I'd very much like to thank each and every one of you, who have taken their time, hopefully not entirely wasted, to read some of the things in here. Deeply appreciate it!
May you enjoy a good time seeing the old year off and be in for an even better one in 2007!
Have your wishes come true!
Would love to have you come back to proto-ymagon one of these days in the new year, so:
See you again and take care!
mo
Just as a new year is about to begin and take us to who knows where it may lead to, I would like you to join me in taking this occasion to briefly give a warm fare-well to our outgoing UN Secretary General, Kofi Annan. And to thank him for his many great services over the years. I for one am deeply appreciative of his unrelenting efforts to yes, indeed: better the world we live in.
Equally, this post shall take the opportunity and hail his successor, UN Secretary General designate Ban Ki-moon from South Korea, and wish him all the best, naturally, for meeting the massive demands his new mandate will undoubtedly confront him with.
There are many tasks ahead for him to master, like fighting HIV/AIDS, poverty, human trafficking, corruption, terrorism, climate-change and all sorts of environmental looming disasters that need to be prevented or at least contained. Then there have to be ever renewed efforts to help and assist in all kinds of calamities, natural disaster and every horrid case of genocide, wherever on the globe they might befall their innocent victims. You name it, this list could go on forever...
And it is just as rightful, as it is necessary, to criticize the UN, in a constructive way i.e., for their shortcomings, for their at times frustratingly blatant ineffectiveness, no need for naive UN-euphoria in my view. Read Romeo Dallaire's eye-opening account “Shake Hands With the Devil” about the UN's tragically failed role in Rwanda in the mid-'90s if you should have any doubts in this respect.
Even so, to put it as frank as Kofi Annan recently did in the man's own words: “...to have a scapegoat is fine, but it won't solve the problem”!
To this day, the idealism incorporated in the UN Charta is standing strong as one of mankind's finest achievements. And it is vital that member states live up to their own, lofty pledges. It is us, the voice of the many, the peoples in their respective countries, who have to take our governments for their words, judge them by their deeds and hold those in power accountable for their actions or inaction.
All this is plain as day, of course – but this is not to say it isn't worth insisting upon, is it not?
Live up to it!
(pic©Bild key/nzz.ch)
This time o'year? Seems just perfect to me for re-viewing one of the most memorable, one of the most inspiring films I've ever seen, probably ever made: Oshima Nagisa's late masterpiece of a samurai genre film, “Gohatto”. This 1999 film, internationally acclaimed and so forth, what is it, really, that makes it stand out in so lasting a fashion despite the fact that it's been emphatically criticized by just equal measure (see Andrew Grossman's angry review here, which makes many valid points but to my taste is steeped in the unreasonable and dangerous assumption that art has to execute some (ill-perceived leftist) agenda; I think “Gohatto” is subversive all right, although in a way quite different from what he seems to have in mind; but then again I may have to admit that my taste in these matters tends to lean toward the reactionary, so looks like we're even here...)?
“Gohatto” is basically a love story, a gay love story set against the backdrop of 19th century Japan, with alternating triangles of love, deception and jealousy among the members of the elite Shinsengumi samurai militia. Excessively, fatally beautiful Kano Sozaburo (convincingly played by my favorite actor Matsuda Ryuhei, which performance won him a Japanese Academy's Newcomer of the Year award) sets loose a chain-reaction of passion rejected and fulfilled, of courting and suspicion among the training warriors. It is his very aura of inflaming sensuality ill-contained, his radiating arrogance so typical of envied youth that compliments his character of cruel, self-serving inertia, which inevitably works to make the members of this school of lofty codes of conduct fall for his charms one by one.
As Kano rejects Toshiro's (Asano Tadanobu) advances and gets involved with fellow samurai Yuzawa Tojiro instead, the entire coaction sure enough leads toward some troublesome boil up, eventually to murder. Captain Hijikata (Beat Takeshi) being in charge of maintaining order in the ranks, sees it forced upon him in the end to intervene and prevent further commotion among his men.
It is a simple yet intoxicating plot, delicately narrated and scrupulously executed by Oshima, mostly by applying red and blue filters to his shots, which serves to give “Gohatto” a very special, almost seductive power all its own. This film is neither a grand style costume opera, nor a mere abstraction of homosexuality and male bonding. No, what I like especially about this one is the thoroughly seen-through atmosphere that, once established, the director maintains to the end, not overplaying his hand to either side, to all-out realism or an encrypted meditation on his theme, but lets carefully hang suspended midair, delicately balanced and intelligently prevented from resolving too much or showing too little. Swordsmanship and a well choreographed sequence of side-stepping, both in fighting, sparring and human relations, this film has a story to tell. And it delivers it in a very convincing, uncompromising and direct fashion, one that leaves no questions unanswered in being all out, in taking gay love for what it is, deep reaching, multifarious and mostly irresolvable like any other array you may happen across in these matters.
To me the film's most outstanding achievement lies in not presenting some grossly stylized rendition of its historical setting, but portraying an era seemingly enchanted by its own spell of outdatedness, of a decadence pure, lucid and credible. “Gohatto” is an elegant chamber-piece adaptation of late Tokugawa Japan, which in my view never gives itself over to cheap lyricism but effectively, suspensefully brings to the silver screen an eerie feeling of self-enclosure, of rigorously, formality-subdued masculinity and latent pressures, some disquieting atmosphere of permeating sexual tensions without being salacious at any point.
And then, there is this grand finale (spoiler!): much discussion has been ongoing as to what exactly Kano may or may not say to Toshiro that bedazzles him in such a way as to allow for the youngster to cut him down in their fight. That Sozaburo says “Forgive me!” is all but established, but what he says after this, the film does not give away - on purpose. My reading however is that it is in fact a fiendishly deceptive confession of love avowed which he gives to Toshiro, understandably catching him off guard.
But there obviously is much more at play here. Just bear in mind the Shinsengumi's oath, never to kill for personal motives, expressly stated at the beginning, and Kano's admission to having joined for obtaining the right to kill, quite a complicated matter indeed. Even more so, when you try to figure out how this peculiar vow Kano refers to when asked by Hijikata as to why he doesn't cut his locks as would be suitable for a grown-up might fit into the equation. Is it he's pledged allegiance with Toshiro after all, something well known from the stories of Ihara Saikaku's “The Way of the Samurai”? And, to further add to the confusion, there is the film's title of course not be neglected, “Gohatto”, more literally translated as “(against) the rule”...
Well, I shall leave it there, for you to decide if it could not be the case that Oshima intends to include rules of aesthetics in this, too. Rules powerfully at work in just about all every-day that ever was or will be, an ironic comment on, as well as a resignation to man's inability to live and perform without subscribing to binding patterns of perception, whose ignorance is unavoidably implicit, just as it is unforgiving in case of being trespassed – and remember the last, the final image he ends this one with!
I reckon “Gohatto” a much more satisfying film than, say, Fassbinder's “Querelle” for example. It may not always be spectacular or original, but its spell certainly works on me! Give it a try if you haven't seen it yet!
proto-ymagon would like to give Romania and Bulgaria a warm and heartfelt “Welcome!” on the occasion of their joining the European Union on January 1st 2007!
Now with the EU newly enlarged to 27 member states, there obviously is quite a lot that needs to be done, improved, to enable its body to function in a proper way that benefits all its members and population.
There is no doubt in my mind that we as Europeans are right now in the very middle of living through and partaking in a process which in itself constitutes a legacy to humankind of truly global import. No trifle matter, but a historic task and exercise in comity. It will not be fulfilled unless it is sought and won every day anew. It won't serve as an ennoblement for any museum's display but remains a constant challenge to an ardent civil self-empowerment, which permanently has to prove itself, transforming our understanding of who we are in the process. Imparting Civilization.
Equally beyond question to me, the concept of Nation state has run its course in this part of the world. A United States of Europe has to be our ultimate aim. But this requires a rooted sense of a European citizenship, first. Civility, profoundly based on all of our European history and its demands, that is what is called for more than ever. Thereupon it will depend, the direction into which our common future is headed, with nothing less than global implications.
With the European Constitution up on the agenda once more under a German EU Presidency in the first half of 2007, we do have a truly historic opportunity to make one decisive step toward the goal of achieving a European statehood. So, let's not waste it! Show some leadership and get us a constitution! This imperative is addressed to no politician (alone), but to every one who feel themselves citizens of Europe.
Here's a newly added “friendly link” to proto-ymagon for all those of you who are seriously interested in all the possible and impossible ways of, and news on independent film making in Singapore: Sinema.sg. This is a handsomely, one feels obliged to say: crafted site, set up and professionally run by folks with a keen awareness of the days demands, focusing on the entire spectrum, really, of what it takes to make it in the business (and to make it a business to Singapore to begin with!). Frankly, I think it the best place on the net to keep yourself informed and up-to-date on all that is going on in the city-state's film industry, which according to some “is in its infancy again”.
So you want to stay abreast of latest developments in this “unfolding story”? You want to check out possible connections and get in touch with real creative and daring and inspiring people? Just have a look - and I'm sure there's something to be found in there for each and everyone of you. As you may have noticed by now, I'm myself very much interested in Singapore specifically (uniquely...) and therefore you'll find references to going-ons over there every now and then here on proto-ymagon. In addition to that, however, you may just as well check out mo's fortnightly column “the torch” on Sinema.sg, which heads off this week. You'll find more on this and all the above mentioned here.
Enjoy! (pic©mo)
(in chronological order)
It’s mostly about winning these days, about understanding and realizing the cutting-edge well before anybody else and placing one’s stakes with whatever promises to yield the most. And this mind-set of the 21st century, when properly viewed, turns out to be in essence nothing but an extension of that late 19th century’s capitalist disposition on into our times. Historically interrupted (if at all) only to be temporarily overshadowed by disastrous aberrations into the land of some unlikely madmen’s Utopia, bordering the barbaric and at times even firmly established therein, this latent yet powerful notion that it is a wildlife’s strife we’re born to live, at times to sport and, even better, to win, has never been restricted to targets of the monetary kind alone.
But there can be no mistaking that a lot needs to be tended to in this world of ours, which affords some other line of reasoning, something to put the notoriously imbalanced competition in order, well, that noble word “justice” may come to mind here – and it would be equally naïve as it would be dangerous to read it in a legalistic sense only. No, I hope you're all with me in acknowledging the simple yet uneasy truth that these are in fact two very different things: law and justice. Just bear in mind, the latter personified, why, you end up with someone blind (no offense)! And I think we agree that what is urgently needed, if hard to implement, is a caring eye instead of a merely observing one, what is missing too often is reason coupled with empathy, the voice and helping hand of human compassion, pathetic as it may sound.
Localization, to begin to understand our global technology-enabled interconnectedness not as a means to escape into some fictitious, virtual “second life” of our choosing, but rather to make the best possible use of these modern tools for organizing, setting up and avalanching into this world your own ideas about how to remedy some ill, you locally observe and suffer, this to me seems like a real promising aspect of www-resources.
So, in short:
Which is the winning, the right strategy, I wonder?
“Think global, act local” – well, that's the terrorists' approach, isn't it?
How about inverting the reasoning in this to the following:
“Think local, act global” ?
Could not this be much closer to achieving the change you want to see come about in your every day surroundings than the former one?
But then again, I may be entirely wrong here...
Waking up one fine October morning (late and well-prepared by equal measure) to news that our great city Berlin is now officially bankrupt, after the Supreme Court's final ruling that it was in effect us and no-one else have to pay for our staggering debts, we as citizens of Germany's capital knew we were in for some changes. And probably not the most pleasant ones, too. This seemed to turn into confirmed fact soon enough, as Klaus Wowereit (Governing Mayor) singlehandedly abolished the post of “Senator for Science, Research and Culture” and announced that forthwith he would simply add these functions to his own office responsibilities, leaving anyone concerned to wonder as to what would become of our city's cultural assets.
When he addressed the “Abgeordnetenhaus von Berlin” (House of Representatives) earlier this week in his new term's general speech outlining government policies, there were however some reassuring remarks prominently made, which could, if followed through in actual fact, i.e. decision making, allow for some healthy development of our city's most valuable resources. You'll find the complete text as it stands on official record in German, Teil 1 hier, Teil 2 hier – but I want to give you the integral passages thereof, those of special interest to me in this context, in as good a translation as I can provide:
"The so-called “creative industries“ such as music, film and media, including fashion, design and literature as well as photography, have developed into a vital factor within Berlin’s economy. Berlin in all its contrariness, its history, its constant changes and the feeling of “breaking new ground” almost tangible in many places, offers lots of inspiration. An ever increasing number of creative minds and promising talents come to Berlin in order to seek out new possibilities, to get involved. The cultural industry, made up by more than 80% of enterprises with a staff of less than three, is one of the most dynamic yet at the same time one of the most volatile sectors. Any foresighted policy has to advertently keep track of these developments to effectively utilize new possibilities. In setting up the “media board”, we have built an outstanding means to furthering and connecting the media industry. Because this senate is fully aware of the “creative industries” key position, we will further develop interconnectedness and the establishing of value-added chains fur additional areas of the creative economy, too.
[...] Internationalism and Cosmopolitanism are central characteristics, adding value to our city. Berlin is a city of immigration. We want to rise to the opportunities that Berlin's internationality provides.”
So, let's see what comes of all this political poetry and ensure that it will not turn out to be nothing more than just your usual adorning rhetoric, by keeping watch. I think Berlin is worth our efforts!
Singapore’s leading director and TIME Asia's officially designated “Asian Hero“ of 2004, Royston Tan is very busy indeed these days, ever further building his record into some amazing success story.
Not only did “4:30”, easily one of the best films ever made by my reckoning, win the NETPAC award at this year’s Hawaii International Film Festival earlier in October, it now also secured victory in both, the Asian Film Festival in Rome for best film, and at the 8th International Film Festival Bratislava (Slovakia), there too winning the "Grand Prix for the Best Film".
Now, whilst talks are ongoing to have Royston bring this film and some of his other, more recent works to festivals in Europe next year, including Germany (details will be given here as they become available), the stage is already set for the singular screening of his 35 min. documentary “Sin Sai Hong”. This one is about the eponymous Chinese theatre troupe from Singapore and will be shown to a sell-out audience at Singapore National Museum, December 17th.
Meanwhile, to heighten expectations with his devoted following, Royston Tan will give a press conference shortly to unveil details of his next feature film project, “132”.
To get all the confirmed information about this one and all the rest, it’d be best you had a look at the one most reliable source of Tan-stuff and goings-on, the flawlessly tended (and a proudly presented “friendly link” to proto-ymagon, at that) royston-tan.blogspot, here, to finally end all speculation…
As you see, come 2007 there’s a lot in store from this, my favourite director. I’ll keep you updated, for sure!
(pic©AFP/File Roslan Rahman)
Last weekend I attended the TV recording of another episode of “Literatur im Foyer”, this time with German author Alexander Kluge and sociologist Oskar Negt presenting and being interviewed on their latest books. As it turned out this was a real disappointment, an excessively dull and sorry event, which I tried my best to get at the bottom of over the course of the following days. Not that both these venerable men in their 70s had nothing profound to say, or that they were lackluster in giving their respective opinions and worthy insights, they sure lived up to any such expectations. To me it was rather the absence of something else, something that was disturbingly missing in their statements and which I was irritatingly unable to put a name to at first.
Thinking back over the discourse as it ran, I now have come to understand that what struck me as just so odd, was the acute impression that whatever they had to say, or however intelligently crafted their lines of argumentation were, they didn't seem to be working on their issues any more. For all I could tell, they figured they had come to the full of their scope of possible conclusions in writing about the human condition and affairs of grappling with the consequences of today's globalized capitalist economy and the strains and pressures that exerts and puts us under. There was something strangely but decidedly “dead” about all their efforts, more like a final word of assertion, than an inspiring fresh take on an old problem.
I'm not sure if you can follow me in this, but I would very much like to spare you any of the obsolete details and give you my preliminary conclusion to this episode instead:
I think it is right and necessary to try make a point about something in any piece of meaningful writing. But for any text to qualify as literature, something more than just one idea or point of reference is needed. There simply has to be a certain degree of ineradicable wonder, unresolved mystery and resonating amazement going along with it. If you think you know all there is to know about your topic, if you feel like you have asked all the questions and everything has revealed itself to you in plain, lucid disclosure, well, you probably shouldn't be writing about it. At least not fiction, I reckon. In my opinion, there is no point in writing fictionally about something you fully understand, or is there?
“Make it all up. Go home and write whatever you want and then send it out on the wires. Make it up. Whatever you write will be true."
(Don DeLillo, End Zone (1973))
I guess there are all possible sorts of wasting one's time (and some impossible ones, too), just so many of them in fact, like there are people with no serious business of their own to concern themselves with. After all, everybody is being foolish in their own way, are they not?
So here is mine, you might call it: diversion, or a means to kill off whatever excess of time with nothing better to do calls for it. I've discovered that watching snooker on TV serves this purpose extremely well for me!
Now, how can it get any more boring than that, you may ask – and rightfully so. To clear things up, let me try to explain to you as best I can and short as seems appropriate, as to what charm exactly this “Billiard Royale” holds in store for the keen observer.
Why, odd as it may seem, boring as it may sound, it is literally all in there, the psychological implications, the suspense, the story(break)building, the abstraction, the professionalism, the drama; you can actually learn quite a lot from watching strategic minds unfold, at times, unravel under pressure. Snooker is a mind game, it is about strategy, will-power and concentration maintained over as much as three hours on stretch, when it comes to that.
It is also about precision, but not in so mathematical a sense as not to allow for a window of pure chance, opening up from time to time. It's like chess – only different!
Speaking of the well-mannered folks who professionally play the game, snooker appeals to me as a figurative, a playful exercise in civility, with a strict code of decorum and sportsmanship esteemed more highly than the sheer competition itself, and rigorously upheld even when it is most cruel. That certainly ennobles it a lot.
But there is one other thing that's even more interesting to me and that has all to do with those reds and colored balls themselves. To me this is somehow, strangely reminding of late 18th century chemistry, where with pre-modern methods and half scientific, half doctrinaire methods of empirical wisdom the elements were deemed to “marry” each other off, and produce all kinds of miraculous, sometimes incalculable offspring.
OK, I admit that this may appear like some very, very far-fetched personal reverie of mine, and sure it is. But then again, try it out for yourselves, if you will, and see whether you can begin to read the game as I do, as a perfect and delicate abstraction of whatever plot you may fancy. Look at the ever singular arrangement of the balls on that table, the history of how that picture came about, of how we got to where we are at any given instant, the options how it may or may not further develop from here. And then the personal drama inside the players' minds that make them go for either the more aggressive or the defensive shot. To me this is at times just as enervating, as intriguing to watch as any drama you may think of. And it actually helps you to formulate your own story-lines if you happen to work in this field, for in almost every game you will definitely encounter patterns of a basic, an archetypical nature.
I shall leave it at that and simply resign myself to recommend giving it a try and watching the game to your pleasure! In case you are not familiar with the rules, simply go here and get a quick introductory course of it. Enjoy! (pic©desideria.twoday.net)
On occasion of the Berlinale International Film Festival of 2004 I happened to see a very insightful first-time directors' documentary about the current state of affairs in contemporary independent Chinese film making by the title “My Camera Doesn't Lie”. Conspicuous enough as this title is in itself even for a documentary, it nevertheless provided some revelatory hints at to what it takes to make a film without any kind of institutional, of state backing in present-day China, to realize some piece of work dedicated to the essence of film, to making a valid, if personal statement about life instead of money foremost on your mind, to capture above all else means and methods, ways of getting-by and through the day, taking in and chronicling the variety of looks our shared condition, predicament to some, of being alive may come to take on, and shooting it raw as much as it is real.
This also marked my first taking note of director Zhang-Ke Jia and his works, which I have come to love ever since.
By such masterful films like “Xiao Wu”, “Platform” or most recently “Still Life”, which I yet haven't had the luck to see, he has made a name for himself as a particularly “honest” director, someone who points an incorruptible camera at the margins, which in Chinese society as much as in any other, like a crumpled blanket's numerous folds and crevices, make up a quite considerable part of the entire width of its span in plain actuality.
The issue of objectivity incorporated through and into any one film thus raised, I would still very much like to hold fast to my doubts about precisely how much truth can possibly be found in such a claim - one, which as far as I know, the director himself has never made.
There are some fundamental implications to such a reading of the term “reality”, which I personally do not want to buy into, or expand upon here.
But it is totally legitimate nonetheless to attribute a very clearly defined quality of a life-as-it-is approach to Zhang-Ke's spellbinding films.
For one, there is the grimness of his settings, his films' locations and protagonists' environs which offer a striking and welcomed contrast to your average polished and prettified production. It is there, where most of the imagery strength in “Xiao Wu” or “Unknown Pleasures” comes from. And these are no sets in any studio meaning of that word, but found and carefully chosen conditions, real places - or documents if you will, of a world in transition and all the dilemma this implies.
Zhang Yimou sure was very good; and now he will stage the 2008 Summer Olympics' opening ceremony in Beijing. But speaking of Zhang-Ke Jia's films, they are genre films in a way, of the “hapless guy falls for ambitious girl” type, your provincial drama with its inevitable in-for disappointment, heart grinding, bottom-line rationale. And with his films all of this sure comes along with a refreshing graininess applied, lacking any all-out pathetic climaxes, but rather like water, always, reliably so, flowing towards the lowest point, it just couldn't be otherwise. Or is there in the end some way out of the mire, some way of withstanding the forces of nature, which when it comes to young folk's emotional inconsistency would amount to something like building the house of your dreams on quicksand, with gravity forever prevailing? In his own, very eloquent way Zhang-Ke shows just that. And for this one reason alone it is that he doesn't need any kind of sophisticated resolution to his narratives: that he didn't really make them up in the first place, but let them evolve in the most minor key of stylization thinkable, expressly performed instead of well-scripted – or so it seems. Of course they are set up and written, but a film like “Xiao Wu” for example at no point betrays its original theme as the plot is never allowed any lofty flight of the director's imagination but the cinematograph tightness stays focused throughout.
What distinguishes his films from most of contemporary Asian productions, is the unpretentious simplicity, or clarity of his pictures, each frame challenging its own composition exactly because it is so self-effacing, you'll hardly notice there is any of it in them at all. And what makes his films so dear to me, is that this special quality (I wouldn't want to call it “style”) fittingly corresponds with the portrayed fragility of the human encounter, the bas-relief his story-telling presents, the charm and raw spell of carving, like he does, reality hardships and harshness into the astonishingly soft surface of the neediness and vanity that always have been, and forever will be, main components in man's struggle to survive - and with dignity.
Certainly Zhang-Ke Jia confronts present-day China, already half-believing in the glossiness of its own, self-projected image, with the reality of a hinterland pretty much unchanged.
But any political comment he offers in doing so, as much as it certainly figures strongly in his films, to me takes the backseat to the unique insights he provides into our basic human psyche and its many strange, yet simple twists. Zhang-Ke in “Unknown Pleasures” convincingly brings impotence to the screen, real or felt, maybe learned the hard way and close to impossible to extricate oneself from, for abandoning it, if one did so, would equal the letting go of all one's last defences against an unfavorable, even hostile surrounding. After all, resignation as a last resort still bears some hallmarks of an act of free will, does it not? That's why it seems so appealing at certain times, a real lure. Thus we come to read hope as a spell, poisonous alright, but for better or worse, who could tell?
I think you could call this a second, or higher truth or “reality” which is embodied in his works, a reality that it would be virtually impossible to achieve, if it wasn't for the director's principal and unrelenting love and sympathy for his characters. And believe it or not, most of them are in fact: real...
And finally, this for anyone who might have gotten interested in this brilliant Chinese director's films, here is additional news as to what he is up to in the near future:
Shooting is currently underway of his next full-length feature film, “Ciqing shidai” (“The Age of Tattoo”), scheduled for release within the first half of 2007. Allegedly this drama centers on a band of street kids during the final years of the so-called “Cultural Revolution” and, most intriguing to me, is based on a novel by no other than Su Tong (“Raise the Red Lantern”, “Rice”)!
So, there seems every reason to expect some precious blend of down-to-earth credibility and grand story-telling – sounds miraculous to me. (source: IMDb)
News just in that Cineasia #6 , originally scheduled to take place December 7th - 10th 2006 in Cologne, will now be held March 28th to April 1st 2007.
Rescheduling of this much-anticipated festival includes the Filmforum NRW at Museum Ludwig as new venue, with additional funding in support of the Cineasia Film Festival being generously provided for by the Filmstiftung Nordrhein-Westfalen.
All indications are that there will once more be a quite hand-picked selection of films from all over Asia to be enjoyed by the "discerning few". Hopefully - and I for one certainly keep my fingers crossed - there will be a solid representation of Singapore Film, as well. You'll find further details as to exact programming and so forth on proto-ymgon.blogspot, as they become available. Stay tuned!
“Good fortune is a prodigy whose occasion one must rise to.”
(Shirley Hazzard, The Great Fire (2004))
For anyone living in Berlin or happening to be around at the time, here is the programme of this month's screenings of the Japan Film-AG, including Imamura Shohei's classic "Black Rain" as a highlight.
Catch it if you can!
(pic©hu-berlin.de)
Here's my keeping track of this landmark reading experience I'm currently embarked on in dedicating a whole lot of my time to that new novel by Thomas R. Pynchon, “Against The Day” - and enjoying it, in fact. As I've promised previously, I shall try my best in getting together something that may not exactly fit to the word “review” but will give you perhaps some idea what this massive volume is about, if it actually lives up to expectations and what to me seems most deserving of further attention in it. The result will be as much a review-in-progress as taking on ATD is in itself a process, first and foremost, something transitory and tentative by the very nature of his writing, and just as much so as such an approach is respectful of my own limited capacity in terms of “understanding”. Which is fair enough.
Now, this comes as I've finished through with the books first part, “The Light Over the Ranges” and will therefore give nothing more than a first, and not necessarily correct, juggling into place of some of the works prevalent accords as they present themselves by way of this introductory first part.
Setting out to read any big Pynchon, and certainly this one, requires some truly giantific mind-set to begin with. Don't let yourself be scared off by the well known truism that any Pynchon is difficult to read. Sure it is, but dictionary at hand and one eye on the extremely useful Pynchon Wiki (which is another friendly link to proto-ymagon and you'll get there here) will help you along - and open up the manifold riches of this novel's delicately woven texture for you.
We start out with being introduced to the “Chums of Chance”, the semi-fictional crew of the airship “The Inconvenience” at the site of the Chicago World Fair in 1893. Commander Randolph St. Cosmo, Lindsey Noseworth, Miles Blundell, Chick Counterfly and Darby Suckling, plus the erudite, sentient dog Pugnax, whom you might take for an offspring of that legendary LED from “Mason & Dixon”, enter the White City for providing surveillance services to the terror-threatened exhibition, as well as taking us (and some additional passengers) from here on up into the text. In the course of their perambulations about the fair on their ground-leave, we encounter any variety of curious personages and some of the core characters. Among these there is one Merle Rideout, a photographer who single-handedly raised his daughter Dahlia virtually all across the West's (not-so) pastoral landscape, after his wife Erlys ran off with famed magician Zombini the Mysterious. As is detective Lew Basnight, who on the occasion of Austro-Hungarian K&K Crown-Prince Franz-Ferdinand's visit to the exhibition is assigned the task of looking after him and who later, being in the private investigation sector while at the same time gradually growing sympathetic to the anarchists' movement of the day, gets aboard the Chum's airship.
In following the life trail of Merle Rideout over the years up to 1900, we run into Webb Traverse, a hard-working, exploited miner turned anarchist, who carries out bomb-raids on the hated plutocracy's infrastructure and sadly, but typically gets ever more estranged to his own family and kin during the process of living this double-life.
His son Kit however gets taken in as one of Dr.Tesla's boys and thus assigned to one of this Serb electro-magnetician's spectacular high-voltage experiments, the latest of which, and as of yet only rumored about, looms so promising-threateningly large on the day's horizon in aiming at establishing a world-wide system of free power, as to trigger a dubiously funded planetary counter-operation, to be spear-headed by Professor Vanderjuice, whom the Chums happen to know from previous assignments and run into at the before-mentioned World Fair.
Major themes that in ever changing guises run all through ATD's labyrinthine composition of meta-frames, sub- and embedded sub-sub-plots are, of course, the entire range of various gradations of science-magic, the ominous in its often-times all to common manifestations of your everyday capitalist statehood, the ambivalent and prone-to-conflict relationship between mainstream society and its fringes, the marginal, the outcasts and the suspicious, redeeming loner, and, certainly neither last nor least, the never-ending, doubly refracted love-hate condition of power versus terror, order versus anarchy, the known versus the imponderable and paranoia's many doomed agents.
So far two characteristics of ATD strike me as particularly worthy of acknowledgment, namely the excessive, at times exuberant beauty (and also languor) of his writing, which I suspect has further developed and taken on additional layers of refinement since Pynchon's last novel, certainly since “Gravity's Rainbow”. And secondly, and not especially typical of Pynchon, there is some marvelously intense, real character building in here, particularly where he relates Webb's trials and tribulations, his convincingly plain yet endearing life-story.
And on top of this, you'll find plenty of that very special Pynchon brand of writing humor. For nothing more than just one small example thereof, he offers you what in my estimation is surely the best in practical wisdom: “You can't de-roast a turkey, or unmix a failed sauce...” - the best that is, since DeLillo proclaimed that “you can't dig half a hole”!
He is his old hilarious self, he is. And this is only one reason why ATD makes for such an amazing, rewarding if not outright revealing read.
I'll move on from here and shall come back with more, soon.
