I'm a rigid piece of work. I've been scared of basically everything for as long as I can remember and I'm way too sensitive. I think too much, about everything, and anyone else who is like this will know that analysis for its own sake won't bring any peace of mind. Like that classic image of a snake eating its own tail.Read More
Filtering by Tag: Thomas Pynchon
Me the whole time, as innocuous as my few items are, stressing that somehow I’d get caught in some Kafkaesque loophole and have to defend my innocence against a battery of bureaucratic absurdities—Like a dog.Read More
His story becomes a living human parable, populated by impossible creatures and events, such as the ones I've described, illustrating a grander psychological reality. And the idea passes down through history, transforming naturally with the passage of each era and in the translation through each unique artistic voice. The Temptation of Saint Anthony has been immortalized for the past six-hundred years by master painters from every generation, stretching all the way from Bosch to his twentieth century descendants in Dalí, Carrington, and Ernst. Even the Renaissance Master Michelangelo's first painting, when he was just 13 years of age, was a rendition of Schongauer's copper engraving of Saint Anthony. And it's influence of course hasn't been isolated to the world of painting, Gustave Flaubert alone spent the years of his life from the ages of 24 to 53, just 4 years short of his death, drafting and redrafting his novel based on the story. He considered The Temptation of Saint Antony his greatest achievement and, quite literally, his life's work.
And it's in these transformations and mutations down through time that I think the real magic lies; the true fulfillment of Saint Anthony's lifelong journey, his walk across the delerious desert landscape which stretches now endlessly, along with his ultimate triumph, through the infinitude of human expression.Read More
Finally reading Hear the Wind Sing, by Haruki Murakami. His first novel, it's that nifty 2015 edition that collects the first two, Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973. It really has no back or front, because one side of the book is one novel and the opposite the other. Except they're upside-down relative to one another, so 101 pages in, at the end of Hear the Wind, you turn the page and are on the upside-down last page of Pinball. Given Murakami's penchant to flip between worlds, one ordinary and one dream-like, one real and the other imaginary, it's a really inspired little gimmick. Especially because, as his apprentice and journeymen efforts, these are two of his least regarded works and it ties them up into a nice little package for fans and collectors. No mess, no hassle.Read More