Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts

2007-08-23

Summer 2007 recap

So, what was I doing all this time?

I kept to a reading list of only female authors:
The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy
Rebecca by Daphene Daphne du Maurier
The Blind Assassin by Margeret Atwood
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
Mystery of the Blue Train by Agatha Christie
Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen
Ms. du Maurier's and Ms. Rowling's books are the most recommendable. Other than the awkwardly extraneous epilogue, Deathly Hallows is a truly remarkable conclusion to the Harry Potter series. While much has been said about the book's look at mortality, I am increasingly impressed by it's politics. I can think of no other book that better illustrates the mechanisms that install tyrannical regimes to power. Parallels between the Death Eaters and the Nazi party are frighteningly elegant.

I also picked up a few new albums:
Sky Blue Sky by Wilco
Era Vulgaris by Queens of the Stone Age
Zeitgeist by [The] Smashing Pumpkins
Live at Radio City with Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds
Era Vulgaris is the probably the most interesting of the lot, and chasing down all the lovely B-Sides is worth it as well.

I saw a few movies in theater as well:
Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End
Oceans Thirteen
Spider-Man 3
Paris, je t'aime
Ratatouille
Transformers
Rescue Dawn
The Simpsons Movie
Stardust
The Bourne Supremacy
World's End was the best surprise. Not only did I like it more than Dead Man's Chest, it made me like that installment better than I had. Ratatouille was easily the best of the lot.

The site I'm building for Professor Anne Munly is complete for most practical purposes. You can visit it at http://soa.syr.edu/dwelling.

And I got a tattoo! Oh, I guess it was just marker. I think Claire did an excellent job on it though, and I think behind the sniggers, the other lifeguards were secretly envious.

2006-12-21

Live from UWEC

I'm visiting Eau Claire, and Claire is presently taking her final exam of the semester. I came into this computer lab to check my email and remind myself the order of the electron shells (Wikipedia tells me it's s p d f g—Claire and I couldn't remember g). I managed to get around to it eventually, but I first managed to get myself involved in editing a cover letter for one Joseph T. Jensen, who is graduating this weekend and is searching for a job in the mortgage-lending business. I helped him with his wording (active voice!), cleaned up his punctuation, and showed him that there are better fonts than Times New Roman. I always get a kick out of people's reactions when they're looking over my shoulder as I write/edit.  I'm sure I'd react similarly if I had the change to peer over the shoulder of Stephen King or maybe Thomas Pynchon, whose exquisitely-written Against the Day I'm beginning to read.

2006-12-04

Year of the whale

It took me 349 days, but I finally finished Moby-Dick.  I have no doubt the sluggish pace can be attributed to the long passages of plotless descriptions of whales and whaleships which made the middle third of the book a real chore to read.  I did, however, greatly appreciate the plot, dialogue, and overall excellent prose in the first and last thirds.

2006-11-18

San Narciso 49ers

I just finished Thomas Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49, my first novel from the author. I liked it; my most significant critcism is its brevity, for found myself done before I had a chance to make myself at home among its pages. This shouldn't be a problem with his newest novel, however: Against the Day, due out Tuesday, boasts a thousand pages (slightly more or less, depending on which sources you believe).

2006-09-08

For whom?

I've always been one to look at the dedication pages of books, and I'm usually please when I find one that is interesting due to the presence of a familiar name or a bit of humor. In the last few days I've eyed the one in Francis MacDonald Cornford's translation of The Republic a few times. It reads:

TO
F. C. C.
in gratitude for many hours
patiently given to the amendment of this version
by one whose sense of good English
in a never failing guide

which I don't consider very interesting, although somewhat preferable to

For Louise, again, always

which precedes James C. Scott's rather excellent book Seeing Like a State. Today my real estate development textbook arrived, and I was pleased to find a freer spirit at work:

This book is dedicated to the memory of Jim Graaskamp—
dynamic, insightful, slightly opinionated,
and one helluva guy.

It sounds like a good way to be remembered to me.

2006-08-15

3,289 Pages Later...

I'm back in Syracuse after spending my summer as a lifeguard and bookworm. I'll be returning to Moby-Dick, which I left on the shelf for the months I had access to the the Hennepin County Libraries' collection. During that time I read:
The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova
The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood
On Writing by Stephen King
Hearts in Atlantis by Stephen King
Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez
For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susannah Clarke
Hemingway's book was the least recommendable. I found that the word-for-word translations of Spanish phrases and the awkwardly omitted obscenities stifled the simple and elegant story. I'm hesitant to declare Clarke's book my favorite, but I will say I had the most fun reading it. I didn't quite get around to reading the Domesday Book, despite its new availability online.

2006-03-25

Eye of the storm

A snow that is almost a rain is falling on Syracuse, quieting what might otherwise be a raucous Friday night. In fact I forwent the Devo dance party being thrown by my classmates and instead headed to the Inn Complete where I sat by the fire and imbibed two pints of Guinness, my favorite of beers, while reading Moby-Dick.

But what has happened in my long silence? Michael and I, partners from the start of the semester, had a successful midterm review. Our analysis of power dynamics in the Palazzo Barberini led to a number of interesting iterations and some snazzy graphical analysis. Alas, we had to part ways when we returned from spring break in order to better accommodate the class as a whole, as certain partnerships had to be avoided and other maintained. Spring break was quite pleasant. I met with members of the Minneapolis office of SmithGroup, and I am very much hoping that they will be able to offer a summer internship. I completed my taxes (and sent Uncle Sam a check for what I owed), did homework, and caught up on sleep. Claire started her break on the Friday of my own, and we enjoyed each other's company, both on our own and with my family. The first day back at school I, along with my teammates Kirby and Miep, led an hour long discussion of the film Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...and Spring, which seemed to go well.

Who knows what the rest of the semester will hold, but for now I can say that life—while hectic—is good.

2005-04-16

An Odyssey Completed

I finished Ulysses this afternoon. I enjoyed it greatly, and I'm looking forward to reading it again. I might have to settle with the 1961 version of the text however, since my Gabler Edition is in unimpressive condition, partially due to standard wear and tear, mostly due the poor binding, which I've had to glue in numerous places throughout the semester.

I read much of the final episode of the book yesterday afternoon up on the sundeck with Sarah. It was an excellent day for such a pastime, and the experience was further enhanced by our trip to Jamba Juice beforehand. Jamba is introducing a new line of naturally caffeinated drinks, and we both received coupons for free drinks. I had the Matcha Green Tea Blast.
Matcha green tea powder enticingly blended with soymilk, nonfat frozen yogurt, sorbet and ice for a cool and creamy burst of energy! High in protein, calcium, phosphorus, and vitamin D. The power of Matcha, with antioxidants, theophylline and caffeine, makes this a blast.
Bad punctuation aside, the description proved accurate. The flavor reminded me of green tea icecream, but the texture was far superior.

2005-04-01

Rouge

I think I've spent a good ten minutes today with my face in various shades of crimson.

First, in James Joyce, we were examining the episode "Oxen of the Sun," and pulling apart some of the text that was written in a rather antiquated style. The chapter takes place at a maternity hospital, and is chockfull of offcolor references.
Christ's rood made she on breastbone and him drew that he would rathe infare under her thatch.
Professor Begam mentioned that there is, of course, a pun in this last word. I (true to form) must have had an amused look on my face, for he turned to me and asked me what the joke was. Decidedly less amused, I tried quickly to think of how to answer the question. It's playing at a reference to her pubic hair, isn't it? What was the word Joyce used back in "Lotus-Eaters" during the bath?
Enjoy a bath now: clean trough of water, cool enamel, the gentle tepid stream This is my body.

He foresaw he pale body reclined in it at full, naked, in a womb of warmth, oiled by scented melting soap, softly laved. He saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and saw the dark tangled curls of his bush floating, floating hair of the stream around the limp father of thousands, a languid floating flower.
'Bush.' That's it, as the passage came to me.
"It referring to her bush," I answered, which I figured would be perhaps slightly amusing, but not overly so, since I've made a habit of using Joyce's wordchoice whenever possible ('waistcoateers' for 'prostitutes' and 'the BMV' for 'the Blessed Virgin Mary'). What I hadn't counted on was being just a little bit wrong. Apparently 'thatch' was the female genitalia, and not the surrounding hair. The professor corrected me, and everyone laughed. I blushed for a good long while.

Then, in the Rise of American Post-Colonial Architecture, Narciso suddenly turned to me and commanded, "without blushing, define for me an 'erotic impulse.'"
By this time I was half tempted to look for the candid camera.
"Can I pass? I've already had a sufficiently similar experience today," I replied.
"Oh, do tell," said Narciso.
"You want my story?" I asked in fear.
"I'd rather have a definition for an 'erotic impulse." I paused and thought.
"Well, now I am blushing, but how about a sudden desire for a sexual experience?" I ventured hesitantly.
"Sexual experience?" Narciso asked.
"An experience," I emphasized.
"I don't like this word 'experience.'" he said. He suggest a desire for copulation would be better, and asked me if I was convinced.
"Not entirely," I answered.
"What don't you like?"
"I don't like 'copulation.' I think that many people desire some sort of other sexual act," I said as thoughts of my gay and lesbian friends and my pedophilic professors flitted through my head.
Narciso consented and went on to discuss a famous (but impotent) nineteenth century critic of architecture. I continued to blush for a good long while.

I can't remember a day like this since eighth grade health class. The day I recall took place during our sexual health unit. It was, of course, very uncool to laugh at anything of that type by the time we were in eighth grade. Come of think of it, I think it might have been uncool to laugh at anything. Anyhow, I sat right behind this fat kid named Brent. Brent was not cool, either by the eighth grade definition or my current definition. Brent would laugh at anything and everything in the sexual health class, even the most unfunny words imaginable like 'urethra.' Being as fat as he was, ol' Brent'd jiggle all over like a bowl full of jelly. And while I didn't see much to laugh about in 'vas deferens,' I did find much to laugh about in seeing waves of fat cruise up and down Brent's body every time Ms. Hegadus said 'vas deferens.' So I laughed, and no one knew the real cause for my mirth, and I blushed for a good long while.

2005-03-13

Gold and silver and bronze by gold

I met Jenny this morning for tea and mint hot chocolate. It occurred to me that I've now been friends with Jenny (whom I met in Ms. Braun's seventh-grade high performance English class) for over one-third of my life. It's an odd thought, if only because it makes my junior high days seem so distant. It's also a very comforting thought to know I have a friend of over seven years.

I met Sarah, a much more recent acquaintance (six months to the day by one definition), for lunch and an early-afternoon stroll. She took me to the Monona Terrace, which I had previously neglected to visit. As much as I dislike Frank Lloyd Wright in many respects (most notably what I view as pride of the inefficiency of his architecture), I have to concede that he was a genius. Sarah and I were the only two people of our age that we saw, and I was one of only three or four males. Sarah poked her head into one of the auditoriums and found that there was a workshop on wedding-related arts and crafts in progress.

This evening I read the eleventh episode of Ulysses, which is generally known as "Sirens." It was one of the more difficult episodes I've encountered thus far since the structure emulates music (which, of course, is central to the sirens' powers). The chapter begins with an "overture" of sorts which, using fragments of text, maps out the entire chapter. The sirens in this book have no magic, however; they are regular barmaidens (one brunette and one blond). I suppose, though, that many men would consider the effects of alcohol to be sufficiently enchanting.

2005-01-19

Spring 2005 / Ywimpled

Today marked the first day of classes in what is presumably my last semester here at Madison. I'm taking seventeen credits, and my course list is as follows:

Introduction to Cryptography
James Joyce
Environmental Conservation
Art History: Ancient and Medieval
The Rise of American Post Colonial Architecture

I started the first two classes this morning. The math course went as expected, although I had the distinct impression that there are few math majors in there besides the professor and myself; most of the pasty male-dominated class seemed to be from the computer science department or the engineering school. James Joyce was another matter entirely. We took attendance, and then our professor sighed and said that it was time for him to try to dissuade us from taking the class. He spoke at length about the tediousness and difficulty of reading Ulysses and quoted criticism from a few of the novel's more esteemed detractors. He suggested we read one of particular episode of the book tonight so that we can see if we really want to continue. (The episode he recommended is generally known as "Oxen of the Sun," a name given to it by Joyce himself, although never within the pages of Ulysses.)

I've finished Thursday's actual assigned reading, so I've been "reading" the section. In truth, I've found it to be impenetrable thus far, but intriguing nonetheless. Heck, just a title like "Oxen of the Sun" has me interested. Still, sentences such as 'Before born babe bliss had.' are quite challenging. Even individual words give me a run for my money. This is almost certainly the first time I've ever encountered "ywimpled." For this word, I did a quick Google search. jheem on Wordsmith.org says "The y- prefix is from the earlier Old English ge- prefix, which like its cognate in German, is one of the signs of the past participle in Old and Middle English...A wimple is a nun's hood which covers the nun's head and hair. It's sort of like a Christian burqa, but different from a snood. So, ywimpled would mean wearing a wimple or being a nun."

I think this class has the potential to be one of the most highly educational of my college career.

2004-11-16

3¢

My Shakespearean Drama professor used the phrase 'Mac(k) the Knife' in class today, and it occurred to me that I had no idea what that meant. I've been aware of the phrase for many years, but I never asked about it. This evening I decided to find out. Quick Google searches for "Mack the Knife" and "Mac the Knife" were not instantly helpful, so I ran upstairs to consult my nearest and dearest English major. Sarah, like me, had heard those three words used together but did not know their combined meaning. So I returned to the Internet for answers. I was assuming that 'mac' or 'mack' was a verb, so I went to the Oxford English Dictionary entry for the verb 'mack' (there was none for 'mac'). I didn't find what I was looking for, but I did find a very helpful example of using 'mack' to mean "to be or act as a pimp." The OED gives us:
1971 Who took Weight? 160 I was sho'nuff macking. I had nine..whores.
So that cleared that up. Getting back to 'Mac(k) the Knife,' I returned to Google, did a little more browsing, and found my answer within a minute or two. It seems that either spelling is legitament, so I'll use 'Mac,' which I prefer; I suspect this is because of that elusive Dave Matthew Band song "MacHead" or my past relationship with a MacLeod or both. Getting to the point here, it turns out Mac the Knife is the nickname for Macheath, who is a criminal mastermind of London in The Threepenny Opera, which I believe is a play and not, as the title indicates, an opera.

2004-09-24

Dark Side of the Rainbow

Last night I watched the first loop of Dark Side of the Rainbow, which is, of course, the MGM Studios film The Wizard of Oz with Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon replacing the normal soundtrack. It also happened to be my first time listening to the album, which I enjoyed in its own right as well as in conjunction with the picture.

Actually, I think I enjoyed that method of viewing the film more than the "straight-up" version. I know my opinion of the film isn't very popular (and for that reason I rarely voice it), but I just don't like the film version of The Wizard of Oz. I have long felt that the book is far superior. I feel the same way about One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, which won the Oscar for best picture, but I don't think anyone gets as upset when they discover that I dislike that movie. And Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone...well yes, people do get upset when they discover my feeling about that movie, but...whatever.

2004-06-02

5

I read the book Slaughterhouse-Five in the past twenty-four hours. It's a quick, yet compelling read. It's a good one to borrow from the library: easily done before its due, and probably not one to read more than twice.

2004-03-25

The School

by Donald Barthelme

Well, we had all these children out planting trees, see, because we figured that ... that was part of their education, to see how, you know, the root systems ... and also the sense of responsibility, taking care of things, being individually responsible. You know what I mean. And the trees all died. They were orange trees. I don't know why they died, they just died. Something wrong with the soil possibly or maybe the stuff we got from the nursery wasn't the best. We complained about it. So we've got thirty kids there, each kid had his or her own little tree to plant, and we've got these thirty dead trees. All these kids looking at these little brown sticks, it was depressing.

It wouldn't have been so bad except that just a couple of weeks before the thing with the trees, the snakes all died. But I think that the snakes -- well, the reason that the snakes kicked off was that ... you remember, the boiler was shut off for four days because of the strike, and that was explicable. It was something you could explain to the kids because of the strike. I mean, none of their parents would let them cross the picket line and they knew there was a strike going on and what it meant. So when things got started up again and we found the snakes they weren't too disturbed.

With the herb gardens it was probably a case of overwatering, and at least now they know not to overwater. The children were very conscientious with the herb gardens and some of them probably ... you know, slipped them a little extra water when we weren't looking. Or maybe ... well, I don't like to think about sabotage, although it did occur to us. I mean, it was something that crossed our minds. We were thinking that way probably because before that the gerbils had died, and the white mice had died, and the salamander ... well, now they know not to carry them around in plastic bags.

Of course we expected the tropical fish to die, that was no surprise. Those numbers, you look at them crooked and they're belly-up on the surface. But the lesson plan called for a tropical-fish input at that point, there was nothing we could do, it happens every year, you just have to hurry past it.

We weren't even supposed to have a puppy.

We weren't even supposed to have one, it was just a puppy the Murdoch girl found under a Gristede's truck one day and she was afraid the truck would run over it when the driver had finished making his delivery, so she stuck it in her knapsack and brought it to school with her. So we had this puppy. As soon as I saw the puppy I thought, Oh Christ, I bet it will live for about two weeks and then ... And that's what it did. It wasn't supposed to be in the classroom at all, there's some kind of regulation about it, but you can't tell them they can't have a puppy when the puppy is already there, right in front of them, running around on the floor and yap yap yapping. They named it Edgar -- that is, they named it after me. They had a lot of fun running after it and yelling, "Here, Edgar! Nice Edgar!". Then they'd laugh like hell. They enjoyed the ambiguity. I enjoyed it myself. I don't mind being kidded. They made a little house for it in the supply closet and all that. I don't know what it died of. Distemper, I guess. It probably hadn't had any shots. I got it out of there before the kids got to school. I checked the supply closet each morning, routinely, because I knew that was going to happen. I gave it to the custodian.

And then there was this Korean orphan that the class adopted through the Help the Children program, all the kids brought in a quarter a month, that was the idea. It was an unfortunate thing, the kid's name was Kim and maybe we adopted him too late or something. The cause of death was not stated in the letter we got, they suggested we adopt another child instead and sent us some interesting case histories, but we didn't have the heart. The class took it pretty hard, they began (I think, nobody ever said anything to me directly) to feel that maybe there was something wrong with the school. But I don't think there's anything wrong with the school, particularly. I've seen better and I've seen worse. It was just a run of bad luck. We had an extraordinary number of parents passing away, for instance. There were I think two heart attacks and two suicides, one drowning, and four killed together in a car accident. One stroke. And we had the usual heavy mortality rate among the grandparents, or maybe it was heavier that year, it seemed so. And finally the tragedy.

The tragedy occurred when Matthew Wein and Tony Mavrogordo were playing over where they're excavating for the new federal office building. There were all these big wooden beams stacked, you know, at the edge of the excavation. There's a court case coming out of that, the parents are claiming that the beams were poorly stacked. I don't know what's true and what's not. It's been a strange year.

I forgot to mention Billy Brandt's father, who was knifed fatally when he grappled with a masked intruder in his home.

One day, we had a discussion in class. They asked me, where did they go? The trees, the salamander, the tropical fish, Edgar, the poppas and mommas, Matthew and Tony, where did they go? And I said, I don't know, I don't know. And they said, who knows? and I said, nobody knows. And they said, is death that which gives meaning to life? And I said, no, life is that which gives meaning to life. Then they said, but isn't death, considered as a fundamental datum, the means by which the taken-for-granted mundanity of the everyday may be transcended in the direction of --

I said, yes, maybe.

They said, we don't like it.

I said, that's sound.

They said, it's a bloody shame!

I said, it is.

They said, will you make love now with Helen (our teaching assistant) so that we can see how it is done? We know you like Helen.

I do like Helen, but I said that I would not.

We've heard so much about it, they said, but we've never seen it.

I said I would be fired and that it was never, or almost never, done as a demonstration. Helen looked out the window.

They said, please, please make love with Helen, we require an assertion of value, we are frightened.

I said that they shouldn't be frightened (although I am often frightened) and that there was value everywhere. Helen came and embraced me. I kissed her a few times on the brow. We held each other. The children were excited. Then there was a knock on the door. I opened the door, and the new gerbil walked in. The children cheered wildly.

2004-03-10

Small World

I finished Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days just a moment ago. It is a very quick read and quite a bit of fun, but not the most plausible of books, in terms of its factual correctness, likeliness of events, and consistency of character behavior. It's not the great work that I was expecting, but worth my time nonetheless.

2004-02-28

Who Is John Galt?

I finished Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged this morning. It was a pretty good book, although rather preachy at times. I believe Ms. Rand had some good ideas, but failed to take into account a multitude of factors. Regardless of her shortcommings, I think that memebers of the Republican party would be wise to examine this work and see where they stand these days in comparison to the true conservative and advocate for freedom that is Ms. Rand. Atlas Shrugged is a very long book and at the same time both a "quick read" and a serious undertaking. I would recommend reading it should you have the time.

2004-02-22

Midnight Movie

I just returned from a delightful film called The Boondock Saints. It's high level of violence is topped by its strong language, which is second only to the movie's humor. I give it 3.5 stars. Much to my surprise, they were serving up free popcorn and sodas with the film over at the Union. I tried a grape soda, which was not very good, but the terribly cluttered label amused me. If one simply read it in the standard left-to-right, top-to-bottom method, it would say this: "Beverage Gray's Company quality taste since 1856 Janesville, Wisconsin Great American Grape pure cane sugar 100% caffeine free Soda." I walked back from the film with my fellow ex-Rocker Brian Ziff-Levine and his charming girlfriend Leah. Now its time for bed.

+