Eclipses and Ellipses

Put your ear to a life, any life, and there it is, the tell-tale tremolo, slur and slap of the unexpressed....Language makes me a stranger to my own life, forcing me to speak from both sides of my mouth. --Susan Mitchell, "Self-Portrait with Two Faces"

Saturday, July 22, 2006

The more you try to erase me, the more that I appear

1. Move over, Sufjan, my mp3 player deserves a much-needed break from your whispery vocals and sexy banjo-plucking. This week's new obsession is Thom Yorke's solo venture, The Eraser. And while I'm not a big fan of electronic bleeps and music that sounds like it was generated by a musically capable computer, I knew I'd like this album from the few songs I heard in Elmo's car 2 weeks ago. "And It Rained All Night," which does sound like a textured and percussive downpour, was an instant favorite. So was the intense and political "Harrowdown Hill," written with Dr. David Kelly (the U.N. weapons inspector who supposedly committed suicide) in mind. But my top listen-to-it-over-and-over pick is "Atoms for Peace," with its offbeat rhythms and lovely lyrics. Yorke's voice soars when he sings "I wanna get out and make it work" and when he repeats "So many lies, so many lies, so many lies, so many lies, So feel the love come off of them and take me in your arms." Awww!

2. A midnight text from Egay:
"The traveller cannot love, since love is stasis and travel is motion. If he returns to what he loved in a landscape and stays there, he is no longer a traveller but in a stasis and concentration, the lover of that particular earth, a native." --Derek Walcott
And while I'm certainly taking this out of context, I'm not sure I agree. One need not be a native in order to love a particular patch of earth
. One can be a traveller and still love a specific place (Rizal and Hemingway come to mind). And I don't like the notion of love as being static, especially if it's love of another person. Steadfast pa siguro. Unwavering. But static? Nothing and no one is static; we are all virtual travellers in this world. For love to exist I believe it must move and embrace change and accompany people in the process of becoming. On second thought, maybe I'd better read Walcott's Nobel lecture na nga muna.

3. Lady in the Water was implausible and disappointing. And not for the lack of the twist I've come to associate with M. Night Shyamalan's films. I wish the mythical aspects/creatures were more culturally rooted and less random. I wish there had been less minor characters, or that they had been more rounded (how many stereotypes of the protective and foreigner-wary Chinese mother do we really need in Western films?). I wish the tone had been more consistently suspenseful, instead of veering into off-key and forcedly funny moments (oh Paul Giamatti, that milk moustache was below you). I wish the characters acted like real people and not like cardboard cutouts who instantly believe in the unlikely. And I wish the bedtime story aspect had been explored further. If the film had been a story within a story told by a fumbling and improvising parent, that would have justified the almost-haphazard narrative direction. The lady in the water's name is Story, for night's sake! Shyamalan could have made a strong statement about the power of storytelling and the ability of stories to change us and make us believe -- but I don't think he did it successfully in this film. One thing I did enjoy was when the arrogant critic (whose arrival coincides with the beginning of the film) gets killed off by the scrunt despite his unflagging belief in the salvation of minor characters. But on second thought, Dear Writer/Director, must you really kill the critics? We too are here for a purpose, in this story beyond your story.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

A Full Week


1. Finally read Murakami's Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, after years of procrastination. And found it...long-winded. I know it's supposed to be one of his best novels, but I was disappointed, probably because I've read his other stuff, and was making a checklist of motifs in my head: search for the missing woman, check. Passive, amused, detached narrator, check. Off-beat young girl, check. Wells and cats and birds, check. Other/Dream worlds, check. The plot, with its entertaining substories involving man-skinning and zoo-massacreing, meandered a bit too much for me. I was relieved when it ended after 600+ pages. The parts I enjoyed most were those that illuminated the disintegrating relationship between Toru and his wife Kumiko, probably because they dramatized issues I continue to grapple with: How much can two people ever know about each other? How do secrets begin, intentionally or not, and can one undo the damage they cause? How can one cross over into the world that is another human being?

2. My body's been trying to get used to the new office hours -- 6 a.m. to 3 p.m. -- to no avail. I've only been on time TWICE in the past two weeks. Last Tuesday, I woke up at 8 and thought, if I go to work now I'll get there at 10, which is LUNCHTIME, oh fuck it, zzzz.

3. Gusty, rainy days. Shared an umbrella with a crush of mine (see, I knew this bulky gray Fibrella would come in handy!), and walked to the fx station huddled together while talking about old jobs, old lives. Life is made of such sweet, stolen moments.

4. A gem from Carolyn Forche's "Angel of History": Surely all art is a result of one's having been in danger, of having gone through an experience all the way to the end.

5. Had lunch at TOSH with Egay, who regaled me with stories about his (un)welcome houseguest. Had dinner at Yellow Cab with my favorite couple, Mikael and Sigh, who treated me to zombies at Cantina. I love Sundays, my friendship day.

6. I've been obsessing about Toronto these past few days: googling "Toronto+fashion+2006" and its permutations, looking for cheap 2-bedroom apartments on Craig's List and www.viewit.ca, memorizing street names on the map, asking B and my cousin Summer for tips on living there. I can't wait. I'm nearing the point of no return, the brink of a new beginning, and all those other cliches. There's no way to go but forward, in the illusion of my life as having linear direction.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Excited na akong mag-aral uli

Things are moving so quickly now. My visa application's ongoing, I've registered online for 3 classes already, and I've started the grand task of sifting through my accumulated junk, choosing which to store, which to give away, and which to bring with me.

Nakaka-overwhelm ang mga courses, ang dami ko kasing gustong kunin. But aside from my Bibliography class and the writing workhops, I'm only allowed 4 electives. Here are my top 4 choices:

5003HF "The Strong Music of Hard Times": Poetry in the 1930s

The political and economic climate of the 1930s had profound effects on the supposedly insular world of poetry. Increasing interest in communism in Europe and North America, the rise of fascism, the Spanish Civil War, and the extremes of wealth and poverty pressured poets to treat “unpoetic” subjects and to align their work with clearly marked margins on the left or right. In this course, we shall consider how a number of major poets responded to this situation, sometimes by adopting the prescribed alignments, but also by questioning the parameters of political choice, unravelling differences, arguing for more nuanced political and literary responses to the situation, and seeking to shape and reshape the cultural discourse rather than being shaped by it. Authors studied will include Wallace Stevens, Ezra Pound, W. H. Auden, Louis Zukofsky, Marianne Moore, Muriel Rukeyser, and others.

5493HS The Limits of Attention: Pound/Ginsberg, Ashbery/Stein

A course arranged as two diptychs, each with one Modern and one Postmodern writer, and concerned with the commanding theme of attention. How do these writers exploit the reader’s attention and remark upon it, its contemporary limits especially? Encyclopedists all by inclination, the quartet we will read include and hide so much in their writing (and write so much) that the reader’s attention is strained. What is of value and what are the problems with this encyclopaedic impulse? How do these writers differ from each other, and what is their relationship to likeminded writers of the past? Does their work tell us much about how we pay attention when we read? Does it tell us much about how we have attended, and do attend, to ourselves in the world? We will read the writers in the order in which they are listed in the title of the course. In doing so we will cover a significant range of avant-garde American writing of the twentieth century.

5483HF Lillian Hellman and Tennessee Williams: Ethics, Authorship, and the Right to Privacy

This course focuses on ethical, legal, and political aspects of fiction making in the works of Lillian Hellman and Tennessee Williams, two American authors and celebrities, most famous as playwrights but accomplished in diverse genres. Hellman and Williams, in their works and lives, raise issues about lying and truth-telling that can be situated within broader cultural concerns about authenticity and private life. We will historicize and question the validity of the “author function” and reassess the value of the author’s intentions as a meaningful tool of literary criticism. We will study their plays, memoirs, letters, and films, as well as relevant legal documents and recorded conversations that raise questions about public morality and free speech in an age of mass media, economic upheaval and war.

5523HS The Avant-Garde: Theory and Practice
Taken literally, the term “avant-garde” seems simple enough, describing those artists and writers who are “ahead of their time.” Yet its origin as a military term, and its associations with political as well as stylistic radicalism, suggests that the avant-garde has always been as much a social as an aesthetic phenomenon, one peculiar to the twentieth century. We will read theoretical accounts of the avant-garde, from Renato Poggioli to Peter B?rger, which attempt to explain the avant-garde’s origin, social function, and (perhaps) its endpoint. We will take a historical view of two early twentieth-century avant-gardes, Dada and the Harlem Renaissance, to see how they formed a template for later avant-gardes. Finally, we will turn to recent American art and writing, from the New York School to Language poetry, to ask whether a contemporary avant-garde is possible and what it might look like. Authors include Bruce Andrews, Charles Bernstein, John Ashbery, Peter B?rger, Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, Langston Hughes, Steve McCaffery, Frank O’Hara, Marjorie Perloff, Renato Poggioli, Hans Richter, and Gertrude Stein.