Sunday, 16 December 2012

Factors Which Influence One's Response to a Film Seen at the Cinema





Errol Flynn as Robin Hood in The Adventures of Robin Hood



"Norman Bishop* (angrily): I advise you to curb that wagging tongue of yours !

Robin (cheerfully): It's a habit I've never formed, Your Grace."


- from The Adventures of Robin Hood , ch.5 - http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0029843/



I have been to the cinema a few times recently, & also in a cluster at the end of last year, & each time leaving I have thought not only "What do I think about that ?" but also "Why do I think what I think about that ?" This thought is reinforced when I can see a discrepancy between what I thought of a given film & what my friends & contacts thought of it. These reflections have led me to attempt to specify the factors that influence one's reaction to a film seen at the cinema. I say one's  not my  because I propose these aren't simply mine. Also, at the cinema because it is different seeing a film there from seeing it on dvd. Firstly, the picture is much, much larger. Second, one is seeing it with an audience of strangers. Thirdly, one has far less choice over when to see it. It's as if one was only allowed to read the book one is reading during specified appointment times at the local library, & the book is always in extremely large print.



Factors Which Influence One's Response to a Film Seen at the Cinema


1. How good the film is.


2. One's mood on that day.

It is certainly possible that the best film in the world will pass one by if one is the wrong way out that day.


3. One's underlying mood during that period of one's life

that period of one's life  being precisely that period which is demarcated by the duration of that underlying mood.


4. The state of development of one's taste

how experienced a film-goer one is, the level of sophistication of one's culture generally - which will affect how highly you rate what you have seen.

For instance when I saw a re-run of Pierrot le fou (http://uk.imdb.com/title/tt0059592/  ) at the cinema in or about 2001 it blew my mind so comprehensively that I came out thinking - in so far as I was capable of thinking at that moment - "Why do they bother making films after that ?!!? especially thrillers ?" The point being that unknowingly I had gone in having the perfect amount & kind of cinema experience to respond absolutely to that film at that time.


5. One's private/internal preoccupations

Whether something in the film chimes with these.



Still from 'Pierrot le Fou'


*this character is in fact called The Bishop of the Black Canons

Sunday, 9 December 2012

The Song of the Shades of the Dead Booksellers

Scene: A second-hand bookshop. The sides & back of the stage are lined with full bookcases, except for the stage L entrance which is the door to the street. There is a staircase in the back wall L. In the centre of the stage is a table, behind which the owner, CHRIS, is sitting, pricing books. The table is surrounded R, & in front if so desired, by piles of books. Browsing at the bookcases R is MATT.

The shop door opens, we hear the ring of its bell & a MAN walks in.


CHRIS: Hello.

MAN: Hello.

CHRIS: Are you looking for anything in particular ?

MAN: Ah . . . uh . . . I am actually. . . have you got any books on local history ?

CHRIS (pointing to the last bookcase on the wall L): Yes, we do, they're just there for you.

MAN: Thank you.


The MAN goes to browse the bookcase indicated. He pulls out various books one after another & examines them. Meanwhile CHRIS carries on pricing his books, MATT carries on browsing. Eventually the MAN assembles quite a large pile of books & takes them to the desk to pay, standing L of the desk.


MAN (handing the pile over ): There we are . . . is there a discount for bulk ?


CHRIS & MATT both burst out in helpless & prolonged laughter. The MAN is increasingly disconcerted.


CHRIS (collecting himself ): Sorry, that's terribly rude of me. (He collapses laughing again. Collects himself again. Wiping his eyes.) Oh, Lord ! Sorry ! I really am most terribly sorry.

MAN: Well, is there a discount or isn't there ?

ALEX (looking at him steadily): There is an answer to that.


Pause.


MAN (angrily): Well, what is it ?


CHRIS does not reply directly but turns L & shouts "LADS !!!" MATT meanwhile pulls out a guitar. From the staircase, a group of cobweb-covered men & women run down. They are dressed in grey & have grey faces & grey hair. Despite their sombre appearance they are very jolly. They are musicians, here to sing & play a song. 

The arrangement of the music can be as elaborate or otherwise as resources permit. The optimum is a full dixieland jazz band: piano, banjo, trombone, trumpet & clarinet. However it could be done with piano & trumpet, solo piano, solo guitar or banjo. Or whatever musicians are available.


MAN (astonished ): Who are they ?

CHRIS: They ? They are the chorus of the Shades of the Dead Booksellers of course.


Someone strums an opening chord - an A.


MATT: And they want to sing you a song !

CHRIS: And teach you a lesson !

MATT: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 . . .


MATT, CHRIS & THE SHADES now sing & play There Ain't No Discount for Bulk, which is a jazz song in the style of Bessie Smith.


    A                                 E                               A         A7
1. There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk

           D                                                       A
There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk

 A                                              A7
We don't want you to sulk - or turn into the Hulk

                 D                                                 B7
But there really ain't, there really ain't no discount for bulk !

           A                      E                               A
There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk


[Here the chord pattern may be repeated as many times as desired to enable whoever wants to / can to take a solo.]


      A                                 E                               A        A7
2.  There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk

           D                                                       A
There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk

A                                                            A7
We don't mean to make you sore - but it's a frightful bore

           D                                                B7
We've heard it, oh we've heard it all a million times before !

           A                      E                               A
There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk.



The songs ends with a flourish. Everyone who has been singing cheers. 

Blackout.









Sunday, 25 November 2012

Atheism/Character




"La perception d'un ange ou d'un dieu n'a pas de sens pour moi. Ce lieu géométrique où la raison divine ratifie la mienne m'est pour toujours incompréhensible."

- Camus, Le mythe de Sisyphe , p.68 (ISBN 9782070322886)


"The perception of an angel or a god has no meaning for me. That geometrical spot where divine reason ratifies mine will always be incomprehensible to me."

- The Myth of Sisyphus , p.47, trans. Justin O'Brien (ISBN 9780141182001)





Voltaire (1694-1778)

"Caractère

Du mot grec impression, gravure . C'est que la nature a gravé dans nous. Pouvons-nous l'effacer ? grande question. Si j'ai un nez de travers et deux yeux de chat, je peux les cacher avec un masque. Puis-je davantage sur le caractère que m'a donné la nature ?"

- Voltaire, Dictionnaire philosophique  (Garnier Frères 1967)


"Character

From the Greek word impression, engraving. It is what nature has engraved in us. Can we efface it ? Vast question. If I have a hooked nose & two cat's eyes I can hide them with a mask. Can I do better with the character nature has given me ?"

- Philosophical Dictionary, p.75, trans. Theodore Besterman, (ISBN 014044257X)



For some time Man has not been satisfied by what is in front of him, by what is really there, by the sky, the earth, the sun, the moon, the stars, the sea. He has so often felt he has to create something or someone behind or above it all. This something or someone he makes in his own image, & then genuinely feels that the thing he made, made him. What evidence is there that Man made God or the gods & not the other way round ? One indication is the startling resemblance between a given God or gods & those that worship Him or them. As Xenophanes (c.570-c.478 BCE) wrote at the very dawn of philosophy:


"Ethiopians say their gods are snub-nosed & black;
Thracians that theirs are blue-eyed & red-haired."

- Fragment 16

"But if horses or oxen or lions had hands
or could draw with their hands & accomplish such works as men,
horses would draw the figures of the gods as similar to horses, & the oxen as similar to oxen,
& they would make the bodies
of the sort which each of them had."

- Fragment 15

-  Xenophanes, Fragments , trans. J.H.Lesher (ISBN 0802085083)


In worshipping a god, people are worshipping their own projection. This remains true whether the god in question is conceived in the most concrete or the most abstract terms, & everywhere in between.

The Universe is nothing but an unfolding process. It has no intention as far as Man is concerned. Therefore there is no Providence, no Destiny, no Doom & no Fate, except in so far as fate is character & vice versa. There is no heaven, no hell, no Last Judgement, no afterlife whatsoever, no reincarnation, no transmigration of souls. There is no soul except to the extent that soul  is a synonym for individual consciousness . However, I must admit here that as far as I know at this time none of the sciences are able to explain either the origin or the precise nature of consciousness.

That leaves the form of life after death called Fame or Reputation, which was an absolutely crucial part of the Heroic Ideal. The Warrior took satisfaction & inspiration from the expectation that his great deeds would be remembered & celebrated by generations to come, whether it be Achilles or Beowulf or their counterparts in real life. As you can see, I disagree with the Stoics in general about the existence of Providence & with Marcus Aurelius in particular about the real existence of the gods, on which point he is most insistent, e.g. Mediations, Book 12, 28. However, I agree wholeheartedly with another of Marcus' themes, which is the complete meaninglessness of posthumous fame. For instance, the following:


"30. Look down from above on the numberless herds of mankind, with their mysterious ceremonies, their divers voyagings in storm & calm, & all the chequered pattern of their comings & gatherings & goings. Go on to consider the life of bygone generations; & then the life of all those who are yet to come; & even at the present day, the life of the hordes of far-off savages. In short, reflect what multitudes there are who are ignorant of your very name; how many more will have speedily forgotten it; how many, perhaps praising you now, who will soon enough be abusing you; & that therefore remembrance, glory, & all else together are things of no worth."

- Meditations , Book 9


I think that was true when Marcus wrote it, & it's even more true today, when there are so many more people. More succinctly:


"35. All of us are creatures of a day; the rememberer & the remembered alike."

- Meditations , Book 4


Picking up the point about fate being character, by fate is character  I mean that one's fate is the outcome of one's character or personality, & is alterable to the extent they are. But as to the Fates of classical mythology, or the Norns, or some suprapersonal force separate from Man himself deciding how things will go for you, what happens to you - no. The fate of a nation or culture is determined in exactly the same way, it is an outcome in time of the character or personality of that nation or culture.




I want to finish with a long quote from Voltaire, on the subject of character & the extent to which it is possible to change it.  It is the last 2 paragraphs from his entry in his Dictionnaire philosophique  on Character, the start of which is quoted beneath his portrait above: you can find the French text in the edition referred to there. I am often wary of Voltaire's views in his writing, because he is the Devil himself for mixing fact & opinion so they cannot be separated. This quote ends with two illustrative anecdotes; I'm not sure how far I agree with Voltaire's point here, but I think they are very funny:


"Age weakens the character; it is a tree that produces nothing but a few degenerate fruits, but they are still of the same kind; it gets to be covered with knots & moss, it becomes worm-eaten, but it is still an oak or a pear tree. If we could change our character we would give ourselves one, we would be masters of nature. Can we give ourselves something ? Do we not receive everything ? Try to arouse continuous activity in an indolent mass, to freeze with apathy the boiling soul of the impetuous, to inspire a taste for music & poetry into one who lacks taste & an ear: you will no more succeed than if you undertook to give sight to one born blind. We perfect, we mitigate, we hide what nature has placed in us; but we place nothing in ourselves.

A farmer was told: 'You have too many fish in this pond, they will not thrive; there are too many animals in your fields, there is not enough grass, they will lose weight.' After this exhortation it so happened that pike ate half my man's carp, & wolves half of his sheep; the rest fattened. Will he congratulate himself on his management ? This countryman is you yourself; one of your passions devours the others & you think you have triumphed over yourself. Do we not really all resemble the old general of ninety who, coming across some young officers who were causing a disturbance with some women of the town, said in a temper: 'Gentlemen, is this the example I give you ?'


'Sisyphus' by Titian







Sunday, 18 November 2012

The Well-Read Man

An Imitation of Harold Pinter's The Birthday Party



 "C'est ainsi que bâille d'avance d'ennui un lettré à qui on parle d'un nouveau << beau livre >>, parce qu'il imagine une sorte de composé de tous les beaux livres qu'il a lus, tandis qu'un beau livre est particulier, imprévisible, et n'est pas fait de la somme de tous les chefs-d'oeuvre précédents mais de quelque chose que s'être parfaitement assimilé cette somme ne suffit nullement à faire trouver, car c'est justement en dehors d'elle. Dès qu'il a eu connaissance de cette nouvelle oeuvre, le lettré, tout à l'heure blasé, se sent de l'intérêt pour la réalité qu'elle dépeint."
                        - Marcel Proust, Nom de pays: le pays , p.23 (ISBN 9782080704696)


"So it is that a well-read man will at once begin to yawn with boredom when one speaks to him of a new 'good book', because he imagines a sort of composite of all the good books he has read, whereas a good book is something special, something unforeseeable, & is made up not of the sum of all previous masterpieces but of something which the most thorough assimilation of every one of them would not enable him to discover, since it exists not in their sum but beyond it. Once he has become acquainted with this new work, the well-read man, however jaded his palate, feels his interest awaken in the reality which it depicts."
                       - Place-Names: the Place , trans. C. K. Scott Moncrieff & Terence Kilmartin, p. 705 (ISBN 0140182225). Proust here making a plea for readers for A la recherche du temps perdu as well as a valid point.



"You've been with the professors & they've all liked your looks

 With great lawyers you have discussed lepers & crooks

 You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books

 You're very well-read, it's well known."

- Bob Dylan, Ballad of a Thin Man



Scene: A ground floor flat in Oxford. In the middle of the stage is a sofa which seats three, facing the audience. There is a pile of books by the end of the sofa L. At the back L is a large bookcase full of books. (These are the essential elements. Any other clutter may be added in the flat as the imagination of the designer & resources allow.) To the far R is a street door, bedroom door in the back wall, & door to the kitchen far L.

A man in his mid-twenties called Chris Andrews who looks like a student is sitting in the middle of the sofa reading. We can see he is on the last few pages of his book. There is a mug next to him. He reads intently, turning the pages every so often. This may be done in real time if desired; there's no rush. Finally he finishes, closes the book & puts it on top of the pile of books by the sofa. The book is this -  the Oxford World's Classics edition of  Le Morte d'Arthur, ISBN 9780199537341 - http://ukcatalogue.oup.com/product/9780199537341.do#.UKk5RHaP8y0  I draw your attention to the 2nd sentence of the 2nd paragraph of the blurb.


CHRIS (sounding very pleased with himself ): Finished !


He picks up the cup & exits through the kitchen door.

There is a loud knock from outside on the street door. CHRIS reappears looking puzzled & quickly opens the door. Two smartly dressed men push past him & are immediately in the room. CHRIS stands rather helplessly in the middle of the stage.


CHRIS: Uh - can I help you ?

TEXTE: Mr Andrews ?

CHRIS: Yes.

TEXTE: Mr Chris  Andrews ?

CHRIS: Yes.

TEXTE: Ah, that's a relief. (to INTEGRAL) At least we've got the right house. (to CHRIS, beaming with his arms outstretched ) And the right man !


INTEGRAL sits down on the left side of the sofa. TEXTE crosses to the bookcase & begins to study the books. 


TEXTE (to himself ): Mr Andrews. Mr Chris Andrews. (turning to CHRIS) No less !

CHRIS (bewildered ): Can I help you ?

TEXTE: Marvellous thing a library. Just like my old dad used to say to me. 'Simey', he used to say to me, 'take my tip, there is no resource like a well-stocked library'. Wonderful man he was. Pillar of the community.

CHRIS: Who are you ? What are you doing in my flat ?


No reply.


CHRIS: What are you doing in my flat ?

TEXTE: You're quite right, Chris - you don't mind if we call you Chris ? - we haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Mr Texte & this is Mr Integral. As to what we're doing here . . . I think you know.

CHRIS: I don't.

TEXTE (wagging his finger): Come come now, you know what we're doing here, surely you know.

CHRIS: I don't. I've got no idea.

TEXTE (to INTEGRAL): Shall I give him a hint ?

INTEGRAL: Give him a hint.

TEXTE: This is fun ! Almost like a game. A guessing game. Well. Let's say it's got something to do with a certain book.

CHRIS: A certain book ?

TEXTE: A certain book. A particular book. A most particular book that you . . . ah . . . (to INTEGRAL) how shall I put this ?

INTEGRAL (picking up the book from the top of the pile that  CHRIS had put there & waving it at him): It's this book. This book. This book you've just (spitting the word out) finished.

CHRIS: Malory ?

TEXTE: Malory. Precisely. (INTEGRAL throws him the book. He reads the front cover .) "Sir Thomas Malory, Le Morte d'Arthur, The Winchester Manuscript." It's come to our attention that you had just finished this book.

CHRIS: Come to your attention ?

TEXTE: Our attention. yes.

CHRIS: How ?

TEXTE (approaching CHRIS & standing too near to him L): Do you regard yourself as having read Malory ?

CHRIS: What do you mean ?


INTEGRAL also gets up & comes to stand too close to CHRIS on the R, boxing him in.


INTEGRAL: Malory ! Malory ! Are you stupid or something ? Do you regard yourself as having read Malory ?

CHRIS: Well, I just finished it, didn't I ?

TEXTE: But there's a problem.

INTEGRAL: A hitch.

TEXTE: A drawback.

INTEGRAL: A fly in the ointment.

TEXTE: A great big fly.

CHRIS: Look. Why don't you leave me alone ? . . . there's nothing for you here.

TEXTE: Silence ! (Pause .) This text of Malory, (sneering) this one you've just read . . . it's abridged !

CHRIS: Abriged ?

TEXTE: Edited.

INTEGRAL: Reduced.

TEXTE: Filleted.

INTEGRAL: Pasteurised.

CHRIS: What ?

TEXTE: They cut the battle scenes. The editor cut the battle scenes. Too boring apparently.

CHRIS: Well . . .

TEXTE: So our point is, you can't really consider yourself to have read Le Morte d'Arthur. Since this edition is abridged. But that's not the whole of our concern. It's also come to our attention - it's also come to our attention that you regard yourself as a well-read man.

INTEGRAL: An intellectual.

TEXTE: A scholar.

INTEGRAL: Omnicompetent.

TEXTE: A master of the arts. But we know the truth, Adams ! We're on to you ! Your pretensions curt no ice with us. You're a fraud !

CHRIS: A fraud ?

INTEGRAL: So he admits it !

TEXTE (pacing up & down): A handsome confession. We're here to sound you, Adams, from top to bottom. To investigate you. To make you realise the falsity of your claims, (pointing at  CHRIS) even your unuttered ones ! You eat baby food !

INTEGRAL: He likes it !

CHRIS (feebly ): I am quite well-read, you know.


TEXTE comes to a halt by the bookcase L.


INTEGRAL: Well-read ! About the only thing he reads is The Daily Mail !

TEXTE: The match reports.

INTEGRAL: The gossip columns.

TEXTE: The celebrity news.

INTEGRAL: He's lucky if he can make it through the occasional copy of Heat !

CHRIS (gesturing at the bookcase ): But what about those ?

TEXTE: Those ?

INTEGRAL (scornfully ) Those !

TEXTE: The books ? You mean the books ? (moving back to box CHRIS in again) Possession is one thing, Adams, mastery of contents quite another. Have you ever read Herodotus ?

CHRIS: I've glanced at it, yes.

INTEGRAL: Glanced at it ! Glanced at it ! What about Boccaccio ?

TEXTE: The Arabian Nights ?

INTEGRAL: Don Quixote ?

TEXTE: Hypnerotomachia Poliphili ?

INTEGRAL: Malleus Maleficarum ?

TEXTE: On The Origin of Species ?

INTEGRAL: Apologia Pro Vita Sua ?

CHRIS: Uhhhh . . . uhhhhhn . . .


CHRIS breaks away & dashes to sit in the middle of the sofa. He rocks back & forth as TEXTE (L) & INTEGRAL (R) stand at either side & berate him.


TEXTE: De Civitate Dei ?

INTEGRAL: Augustine's Confessions ?

TEXTE: Rousseau's ditto ?

INTEGRAL: Le rouge et le noir ?

TEXTE: Les liaisons dangereuses ?

INTEGRAL: Dictionnaire philosophique ?

TEXTE: A Tale of Two Cities ?

INTEGRAL: Huckleberry Finn ?

TEXTE: Bede's History ?

CHRIS (shouting): I have read that one !

TEXTE: In Latin ?

INTEGRAL: In Urdu ?

TEXTE: In Sanskrit ?

INTEGRAL: In Farsi ?

TEXTE: He won't answer !

INTEGRAL: He CAN'T answer !

CHRIS: I . . . I . . . I . . . I . . .

TEXTE (bending forwards): Yes ?

CHRIS (shoulders sagging): I . . . I haven't read those books you mention. I suppose I am rather a fraud. I DID think I was well-read.

TEXTE (patting him on the shoulder ): There, there - that's it - there, there; (Straightening up ). We're here to purge your soul, Adams, intellectually speaking. Yes, to clean your soul. We'll make it clean as a whistle !

INTEGRAL: As the driven snow.

TEXTE: As the undriven snow.

INTEGRAL: Glistening silently on the fields & on the streets.

TEXTE: I couldn't have put it better myself !


Pause.


CHRIS: Somehow I seem to see myself as I really am now. I'm diminished but also . . .

TEXTE: More real ?

CHRIS: More real. Yes. So many pretences dropped away. Who needs that weight anyway ? How can I ever thank you ?

TEXTE: Thank us ? There's no need to thank us. Besides which you might find it rather difficult. You see - (expansively ) We're not even here !

CHRIS (looking up in astonishment): Not even here ?


                          BLACKOUT












































               

Saturday, 3 November 2012

Camus & Painting





Albert Camus (1913-60)




Camus liked referring to paintings in his writing.

For example, the sly & comical way he introduces Van Eyck's The Just Judges into La Chute (The Fall )*.

The Just Judges (full length)


 (Here is the link for that image above. You can see it in another screen & click on it to enlarge it: http://framingpainting.com/Uploadpic/Jan%20van%20Eyck/big/The%20Ghent%20Altarpiece%20The%20Just%20Judges.jpg )

The Just Judges (the group of figures)


"    A propos, voulez-vous ouvrir ce placard, s'il vous plaît. Ce tableau oui, regardez-le. Ne le reconnaissez-vous pas ? Ce sont Les juges intègres . Vous ne sursautez pas ? Votre culture aurait donc des trous ? Si vous lisiez pourtant les journaux, vous vous rapelleriez le vol, en 1934, à Gand, dans la cathédrale Saint-Bavon, d'un des panneaux du fameux retable de Van Eyck, L'Agneau mystique . Ce panneau s'appelait Les Juges intègres . Il représentait des juges à cheval venant adorer le saint animal. On l'a remplacé par une excellente copie, car l'original est demeuré introuvable. Eh bien, le voici. Non, je n'y suis pour rien. Un habitué de Mexico-City , que vous avez aperçu l'autre soir, l'a vendu pour une bouteille au gorille, un soir d'ivresse. J'ai d'abord conseillé à notre ami de l'accrocher en bonne place et longtemps, pendant qu'on les recherchait dans le monde entier, nos juges dévots ont trôné à Mexico-City , au-dessus des ivrognes et des souteneurs. Puis le gorille, sur ma demande, l'a mis en dépôt ici. Il rechignait un peu à le faire, mais il a pris peur quand je lui ai expliqué l'affaire. Depuis, ces estimables magistrats font ma seule compagnie. Là-bas, au-dessus du comptoir, vous avez vu quel vide ils ont laissé."

- La Chute , p. 134-5, Editions Gallimard


"By the way, will you please open that cupboard ? Yes, look at that painting. Don't you recognise it ? It is The Just Judges. That doesn't make you jump ? Can it be that your culture has gaps ? Yet if you read the papers, you would recall the theft in 1934, from the Saint-Bavon cathedral at Ghent, of one of the panels of the famous Van Eyck altarpiece, The Adoration of the Lamb . That panel was called The Just Judges . It represented judges on horseback coming to adore the sacred animal. It was replaced by an excellent copy, for the original was never found. Well, here it is. No, I had nothing to do with it. A frequenter of Mexico City  - you had a glimpse of him the other evening - sold it to the gorilla for a bottle, one drunken evening. I first advised our friend to hang it in a place of honour, & for a long time, while they were being looked for throughout the world, our devout judges sat enthroned at Mexico City  above the drunkards & the pimps. Then the gorilla, at my request, put it in custody here. He baulked a little at doing so, but he got a fright when I explained the matter to him. Since then, these worthy magistrates form my sole company. At Mexico City , above the bar, you saw what a void they left."

- The Fall , p.94-5, Penguin 1963, trans. Justin O'Brien


[*La Chute  consists of a monologue by a man called Jean-Baptiste Clamence addressed over some time & in different circumstances to a companion who you never find out who it is exactly: in effect the reader is this companion, the one being talked to. To describe La Chute some more, I am going to quote the blurb on the back of my English edition: "Jean-Baptiste Clamence, a successful Paris barrister, appeared to himself & to others the epitome of good citizenship & decent behaviour. Suddenly a handful of circumstances explode his sleek self-esteem, & he sees through the deep-seated hypocrisy of his existence to the condescension which motivates his every action. Running from this discovery first into debauchery, then into self-judgement, he finally settles in the fog-bound wilderness of Amsterdam's waterfront where, a self-styled 'judge penitent', he describes his fall to a chance acquaintance." Mexico City  is the name of the bar Clamence frequents, & where he first meets the person who is the addressee of the novel. The Gorilla is the owner/barman of the Mexico City .]


The Adoration of the Lamb aka The Ghent Altarpiece by Jan & Hubert van Eyck, completed 1432. You can see The Just Judges bottom far left.

Re-reading the book for this piece, I found that Clamence points out the place where a painting has been hanging but isn't any more above the bar in Mexico City  to the unknown person he is speaking to in the 3rd paragraph of the book when they first meet. The section quoted above is from near the end of the novel. The Just Judges really was stolen in 1934, it wasn't recovered when Camus wrote the book, & in fact it has never been recovered. It was replaced by a copy in 1945.


Man in a Red Turban by Jan van Eyck, 1433. Some scholars think this is a self-portrait.

The spark for this piece came from my delight at finding the following in Camus' essay Sketch of One of the Elect° : it is one person I love, Camus, referring to another I love, Piero della Francesca. (I don't have the French text for this.)



Frederico da Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino by Piero della Francesca, c.1472-4


"It would be puerile to exaggerate the meaning of these confessions. They are the significant shadows of the portrait, the fold of the lip which Piero della Francesca gave to the Duke d'Urbino. It would be nothing without the rest, the hard eyes, the imperious nose, & even the landscape in the background. But, without it, the face would lose its secret & its humanity."

°from 'Lyrical & Critical', Hamish Hamilton 1967, trans. Philip Thody


Thursday, 25 October 2012

Jack Kelly's 'Gunpowder'

I'm reading a terrific book by Jack Kelly about the history of gunpowder : http://www.atlantic-books.co.uk/book/Gunpowder . I am reading the paperback, ISBN 1843541912 / 9781843541912.

At the end of a chapter describing the development of the use of canons on board European ships from Vasco da Gama in the very late 15th c. to the Napoleonic Wars, he has the following striking passage:

Vasco da Gama, 1469-1524

Horatio Nelson, 1758-1805

"Sea battles are almost invariably wrapped in a cloak of glory. Horatio Nelson, who helped hone fighting tactics to a peak of brutality, now stands in state on his oversized pillar in Trafalgar Square. Yet few events, even in war, match the naval fight of the gunpowder era for sheer madness. That two bands of poor, illiterate, scurvy-ridden men, kidnapped & driven by the whip, should be induced to fire at each other from point-blank range with massive guns - it was a ritual of almost incomprehensible savagery & barbarism. That it should have continued & reached its apogee in the Age of Enlightenment is a deep paradox that any theory of political conflict is feeble to explain."


- Gunpowder , p. 107


Nelson's Column

Iggle Piggle's Not in Bed ! : Ontological Semiotics in 'In The Night Garden'

There is in fact no blog to go with this, I am afraid. Having thought of the title, it was simply too good to waste.

Iggle Piggle (with his characteristic blanket) & Upsy Daisy
Ditto



Tuesday, 16 October 2012

Marcus on Being Straightforward

The party conference season has just ended in the UK, & the race for the Presidency is in full swing in the US. In this context, when we have seen & heard so many protestations by leaders & their would-be replacements, you may well imagine how forcibly I was struck by the following passage by Marcus Aurelius [Meditations , Bk.11.]:


Barack Obama


Mitt Romney

Joe Biden & Paul Ryan in debate.

David Cameron

Ed Miliband

Nick Clegg

"15. How hollow & insincere it sounds when someone says, 'I am determined to be perfectly straightforward with you.' Why, man, what is all this ? The thing needs no prologue; it will declare itself. It should be written on your forehead, it should echo in the tones of your voice, it should shine out in a moment from your eyes, just as a single glance from the beloved tells all to the lover. Sincerity & goodness ought to have their own unmistakable odour, so that one who encounters this becomes straightway aware of it despite himself. A candour affected is a dagger concealed. The feigned friendship of the wolf is the most contemptible of all, & to be shunned beyond everything. A man who is truly good & sincere & well-meaning will show it by his looks, & no one can fail to see it."

Sunday, 23 September 2012

The Best Year for Music ?

What do you think is the best year for music in the 20th century ? 1956 and 1968 must surely be strong contenders, at least from the perspective of Rock music. However, the best year for music as far as I am concerned in the 20th c. is 1948. The reason is that John Lee Hooker, Hank Williams, Charlie Parker & Muddy Waters were all recording masterpieces in that year; also, laying the foundations of so much music to come. That list of names is actually quite hard to take in once you start thinking of what they achieved in music collectively.

Hank Williams



Charlie Parker



Muddy Waters



Charlie Parker very much appreciated Hank Williams' songs, a taste extremely unusual in his milieu, where Country or Hillbilly music was generally regarded as unsophisticated nonsense, certainly not worth serious attention. There are stories of Parker baffling his acolytes & other hipsters in New York jazz hang-outs, where he would put Hank Williams repeatedly on the jukebox. People remember this so vividly because it was such an eccentric thing to do in that place at that time. When challenged about it, Parker would say "Listen to the stories, man." I like to think it was one genius recognising another.*


So - 1948. & I haven't even mentioned Lightnin' Hopkins, or Flatt & Scruggs, also recording that year .....




*My source for this story is Ken Burns' Jazz. I use the word genius advisedly in the case of each man.






John Lee Hooker








































Marcus Aurelius

"17. For the thrown stone there is no more evil in falling than there is good in rising."


- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 9

Saturday, 22 September 2012

Byron, West, Macaulay & 'Correctness'

Recently, I bought a book second-hand called Byron: Twentieth Century Views. It is a collection of 20th c. critical essays about Byron, edited by a man called Paul West, published in 1963. (How odd it is to write 20th c. as a thing over & done with, just as historical as the 19th or the 2nd c.) Mr West writes the following in the 1st & 2nd paragraphs of his introduction:


".... There is no excluding the biography, & it is vain to rebuke critics who invoke it: Byron is not one of those poets who can be used as a specimen for discussions of verbal chiaroscuro. It may be possible to sustain such discussions for a while on the basis of a passage here or there; but he is not a poet of clever shades any more than he is impersonal. To try excluding the man is eventually to discover that little of the poetry can stand alone &, if it is made to, seems like fragments from the hands of various pasticheurs.

No doubt this proves Byron not a great poet. If he is great, he is so for reasons not primarily poetic ...."


You may well imagine how utterly staggered I was by the easy & entirely unjustified assurance of the 2nd to last sentence there. West is referring off-hand to a vast set of unstated critical assumptions about what the terms poet & great poet mean, as if they were so widely-shared, so well established, so well known there is no need whatsoever to define them any further. In passing, I am perfectly well aware what chiaroscuro means - I have no idea what discussions of verbal chiaroscuro means, & I think if challenged West would be hard put to explain what he actually means by it either. The two things that strike me chiefly in relation to Byron's poetry about this passage are its irrelevance & its effrontery.

I am emphatically not saying that Byron is sacred or above criticism: but at his best I rate him very highly indeed. If a definition of great poet excludes Byron, then that definition is wrong: it requires re-defining. But let the man himself speak:


Lord Byron (1788-1824)


















"                             17
'Que scais-je ?'* was the motto of Montaigne,
   As also of the first Academicians:
That all is dubious which Man may attain,
   Was one of their most favourite positions.
There's no such thing as certainty, that's plain
   As any of Mortality's Conditions:
So little do we know what we're about in
This world, I doubt if doubt itself be doubting.


                              18
It is a pleasant voyage perhaps to float
   Like Pyrrho, on a sea of speculation;
But what if carrying sail capsize the boat ?
   Your wise men don't know much of navigation;
And swimming long in the abyss of thought
   Is apt to tire: a calm and shallow station
Well nigh the shore, where one stoops down and gathers
Some pretty shell, is best for moderate bathers."


- Don Juan, Canto 9
[*old French for 'What do I know ?']



"                            8
You know or don't know, that great Bacon saith,
  'Fling up a straw, 'twill show which way the wind blows;'
And such a straw, borne on by human breath,
   Is Poesy, according as the mind glows;
A paper kite, which flies 'twixt life and death,
   A shadow which the onward Soul behind throws:
And mine's a bubble not blown up for praise,
But just to play with, as an infant plays."


- Don Juan, Canto 14


"                            13
With false Ambition what had I to do ?
   Little with love, and least of all with fame !
And yet they came unsought and with me grew,
   And made me all which they can make - a Name.
Yet this was not the end I did pursue -
   Surely I once beheld a nobler aim.
But all is over - I am one the more
To baffled millions which have gone before."


- [Epistle to Augusta]


"And this the world calls frenzy; but the wise
 Have a far deeper madness, and the glance
 Of melancholy is a fearful gift:
 What is it the telescope of truth,
 Which strips the distance of its fantasies,
 And brings life near in utter nakedness,
 Making the cold reality too real ?"


- The Dream, ll. 178-183



I would also direct your attention to When We Two Parted (http://www.potw.org/archive/potw40.html) & Darkness (http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173081)



In the first two extracts quoted above, we can see how Byron is the ancestor of Noel Coward & Cole Porter in how he can sometimes put things in a way which is at once insouciant, affecting & true. I do not know whether this is a case of direct influence, or subterranean continuity in styles of humour. Whether conscious or not, the link to me seems clear.


Reflecting on West's assertion that Byron is not a great poet, because he does not conform to West's unstated definition of that term, it made me think of a passage by Macaulay, which is in his review written in 1830 of Moore's Life of Byron. Macaulay is talking about the concept of correctness as an overwhelmingly good thing in poetry & art generally. This passage seems to me to answer West perfectly, as well as expounding some basic & important truths about good & bad (or useful & useless) criticism. I have quoted some excerpts of the much longer passage until the final paragraph, which is quoted whole. The entire passage is well worth reading, as is the entire review.

Thomas Babington Macaulay (1800-1859)




".... In the same manner we constantly hear it said, that the poets of the age of Elizabeth had far more genius, but far less correctness, than those of the age of Anne. It seems to be taken for granted that there is some incompatibility, some antithesis between correctness & creative power. We rather suspect that this notion arises merely from an abuse of words, & that it has been the parent of many of the fallacies which perplex the science of criticism.

What is meant by correctness in poetry ? If by correctness be meant the conforming to rules which have their foundation in truth & in the principles of human nature, then correctness is only another name for excellence. If by correctness be meant the conforming to rules purely arbitrary, correctness may be another name for dulness [sic] & absurdity.

.... It would be amusing to make a digest of the irrational laws which bad critics have framed for the government of poets ....

It is not in the fine arts alone that this false correctness is prized by narrow-minded men, by men who cannot distinguish means from ends, or what is accidental from what is essential. M. Jourdain admired correctness in fencing. 'You had no business to hit me then. You must never thrust in quart  till you have thrust in tierce.' M. Tomes liked correctness in medical practice. 'I stand up for Artemius. That he killed his patient is plain enough. But still he acted quite according to rule. A man dead is a man dead; & there is an end of the matter. But if rules are to be broken, there is no saying what consequences may follow.' We have heard of an old German officer, who was a great admirer of correctness in military operations. He used to revile Bonaparte for spoiling the science of war, which had been carried to such exquisite perfection by Marshall Daun. 'In my youth we used to march & countermarch all the summer without gaining of losing a square league, & then we went into winter quarters. And now comes an ignorant, hot-headed young man, who flies about from Boulogne to Ulm, & from Ulm to the middle of Moravia, & fights battles in December. The whole system of his tactics is monstrously incorrect.' The world is of opinion, in spite of crtics like these, that the end of fencing is to hit, that the end of medicine is to cure, that the end of war is to conquer, & that those means are the most correct which best accomplish the ends."









Tuesday, 4 September 2012

Prince Philip on Henry VIII

Antonia Fraser




Pinter & Fraser at home



This is an excerpt from Antonia Fraser's Must You Go ? about her life with Harold Pinter. A lot of the book is diary entries, & this is one for 21 March, 1990. I love it because it rings so true about Prince Philip. I can just see this happening.



Prince Philip c.1990


Vaclav Havel in 1990



"Havel's visit to London. We are asked to a small, i.e. non-State, lunch at Buckingham Palace .... the Queen arrives with the Duke of Edinburgh, into a small sitting room decorated with pictures of the daughters of George III .... I find myself with the Duke of Edinburgh. He asked me what I was writing - I was dreading that. When I revealed that it was The Six Wives of Henry VIII, he said quite angrily & looking irritable too: 'Why do people always say "Henry VIII & his six wives" as though it was all one word ? There is plenty more to say about Henry.' Me, cravenly: 'Oh yes, sir, there is, I mean he was a wonderful musician.' The Duke, sounding even crosser: 'He was a wonderful military strategist, a fighter, he bashed the French.' He repeated the words with great emphasis. 'He bashed the French.'"