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Monday, May third, 2004
Flags in the Dust -- Bayard seems totally dissipated after his grandfather dies. I think this may have been true from the beginning of the book but I was reading with the wrong lenses in my glasses or something; I had seen Bayard as possessed of some depth of character and potential. The moment I really understood Bayard, I think, was during his visit to the MacCallum's place when he undressed to go to sleep and Buddy warned him to wear warmer clothing in bed.
posted morning of May third, 2004: Respond
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Sunday, May second, 2004
We finally got around to watching House of Sand and Fog on tape last night. That is to say -- I did; Ellen was involved getting Sylvia to stop screaming... Not too impressed by the movie. Ben Kingsley's performance was wonderful as was Shohreh Aghdashloo's; Jennifer Connelly was good, Ron Eldard made a good effort at playing a role for which he was fundamentally miscast. The problem as I saw it was that none of the characters was developed as fully as they were in the book -- this may not have been possible, so it could be argued that reading the book spoiled the movie for me. I think the only moment in the film where I felt fully involved with the action on screen was when Massoud was in the hospital, praying for his son's life. Update Sunday evening: Sylvia is quiet this evening (knock wood) and Ellen is taking the opportunity to watch the tape. Update Monday morning: Ellen stopped watching before the climactic scene because she could not take the suspense. (She also had a really hard time with reading the book at this part.) She agreed with me that Ron Eldard was a poor choice for Lester (actually she thought he was a lousy actor).
posted morning of May second, 2004: Respond
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Friday, April 30th, 2004
Lilith has suggested that everyone post a favorite poem today. Here is my contribution to the effort, an early poem by Rilke with my own translation. Der Novembertag
Kalter Herbst vermag den Tag zu knebeln,
seine tausend Jubelstimmen schweigen;
hoch vom Domturm wimmern gar so eigen
Sterbeglocken in Novembernebeln.
Auf den nassen Daechern liegt verschlafen
weisses Dunstlicht; und mit kalten Haenden
greift der Sturm in des Kamines Waenden
eines Totenkarmens Schlussoktaven.
The November Day
Cold autumn can muzzle the day,
silence its thousand jubilating voices;
from the steeple whimper, so peculiar,
death bells in November's mist.
On the wet rooftops lies sleeping
a white fog; and with cold hands
the storm inside the chimney's walls strikes
a death-karma's closing octaves.
posted morning of April 30th, 2004: Respond
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Tuesday, April 27th, 2004
On the web site of the University of Illinois at Chicago, I found an interesting paper, titled Flags in the Dust: A Continuum of Immorality Lost in a Lilac Dream. There does not seem to be any information about the author of the paper except that his first name is Juan. I will try to find out more and post it.
posted afternoon of April 27th, 2004: Respond
➳ More posts about William Faulkner
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Flags in the Dust -- It occurs to me that I may have given the impression in my last post that I think Horace is a con man. Far from it -- he deceives himself probably better than anybody else. The narration around him is written in the same affected manner he uses when speaking; I did not understand what was going on before since the narration is in the third person, but I think now that he is actually narrating -- and maybe that each scene is narrated by the character who is central to it.
posted morning of April 27th, 2004: Respond
➳ More posts about Readings
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Monday, April 26th, 2004
We saw Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind tonight and loved it. (Well I did anyway, I'm not sure if Ellen was quite as enthusiastic about it.)
posted evening of April 26th, 2004: Respond
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Flags in the Dust -- This evening, as I was reading the scene where Horace is visiting Belle, it occurred to me that Horace is a poseur. And with that understanding, everything his character did started to make more sense. The other characters so far seem by and large to be either unreflective or else withdrawn and unsocial; but Horace is extroverted, and busy with self-consciously projecting a façade to the people around him. His fancy language is tiresome and unnecessary, and he knows this on some level; but he keeps it up in order to maintain a consistent false persona. This is his connection with Belle, who is a bit of a faker herself.
posted evening of April 26th, 2004: Respond
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Flags in the Dust -- the Bayard's Wild Ride section seguéd nicely into a chapter dealing with the return of Narcissa's brother Horace. I am having a little trouble with this chapter. Horace doesn't really seem that concrete or believable a character, at least when he is present and speaking. When his time in Europe is presented as a story, it is interesting and fun, and the high-flown language seems playful; but when he is moving around Jefferson and talking to Narcissa, it is just dreary.
posted afternoon of April 26th, 2004: Respond
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Friday, April 23rd, 2004
I just realized Sunday will be my blog-day! How am I holding up in the first year? Well, not too bad -- I am not posting super-frequently but it is holding my interest pretty well. I will keep it up for a while and see what develops.
posted afternoon of April 23rd, 2004: Respond
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Last night and this morning I read the longest (so far) block of narrative in Flags in the Dust -- Bayard's odyssey: beginning on page 119 he takes Simon for a drive, scares him with speed, leaves him to walk home; then goes on to town where he gets drunk with MacCallum, goes to look at the stallion MacCallum is buying, rides the stallion, is thrown, is bandaged by Doc Peabody; then Hub and Suratt drive him out to Hub's place, where they drink more whiskey, and drive back to town; then he drives back to Hub's place with Hub, Mitch, and some Negro musicians, they get the bottle and drive to a city or town (apparently not Jefferson) where the musicians play and Mitch sings; then drive back to Jefferson (with Bayard going very fast and scaring the musicians, and stopping frequently to drink whiskey). The next bit is told centering around Narcissa but belongs in the same narrative block -- she is having dinner with her aunt and telephones Jenny to see if Bayard got home alright, and Jenny tells her he did not come home; when she retires (after receiving a visit from Dr. Alford), Bayard brings the musicians to her yard to serenade her and then they leave. Meanwhile an unidentified stalker (whom I believe to be Snopes) is lying on the roof of her garage, looking through her window. Wow! 50 pages later and still going strong...
posted morning of April 23rd, 2004: Respond
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