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"[...]a vessel cleaving the dungeon of the waves[...]"
You're Love in the Time of Cholera!
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by
sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give
consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the
one hand, you've loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions
barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff
could get you killed.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Never miss a word
You're Infinite Jest!
by David Foster Wallace
While you1 consider yourself2 to be clever,
there are those3 who think you're just full of yourself or, perhaps worse,
playing a joke4 on everyone around you, and yet you are pretty sure that
you really are that brilliant after all, since people would hardly take the time to
get to know you5 if they didn't care very deeply about what you had to
say to them, to wit, about their lives, their hopes, their dreams, their fears, their
drug habits, and of course what videos6 they prefer to watch, since,
after all, your impressive vocabulary and tendency to go on and on7 makes
you seem superior, able to educate them, and really drive a sense of something
ineffable into their measly little skulls while you are not above making a cheap
gag or really going after anyone or anything or telling them about incredible
futures involving tennis, geopolitics, and
1Meaning you personally, not someone like you or your own
personal daddy, for example.
2As well as you can see yourself, which, frankly, may not be that well.
3Though we wouldn't deign to be so peripatetic as to name them here, mind.
4Jokes, though not common in Victorian England, were known to originate
sometime in ancient history, perhaps as early as the time of Babylon, or even before.
It is thought that the history of the joke plays an integral role in the mindset of
the characters depicted here, though you may disagree at this point, in which case I
am facing quite the dilemma in relaying this narrative, no?
5It is rather time consuming, after all.
6Ha!
7and on and on and on...
Take the Book Quiz II
at the Blue Pyramid.
You're The Metamorphosis!
by Franz Kafka
Though you think you're in the midst of a dream, the fact of the
matter is that your life has become a nightmare. The nightmare at first seems
horrific to you, but you are slowly able to adjust to the facts of the matter
and settle down and make do with what you've been given. There are those that
would say you're pointless and absurd, but you're really just trying to
demonstrate that people can (and do) adapt to anything, no matter how absurd
it is. Not that this will really inspire them to change, because they probably
don't understand.
Take the Book Quiz II
at the Blue Pyramid.
About Me
- Σφιγξ
- possesses wholly unmerited academic pretensions; examines love as an entomologist; collects haunted dollshouses; notes the lunar phase as regularly as the temperature; peruses field guides; reads like a serial magazine subscriptionist; functions through coffee and "mood" music; draws to the very corners of the page; takes notes on unlined paper; reads poetry as prayer; observes textual authority with the incredulity of fiction; suppresses the smart-ass answer(s); adapts as well as anyone beseiged by her own bibelots; she is a sensation seeker in spite of all of this.
16 comments:
Bonsai
By JANE HIRSCHFIELD
One morning beginning to notice
which thoughts pull the spirit out of the body, which return it.
How quietly the abandoned body keens,
like a bonsai maple surrounded by her dropped leaves.
Rain or objects call the forgotten back,
The droplets' placid girth and weight. The table's lack of ambition.
How strange it is that longing, too, becomes a small green bud,
thickening the vacant branch-length in early March.
Je n'ai pas peur de la route
Faudra voir, faut qu'on y goute
Des mandres au creux des reins
Et tout ira bien
Le vent l'emportera
Ton message la grande ourse
Et la trajectoire de la course
A l'instantan de velours
Meme s'il ne sert rien
Le vent l'emportera
Tout disparatra mais
Le vent nous portera
La caresse et la mitraille
Et cette plaie qui nous tiraille
Le palais des autres jours
D'hier et demain
Le vent les portera
Gnetique en bandouillre
Des chromosomes dans l'atmosphre
Des taxis pour les galaxies
Et mon tapis volant lui
Le vent l'emportera
Tout disparatra mais
Le vent nous portera
Ces parfums de nos annes mortes
Ceux qui peuvent frapper ta porte
Infinit des destins
On en pose un, et qu'est-ce qu'on en retient ?
Le vent l'emportera
Pendant que la mare monte
Et que chacun refait ses comptes
J'emmne au creux de mon ombre
Des poussires de toi
Le vent l'emportera
Tout disparatra mais
Le vent nous portera
goutte*
http://fr.thefreedictionary.com/goutte
2009: la ponctuation ne marquait pas les endroits de respire.
...ni les signes diacritiques.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B3DfyJRIT4jyY0lnLXkzd0RkQlE/edit?usp=sharing
http://books.google.com/books?id=CPLuPPHNptgC&pg=PA44&dq=Hugo+Dieu+tombe+goutte&hl=en&output=html_text&sa=X&ei=NKjlU_CHJZTfoATl14C4Dw&ved=0CEQQ6AEwBw
http://www.firstthings.com/blogs/leithart/2012/03/mark-it-with-a-t
http://www.frieze.com/issue/article/picture-piece-jacob-and-the-angel/
http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/hepworth-genesis-p06253
I confess, I bought the collection after seeing the magnified cover of Quiringh van Brekelenham's painting, which is a window. I found the tear away calendar right where I left it, with this as Jane Hirshfield's facing page.
"IT IS NIGHT. IT IS VERY DARK."
Rainfall past any interrogation.
Questions and answers are not the business of rain.
Yet I step forward by them—
Left foot? Yes. Right foot? Yes.
And all the time wanting to soaked through,
as the flowers of the apricot that open too early,
in mid-December,
are soaked all the way through their slow petals but do not fall.
The colors only slightly deepen.
The fruit has far to travel.
Left foot by right foot under the hidden stars.
And I?
Unfolded question by question,
like an elephant trained to paint what is in her heart.
Yes, I want to imagine a future flyover in Coventry Cathedral, again, by consciousnesses that lack the ecclesiastic use of Epstein's Angel, Coper's singed candlesticks, and Graham Sutherland's tapestry.
http://www.historiccoventry.co.uk/cathedrals/st-michael-devil.php
http://www.historiccoventry.co.uk/cathedrals/baptistery.php
http://www.theguardian.com/world/2009/oct/09/coventry-blitz-hitler-revenge
Yes, I was just remarking on a photograph outside of Coventry Cathedral, of Epstein's Michael, in the car.* I always bring a book. It has a unique cover, like a palette, and I checked it out of the library as something I would read if I was a young learner; it has short bios and not very representative works.
http://www.dk.com/us/9781465436610-art/
From Exercise 58, I am not taking it as a forethought, but rather the kite was a memory in my recent recollections of late-December. Both passages contain the punctum, for me. The kite peels up the decal of aleph.
https://books.google.com/books?id=Ny-OAwAAQBAJ&lpg=PT37&dq=A%20Christmas%20Memory%20%22kite%22&pg=PT37#v=onepage&q=A%20Christmas%20Memory%20%22kite%22&f=false
https://books.google.com/books?id=R7fQBQAAQBAJ&lpg=PA80&dq=Carol%2C%20or%20The%20Price%20of%20Salt%20%22kite%22&pg=PA81#v=onepage&q=Carol,%20or%20The%20Price%20of%20Salt%20%22kite%22&f=false
https://1drv.ms/i/s!AsA4BY25Ql_1iRRI0TExkkeIhnnu
https://1drv.ms/i/s!AsA4BY25Ql_1jFk895_zxELr8YTY
https://books.google.com/books?id=bSVpNtgdIrUC&lpg=PT96&dq=Lambspring%20stag%20unicorn&pg=PT96#v=onepage&q=Lambspring%20stag%20unicorn&f=false
https://www.newyorker.com/news/afterword/the-deer-who-lived-upstairs
https://www.newyorker.com/cartoon/a25190
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