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Wednesday, July 28th, 2010
Starting to really get my music library together -- I ripped a lot of old and new disks onto my computer this past week, and updated the file organization a little. Today's random 10 are a nice mellow mix.
- "The $1 Store" sketch by The Vestibules -- a very worthwhile Canadian humor troupe. (from their Chest of Drawers 5.0 record.)
- "Who by Fire", from New Skins for the Old Ceremony
- "Where I Lead Me" by Steve Earle. Ellen and I went to a concert of his last weekend that I've been meaning to blog about (can't quite find the hook though) -- I bought his record Townes.
- "Garden of Eden" by the New Riders. They have a lot of good songs besides "Panama Red" -- which for some reason is the only song I really think of when I hear their name.
- "Devil's Radio" from Robyn's April 96 Bilbao show. Which contrary to my assertion at cleek's, definitely does move me in this incarnation.
- "Night Fishin'" by Bobby Rush, from one of Apostropher's mix tapes. One of the things I discovered while organizing my library is that a slight plurality of my non-Robyn Hitchcock music is mix tapes from various blogging sources.
- "A Day in the Life", Robyn Hitchcock performing on the Give it to the Thoth Boys tape. One of the best Beatles covers I've heard of his -- this comes close to being as great as the original. (Though it gets a little silly toward the end.)
- "Pins and Needles in my Heart", the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.
- "Tubular Belgians in my Goldfield", Departure Lounge (featuring both Captain Keegan and Robyn!)
- "Blue Lake", Bill Gessner
posted evening of July 28th, 2010: 1 response
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Tuesday, July 27th, 2010
 Wow, it seems like all of my favorite young novelists are releasing new books all of a sudden! Today I come to find out (via NPR's The Takeaway) that Gary Shteyngart has a new book coming out, set in a near-future dystopia in NYC. Here is his interview from this morning:
On Friday, Shteyngart's release party is happening at Greenlight Bookstore in Fort Greene. I am trying to figure out if I can make it over there...
posted evening of July 27th, 2010: Respond
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Saturday, July 24th, 2010
Gareth Hinds' graphic novel* of King Lear is a fine accomplishment; I recommend it. I see among his other works are The Merchant of Venice and Beowulf -- both look pretty intriguing -- and a forthcoming edition of The Odyssey -- which I am hard put not to find implausible. (But who knows! The cover certainly looks beautiful.)
 * It seems to me like Shakespeare -- and plays in general -- are uniquely well suited to the graphic novel format; and yet I think this is the first time I have read a graphic novel based on a play. Conceptually, this book has much in common with a staged production of the play.
posted morning of July 24th, 2010: Respond
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Tuesday, July 20th, 2010
Driving to pick up his son, Bennie alternated between the Sleepers and the Dead Kennedys, San Francisco bands he'd grown up with. He listened for muddiness, the sense of musicians playing actual instruments in an actual room. Nowadays that quality (if it existed at all) was usually an effect of analogue signaling rather than bona fide tape -- everything was an effect in the bloodless constructions Bennie and his peers were churning out.
I finally picked up Jennifer Egan's new book today -- am finding the first few chapters pleasant and stimulating without them exactly grabbing me the way The Keep and Look at Me did. Definitely interesting enough to keep me reading.
 ...And, by the end of Chapter 4 I realize I am completely hooked in. A glorious, hypnotic read.
posted evening of July 20th, 2010: Respond
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Sunday, July 18th, 2010
...truth, whose mother is history, rival of time, depository of deeds, witness of the past, exemplar and adviser to the present, and the future's counselor.
This catalog of attributes, written in the seventeenth century, and written by the "ingenious layman" Miguel de Cervantes, is mere rhetorical praise of history.-- "Pierre Menard, author of the Quixote" (Hurley's translation)
It was not until I was reading the Quixote this evening and happened on the quoted line (near the end of the ninth chapter) that I realized it is not a mere rhetorical flourish, that Borges is calling attention to the line for his own reasons. (Still not exactly sure what those reasons are...; but the line comes at the end of bit of meta-storytelling that sounds to my ear very Borgesian, about the discovery and translation of Benengeli's history. When I'm reading it now it sounds like Cervantes is being ironic about the truth-value of his story.)
posted evening of July 18th, 2010: 4 responses
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Here I am playing with The Lost Souls last week at the South Orange Elks' Club. (Thanks for the picture, dad!) Mike and Eric are to my left, Jon is behind me; other members are cropped or obscured.
posted afternoon of July 18th, 2010: Respond
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Saturday, July 17th, 2010
Two wonderful videos from cyriak. (Thanks, cleek!)
posted morning of July 17th, 2010: Respond
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Friday, July 16th, 2010
Andrew of The Great Whatsit has been living in Red Hook for a year, and in that time has taken some lovely pictures of the sun setting over the harbor.
posted afternoon of July 16th, 2010: Respond
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Wednesday, July 14th, 2010
I've started reading Richard Slotkin's Regeneration through violence with the idea that I might be able to draw some parallels between his narrative of myth formation and Borges' stories... In service of that end, here is a passage from "Narrative of the Warrior and the Captive Maiden" (from The Aleph) and one from Slotkin's book.
John Williams' narrative, The Redeemed Captive, taught that the ultimate salvation of the soul itself was really at stake in the trial by captivity. One of Williams' daughters, who was very young when captured, could not be won from her captors in time for repatriation with her father. The result was typical of the fate of many captives: she forgot her language and her catechism and became at once a papist and a pagan savage, married to an Indian. Despite the efforts of her father and her family to bring her back, she refused all opportunities to resume her former life. On one occasion she returned to the neighborhood of her birthplace (Deerfield, MA) dressed as an Indian. Her friends clothed her in the English fashion and sent her to meeting, but she "indignantly threw off her clothes in the afternoon, and resumed the Indian blanket." By her own declaration she preferred the Indian way of life. ...she declared that she would never move again from Canada to New England because to do so would "endanger her soul."
Her visit occurred in 1740-41 at the height of the Great Awakening, and her presence in the congregation had been the occasion for "A Sermon Preached at Mansfield, August 4, 1741, at a Time set apart for Prayer for the Revival of Religion," by Pastor Solomon Williams. It was perhaps Williams' attempt to use her as an example of God's delivering a soul from bondage to the devil that made her afraid of "losing" in New England the "soul" she had developed in thirty-eight years of captivity.
-- Chapter 4, "Israel in Babylon"
Perhaps for one instant the two women saw that they were sisters; they were far from their beloved island in an incredible land. My grandmother, enunciating carefully, asked some question or other; the other woman replied haltingly, searching for the words and then repeating them, as though astonished at the old taste of them. It must have been fifteen years since she'd spoken her native language, and it was not easy to recover it. She said she was from Yorkshire, that her parents had emigrated out to Buenos Aires, that she had lost them in an Indian raid, that she had been carried off by the Indians, and that now she was the wife of a minor chieftain -- she'd given him two sons; he was very brave. She said all this little by little, in a clumsy sort of English interlarded with words from the Auracan or Pampas tongue, and behind the tale one caught glimpses of a savage and uncouth life... An Englishwoman, reduced to such barbarism! Moved by outrage and pity, my grandmother urged her not to go back. She swore to help her, swore to rescue her children. The other woman answered that she was happy, and she returned that night to the desert.
--"The Warrior and the Captive Maiden" (Hurley's translation)
 Further reading -- The Redeemed Captive; Narrative of the Captivity of Mary Rowlandson
posted evening of July 14th, 2010: Respond
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 Harvey Pekar passed away on Monday at the age of 70. I'm sorry he is gone; loved to read his comix. I was never a fan, exactly -- I think I only own one collection of American Splendor, plus The Quitter -- it was always something I read at somebody else's recommendation. Still, worth noting his passing, and pointing out some particularly good memorial writing I've seen around the blogosphere this week:
 Another artist who died on Monday (at the age of 86), who did not get as much attention in the subset of blogs that I read but whom I am in mourning for as well, is Tuli Kupferberg of the Fugs. Albert Amateau has written his obituary at The Villager; more write-ups and more links at The Allen Ginsberg Project. (And a fine remembrance of Tuli from Mary Lyn Maiscott at Vanity Fair.) A memorial service for Tuli will be held at St. Mark's church on Saturday, from 12-3 pm, with a reception to follow. There will be no religious element to the service, and Coby, Steve and Ed of the Fugs will be the main speakers. Afterwards, anyone who wants to can talk, sing, recite poetry, or whatever they like.
posted evening of July 14th, 2010: Respond
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