looking forward to the movie (I thought casting Viggo Mortenson as the father seemed like a great choice--just what I imagined), even though I was curious how watchable it would be, since the novel is pretty surreal at times (for instance, neither the father nor the boy were ever named) and is punctuated by images of grisly (and, I have to say, fascinating) violence.
After watching the trailer, some of my enthusiasm has diminished. It looks like the role of the mother (being played by Charlize Theron) has been expanded way beyond what it was in the book (and if you read the novel you know why her role was limited), probably because the film-makers wanted to give the movie more of a narrative, which I think will come at the expense of a vital aspect of the novel.
It still looks like the movie is following the book fairly closely (most of the scenes in the trailer were immediately recognizable)-- my worry, specifically, is that what made the book so fantastic was the sort of hazy, dream-like atmosphere. I think that the quest to make The Road approachable to a wider audience might end up turning it into another Children of Men--especially with the overdone news clips, which to be honest, I used to love, and now think is becoming extremely annoying (and evidence of laziness on the part of film-makers).
I really liked Children of Men. (In general, I'm a sucker for post-apocalyptic lit. I even liked I Am Legend. ) But The Road should be something different.
So. Still interested in the movie, but now I'm in doubt that the film-making will be able to do justice to (what I thought) was a unique take on a genre where new ground is difficult to break.
I'm curious what others think.
After watching the trailer, some of my enthusiasm has diminished. It looks like the role of the mother (being played by Charlize Theron) has been expanded way beyond what it was in the book (and if you read the novel you know why her role was limited), probably because the film-makers wanted to give the movie more of a narrative, which I think will come at the expense of a vital aspect of the novel.
It still looks like the movie is following the book fairly closely (most of the scenes in the trailer were immediately recognizable)-- my worry, specifically, is that what made the book so fantastic was the sort of hazy, dream-like atmosphere. I think that the quest to make The Road approachable to a wider audience might end up turning it into another Children of Men--especially with the overdone news clips, which to be honest, I used to love, and now think is becoming extremely annoying (and evidence of laziness on the part of film-makers).
I really liked Children of Men. (In general, I'm a sucker for post-apocalyptic lit. I even liked I Am Legend. ) But The Road should be something different.
So. Still interested in the movie, but now I'm in doubt that the film-making will be able to do justice to (what I thought) was a unique take on a genre where new ground is difficult to break.
I'm curious what others think.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Cincinnati Public Library Book Sale
Our neighbor needed a ride down to the Cincinnati airport on Friday morning, and since Angela had the morning off, we drove her down together. I wanted to go to Cincinnati on Friday anyway, because it was the final day of the Cincinnati Public Library book sale.
We left our neighbor at the departures area by 6:30 a.m. The book sale didn’t open until 9, so Angela and I ate breakfast and killed time at the Walnut St. First Watch, which was really great, and also within walking distance of the library. At 8:40, we left First Watch, and believe it or not, there was a already a line of 40-50 people waiting to get into the library. A “friend of the library” (volunteer) was walking up and down the line hawking large, red, plastic bags, because Friday was “grab bag day.” One bag cost ten dollars, and then whatever a person could fit into the bag was free. I wasn’t sure if I was going to find enough books worth buying to equal ten dollars, but I decided to take the risk. It was worth it.
Before I list the books that Angela and I were able to fit into our bag (we probably could have fit a few more), I need to try and communicate the unadulterated greed that my fellow book-buyers exhibited. (I wanted to write "bibliophiles," instead of book-buyers, but unfortuntately, I have a few theories that--if true--would result in several members of the crowd being anti-bibliophiles.Theories explained further on.) A bell began tolling at 9, and the line tightened so that the drifters who weren’t exactly “in-line” couldn’t squeeze in. I found myself boxing out a lost looking elderly woman who was meandering towards a spot in front of me. Once through the door, people began trotting past tables of books, to what I quickly surmised was some sort of prized destination. I didn’t know where we were going, but I followed the crowd.
One group forked off at the antique books, where—without looking at titles—people began shoveling books into their bags. I stopped at the table and glanced over the titles, wasting valuable time to see what was being scooped up, then returned to the deluge, which I was disturbed to find had flooded around the poetry section. I didn’t even think there would have been a poetry section, but the sale was much larger than I had expected. The table was completely surrounded, and people were pulling books into their bags faster than I could read titles, and then all of a sudden the crowd was moving on again.
They were like locusts devouring fields.
Although it seemed that the poetry section had been devastated, I performed a more thorough search and discovered that there wasn’t enough room on the table for everything, so more books were being stored in boxes under the table. Comeplete set of the Harvard English Poetry Collection? Yahtzee.
I made some good finds, and then decided to backtrack to the biography/memoir section, which is among my favorite type of reading, and seemed mostly overlooked. As I made my way over, one greedy bastard rushed by me (keep in mind all this has happened in a space of 5 minutes or so) with two bags completely filled with books on CD. He had a volunteer mark the bags for him, then bought two more empties and rushed away.
On one level, it’s nice to see people get excited (greedy, even) for books, especially poetry. Yet, it was also a little confusing. Are there enough people in downtown Cincinnati to get excited about deals on poetry that they would wake up early and bum rush the library? I don’t think so. Perplexing, but I have some theories. Some of the people looked like bums, and I developed a suspicion that they were only using the books for barrel fires, or to cook their Mulligan Stew. My other theory is that the books were going to be sold online for higher prices. Greedy-for-books-on-CD was a prime candidate for this hypothesis.
If you’re interested, below is a comprehensive list of what Ang. and I filled our big red bag with. I’m still reading Words in Air: The Complete Correspondence Between Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell, so I’ve only had time to start the book by Sarah Vowell—but the part I read was very funny.
I’ll list the price the book was marked at (If it had been purchased on a day besides grab bag day) after the title and author, so you can see what a great deal it was.
Books Bought
1. A Tidewater Morning- William Styron, 2
2. The Brooklyn Follies- Paul Auster, 2
3. The Bradbury Chronicles (The Life of Ray Bradbury) - Sam Weller, 5
4. My Wars Are Laid Away in Books (The Life of Emily Dickinson) - Alfred Habegger, 4
5. John Irving (Biography) - Carol C. Harter, James R. Thompson, 2
6. The Works of John Donne - John Donne, 2
7. From Chaucer to Gray: English Poetry in Three Volumes, Volume I (Harvard Classics), 3
8. From Collins to Fitzgerald: English Poetry Volume II, 3
9. From Tennyson to Whitman: English Poetry Volume III, 3
10. Hand to Mouth: A Chronicle of Early Failure- Paul Auster (Memoir), 3
11. Firefall: Poems by Mona Van Duyn- Mona Van Duyn, 1
12. Robert Frost: A One Volume Edition of the Authorized Biography- Lawrence Thompson, 3
13. Two Part Invention: The Story of a Marriage- Madeleine L’Engle, 3
14. An American Childhood-Annie Dillard, (First Edition Hardcover, Near-perfect condition), 2
15. July, July- Tim O’Brien, 2
16. Take the Cannoli: Stories from the New World- Sarah Vowell, 3
17. The World as a Lie: The Biography of James Dickey- Henry Hart, 3
18. Robert Lowell: A Biography- Ian Hamilton, 3
Children’s
1. Miss Bindergarten Celebrated the 100th Day of Kindergarten- Slate and Wolf, 4
2. The Enormous Egg- Oliver Butterworth, 1
3. Numbers- Alan Snow, 1
4. One Little Lamb- Elaine Greenstein, 1
5. Grandparents- Roser Capdevila, 1
6. Where’s Pup?- Dayle Ann Dodds, 2
7. This Little Chick- John Lawrence, 4
Misc.
1.Fondue- Marlisa Szwillus, 1
2.The Education of a Poker Player- Herbert O. Yardley, 2
Total Number of Books: 27
Price: 66 Dollars
Sum Paid: 10 bucks
cheers
We left our neighbor at the departures area by 6:30 a.m. The book sale didn’t open until 9, so Angela and I ate breakfast and killed time at the Walnut St. First Watch, which was really great, and also within walking distance of the library. At 8:40, we left First Watch, and believe it or not, there was a already a line of 40-50 people waiting to get into the library. A “friend of the library” (volunteer) was walking up and down the line hawking large, red, plastic bags, because Friday was “grab bag day.” One bag cost ten dollars, and then whatever a person could fit into the bag was free. I wasn’t sure if I was going to find enough books worth buying to equal ten dollars, but I decided to take the risk. It was worth it.
Before I list the books that Angela and I were able to fit into our bag (we probably could have fit a few more), I need to try and communicate the unadulterated greed that my fellow book-buyers exhibited. (I wanted to write "bibliophiles," instead of book-buyers, but unfortuntately, I have a few theories that--if true--would result in several members of the crowd being anti-bibliophiles.Theories explained further on.) A bell began tolling at 9, and the line tightened so that the drifters who weren’t exactly “in-line” couldn’t squeeze in. I found myself boxing out a lost looking elderly woman who was meandering towards a spot in front of me. Once through the door, people began trotting past tables of books, to what I quickly surmised was some sort of prized destination. I didn’t know where we were going, but I followed the crowd.
One group forked off at the antique books, where—without looking at titles—people began shoveling books into their bags. I stopped at the table and glanced over the titles, wasting valuable time to see what was being scooped up, then returned to the deluge, which I was disturbed to find had flooded around the poetry section. I didn’t even think there would have been a poetry section, but the sale was much larger than I had expected. The table was completely surrounded, and people were pulling books into their bags faster than I could read titles, and then all of a sudden the crowd was moving on again.
They were like locusts devouring fields.
Although it seemed that the poetry section had been devastated, I performed a more thorough search and discovered that there wasn’t enough room on the table for everything, so more books were being stored in boxes under the table. Comeplete set of the Harvard English Poetry Collection? Yahtzee.
I made some good finds, and then decided to backtrack to the biography/memoir section, which is among my favorite type of reading, and seemed mostly overlooked. As I made my way over, one greedy bastard rushed by me (keep in mind all this has happened in a space of 5 minutes or so) with two bags completely filled with books on CD. He had a volunteer mark the bags for him, then bought two more empties and rushed away.
On one level, it’s nice to see people get excited (greedy, even) for books, especially poetry. Yet, it was also a little confusing. Are there enough people in downtown Cincinnati to get excited about deals on poetry that they would wake up early and bum rush the library? I don’t think so. Perplexing, but I have some theories. Some of the people looked like bums, and I developed a suspicion that they were only using the books for barrel fires, or to cook their Mulligan Stew. My other theory is that the books were going to be sold online for higher prices. Greedy-for-books-on-CD was a prime candidate for this hypothesis.
If you’re interested, below is a comprehensive list of what Ang. and I filled our big red bag with. I’m still reading Words in Air: The Complete Correspondence Between Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell, so I’ve only had time to start the book by Sarah Vowell—but the part I read was very funny.
I’ll list the price the book was marked at (If it had been purchased on a day besides grab bag day) after the title and author, so you can see what a great deal it was.
Books Bought
1. A Tidewater Morning- William Styron, 2
2. The Brooklyn Follies- Paul Auster, 2
3. The Bradbury Chronicles (The Life of Ray Bradbury) - Sam Weller, 5
4. My Wars Are Laid Away in Books (The Life of Emily Dickinson) - Alfred Habegger, 4
5. John Irving (Biography) - Carol C. Harter, James R. Thompson, 2
6. The Works of John Donne - John Donne, 2
7. From Chaucer to Gray: English Poetry in Three Volumes, Volume I (Harvard Classics), 3
8. From Collins to Fitzgerald: English Poetry Volume II, 3
9. From Tennyson to Whitman: English Poetry Volume III, 3
10. Hand to Mouth: A Chronicle of Early Failure- Paul Auster (Memoir), 3
11. Firefall: Poems by Mona Van Duyn- Mona Van Duyn, 1
12. Robert Frost: A One Volume Edition of the Authorized Biography- Lawrence Thompson, 3
13. Two Part Invention: The Story of a Marriage- Madeleine L’Engle, 3
14. An American Childhood-Annie Dillard, (First Edition Hardcover, Near-perfect condition), 2
15. July, July- Tim O’Brien, 2
16. Take the Cannoli: Stories from the New World- Sarah Vowell, 3
17. The World as a Lie: The Biography of James Dickey- Henry Hart, 3
18. Robert Lowell: A Biography- Ian Hamilton, 3
Children’s
1. Miss Bindergarten Celebrated the 100th Day of Kindergarten- Slate and Wolf, 4
2. The Enormous Egg- Oliver Butterworth, 1
3. Numbers- Alan Snow, 1
4. One Little Lamb- Elaine Greenstein, 1
5. Grandparents- Roser Capdevila, 1
6. Where’s Pup?- Dayle Ann Dodds, 2
7. This Little Chick- John Lawrence, 4
Misc.
1.Fondue- Marlisa Szwillus, 1
2.The Education of a Poker Player- Herbert O. Yardley, 2
Total Number of Books: 27
Price: 66 Dollars
Sum Paid: 10 bucks
cheers
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
Whoops, & Poem
Okay:
First of all, I accidentally deleted my blog roll last night, so it might take me some time to replace that, since I have no idea what most people's blog address is. I may email you for it, but again--all deletions were unintentional. Your writings are valued.
Second, I now have two blogs written, but have been too lazy to upload pictures onto my computer. So I'll get something up tonight. (I may archive the two already written and write something new today about Angela and I's experience in Cincinnati this morning.)
I feel so guilty that I'm going to do something I normally don't, and post a poem I wrote in the last couple of weeks. It's lighter than most of my more recent work, and has not been revised yet.
Summer in a College Town
The first warm day since October & the first
girls are displayed on lawns by ten, able to rise
early only for this, skin offered
to a fickle star, faces & stomachs
pale as birch bark before peeling, others
strangely dark, evidence of settling
for a false messiah. Eyes shuttered
behind dark glasses as others gaze
into the blinding white of open books
pretending at study, & all
lounge like cats under glass or
serphents along black asphalt—
& the young men who gather
on porches, or pause
their already slow walks
down sidewalks to stare, hungry
as animals wakening from hibernation—
daughters & sons spring
from these passing bodies.
That's the end of the poem. Summertime and Sexuality! Revisions will probably be based around trying to bring out more of a spacey theme (as in, outer space), and last night I thought about changing the title to "Heavenly Bodies," which is potentially the worst title in the history of poetry. (Although Mary Oliver has a million poems titled "Percy", "Percy #6", etc...Percy is the name of her dog.)
Oh more piece of news: Away We Go was released in select cities today, you should go see it if it's playing near you.
First of all, I accidentally deleted my blog roll last night, so it might take me some time to replace that, since I have no idea what most people's blog address is. I may email you for it, but again--all deletions were unintentional. Your writings are valued.
Second, I now have two blogs written, but have been too lazy to upload pictures onto my computer. So I'll get something up tonight. (I may archive the two already written and write something new today about Angela and I's experience in Cincinnati this morning.)
I feel so guilty that I'm going to do something I normally don't, and post a poem I wrote in the last couple of weeks. It's lighter than most of my more recent work, and has not been revised yet.
Summer in a College Town
The first warm day since October & the first
girls are displayed on lawns by ten, able to rise
early only for this, skin offered
to a fickle star, faces & stomachs
pale as birch bark before peeling, others
strangely dark, evidence of settling
for a false messiah. Eyes shuttered
behind dark glasses as others gaze
into the blinding white of open books
pretending at study, & all
lounge like cats under glass or
serphents along black asphalt—
& the young men who gather
on porches, or pause
their already slow walks
down sidewalks to stare, hungry
as animals wakening from hibernation—
daughters & sons spring
from these passing bodies.
That's the end of the poem. Summertime and Sexuality! Revisions will probably be based around trying to bring out more of a spacey theme (as in, outer space), and last night I thought about changing the title to "Heavenly Bodies," which is potentially the worst title in the history of poetry. (Although Mary Oliver has a million poems titled "Percy", "Percy #6", etc...Percy is the name of her dog.)
Oh more piece of news: Away We Go was released in select cities today, you should go see it if it's playing near you.
Friday, May 1, 2009
So, Shoot Me...I thought Synecdoche, New York was better than The Wrestler
I think the average movie-goer would prefer The Wrestler, if for no other reason than because it has an intelligible narrative. Of course, there are other reasons to appreciate this movie as well—Mickey Rourke does a fantastic job as Randy “The Ram”, and I like Marisa Tomei in every role I’ve ever seen her in, even if the movie is terrible—also, the story itself, and the details involved with being a professional wrestler were interesting. Did you know pro-wrestlers carried razor blades in their bandages (or, as I read in a recent interview with Hulk Hogan—in their mouth) to cut themselves with during matches? Or that the wrestlers themselves worked out much of the choreography of matches? I didn’t. Also, director Darren Aronofsky has some really cool camera shots, particularly when the camera follows Randy around the deli/freezer, and during matches. Here’s what I didn’t like: the heavy-handed, in-my-face Christ metaphor. Gran Torino pulled it off; The Wrestler did not.
I guess there aren’t really any rules for making a character into a Christ metaphor, but for me, there needs to be more involved than allusions made between said character and Christ, feeling bad for the character, and then the character dying. In Gran Torino, Walt died for someone else. Through his death, the Vietnamese family found freedom. Randy’s death was more of an abandonment than anything—he had a daughter, and a woman that was arguably starting to love him. She too was getting older, and her body could no longer keep up with her profession—should she have committed suicide? (Which is basically what Randy did.)
Randy lacked the courage to live up to the expectations either relationship demanded. So he “Ram Jams” his buddy off a corner-post, knowing full well that his heart is going to go kaploosh. Was Randy’s a sad existance? Yes. And the movie was a striking portrait of a man who could do only one thing well, and had nothing left when that part of his life was gone—Springsteen’s proverbial one-trick pony. The Wrestler is a good film—but not great.
Synecdoche, New York, however, is unlike any film in recent memory. Written and directed by Charlie Kaufman (the first time he’s done both), it works on emotions in a strange, and fascinating way. (For example, I think of the weird and sudden sadness I experienced at the end of Wes Anderson’s The Life Aquatic, when Bill Murray sees the shark, and everyone in the sub puts a hand on his shoulder and he says something about fifth grade being his favorite year. Why did that make me want to cry? You could argue that it’s because the best year of someone’s life was over at 11, but I suspect there’s more going on…) S, NY is endlessly reflexive, to the point of being unbearable, but just when you think you can’t take any more, the bizarre (but strangely resonant, I think, especially toward the end) surrealism is taken up another level. (I was writing in the second-person there, but rather than fix it, I’ll just add this—I loved it. But it’s somewhat avant-garde (read: artsy), and I think many people would lose patience with it very quickly.)
It’s about a play-write (Philip Seymour Hoffman) who receives a MacArthur “Genius” Fellowship, and proceeds to start creating a play that closely resembles real life as possible. He builds a replica of NY in a theater, hires actors to play himself and people he knows...maybe you can see where this is headed, but some of that is reflected in the movie’s title. “Synecdoche” is a poetic term for a part symbolizing a whole, for instance: farmhand. The hand represents the person. Anyway. Philip Seymour Hoffman is brilliant the entire time, there’s some really incredible writing, and if you have any patience for somewhat incomprehensible films, stick it out until the end, the emotional payoff is (I think) worth it.
Cheers.
I guess there aren’t really any rules for making a character into a Christ metaphor, but for me, there needs to be more involved than allusions made between said character and Christ, feeling bad for the character, and then the character dying. In Gran Torino, Walt died for someone else. Through his death, the Vietnamese family found freedom. Randy’s death was more of an abandonment than anything—he had a daughter, and a woman that was arguably starting to love him. She too was getting older, and her body could no longer keep up with her profession—should she have committed suicide? (Which is basically what Randy did.)
Randy lacked the courage to live up to the expectations either relationship demanded. So he “Ram Jams” his buddy off a corner-post, knowing full well that his heart is going to go kaploosh. Was Randy’s a sad existance? Yes. And the movie was a striking portrait of a man who could do only one thing well, and had nothing left when that part of his life was gone—Springsteen’s proverbial one-trick pony. The Wrestler is a good film—but not great.
Synecdoche, New York, however, is unlike any film in recent memory. Written and directed by Charlie Kaufman (the first time he’s done both), it works on emotions in a strange, and fascinating way. (For example, I think of the weird and sudden sadness I experienced at the end of Wes Anderson’s The Life Aquatic, when Bill Murray sees the shark, and everyone in the sub puts a hand on his shoulder and he says something about fifth grade being his favorite year. Why did that make me want to cry? You could argue that it’s because the best year of someone’s life was over at 11, but I suspect there’s more going on…) S, NY is endlessly reflexive, to the point of being unbearable, but just when you think you can’t take any more, the bizarre (but strangely resonant, I think, especially toward the end) surrealism is taken up another level. (I was writing in the second-person there, but rather than fix it, I’ll just add this—I loved it. But it’s somewhat avant-garde (read: artsy), and I think many people would lose patience with it very quickly.)
It’s about a play-write (Philip Seymour Hoffman) who receives a MacArthur “Genius” Fellowship, and proceeds to start creating a play that closely resembles real life as possible. He builds a replica of NY in a theater, hires actors to play himself and people he knows...maybe you can see where this is headed, but some of that is reflected in the movie’s title. “Synecdoche” is a poetic term for a part symbolizing a whole, for instance: farmhand. The hand represents the person. Anyway. Philip Seymour Hoffman is brilliant the entire time, there’s some really incredible writing, and if you have any patience for somewhat incomprehensible films, stick it out until the end, the emotional payoff is (I think) worth it.
Cheers.
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