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Saturday, December 13th, 2008
Over at the Fifth World they are talking about Hermann Hesse. I was reminded of how when I started reading Das Glasperlenspiel (about 13 years back or so; never finished or even got very far in), I took the narrator's attack (or what I perceived as an attack) on Crossword Puzzles very personally.  I was doing the NY Times crossword every day at the time and reading this felt like being lectured about what a waste of time and consciousness it was: Übrigens gehörten, so scheint es, zum Feuilleton auch gewisse Spiele, zu welchen die Leserschaft selbst angeregt und durch welche ihre Überfütterung mit Wissenstoff aktiviert wurde, eine lange Anmerkung von Ziegenhalß über das wunderliche Thema »Kreuzworträtsel« berichtet davon. Es saßen damals Tausende und Tausende von Menschen, welche zum größern Teil schwere Arbeit taten und ein scweres Leben lebten, in ihre freistunden über Quadrate und Kreuze aus Buchstaben gebückt, deren Lücken sie nach gewissen Spielregeln ausfüllten. Wir wollen uns hüten, bloß den lächerlichen oder verrückten Aspekt davon zu sehen, und wollen uns des Spottes darüber enthalten. Jene Menschen mit ihren Kinder-Rätselspielen und ihren Bildungsaufsätzen waren nämlich keineswegs harmlose Kinder oder spielerische Phäaken, sie saßen vielmehr angstvoll inmitten politischer, wirtschaftlicher und moralischer Gärungen und Erdbeben, haben eine Anzahl von schauerliche Kriegen und Bürgerkriegen geführt, und ihre kleinen Bildungsspiele waren nicht bloß holde sinnlose Kinderei, sondern entsprachen einem tiefen Bedürfnis, die Augen zu schließen und sich vor ungelösten Problemen und angstvollen Untergangsahnungen in eine möglichst harmlose Scheinwelt zu flüchten.
(Approximately:)
In addition to the feuilleton it seems as if there were certain games, which the reading public loved and through which the information overload was started, a long communication from Ziegenhalß about the wonderful idea of crossword-puzzle deals with this. There sat at this time thousands and thousands of people, for the most part hard-working people with hard lives, bent over quadrants and crosses of characters in their free time, filling in their blanks according to certain rules. We should guard against just seeing the ridiculous or crazy aspects of this, hold ourselves back from making fun. These people with their baby-puzzles and their picture-constructions were indeed in no way harmless children or playful (?Phäaken)* Phæacians, they sat fearful in the middle of political, economic and moral agitation and earthquakes, conducted a number of horrible wars and conflicts, and their little picture-games were not simply little senseless childishness, but rather they bespoke a deep unfilled need, a need to close their eyes and flee from unsolved problems and anxious imaginings of death into a world of appearances, as harmless as ever it could be. This comes at the end of a couple of pages' discussion of the ridiculous idea of the feuilleton, which I believe means approximately "op-ed column" -- I hadn't thought of this before but it would be an interesting passage to keep in mind while reading The Black Book. Figuring out how to translate Phäaken, below the fold.
 *Phäaken is apparently the name of some kind of supernatural monster, maybe the best translation would be færies or something. Google results are mostly references to "Odysseus and the Phäaken", but all in German -- I'm not sure what part of the Odyssey this is from.... (looking at Google, looking at the Odyssey....) Aha! Never mind! It means Phæacians! I wonder what this connotes. ...I'm not totally sure of this, but I think the intended meaning is naïf: Nausicaa says,
We live too far apart, out in the surging sea,
off at the world's end --
no other mortals come to mingle with us.
(Book VI, l. 222 ff., Fagles' translation.) So if someone is a "Phæacian,"  he is callow and unfamiliar with the world -- is my best guess, anyhow. Now I've got an image in my head that's hard to shake, of a drunken Captain Haddock hurling epithets at the object of his annoyance, muttering "Flibbering Phæacians!"
↻...done
posted evening of December 13th, 2008: 2 responses
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 Listen to the song available on this page, while looking at the image on this page. Fun, right?
 (Thanks to a couple of people on the Fegmaniax list...)
posted evening of December 13th, 2008: Respond
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The best noodle soup is the curry noodle soup sold by Nyonya. That's what I think anyway -- so you can imagine how excited I was a couple of weeks ago when I noticed there is a branch of Penang (same ownership as Nyonya) on Rte. 10, in the same shopping center as Kam Man Foods. This is fantastic -- I've eaten there a couple of times in the past month, and it is definitely in the same high league as NYC restaurants. The servings are even larger than I had remembered though: If you are dining by yourself you will most likely take half of your food home for another meal. (I love that if you buy noodle soup to go, they will give you noodles and broth in separate containers, to mix at home.) I had lunch there today (Curry beef noodle soup), and was surprised when the (Malaysian) waitress who has served me a few times so far greeted me by saying "Hola, Señor!" I smiled, said hi, and did a double-take -- does she think I am Latino? I can't figure out what would make her think that -- and by the time I recovered it was too late to ask. My only idea is that she had noticed me reading a book whose author's name José is prominent on the cover... Kind of a stretch. Or possibly I mis-heard.
 Update: Curry beef noodle soup is also extremely good reheated the next day. I was worried the noodles would get soggy from sitting in the fridge overnight; but not at all.
posted afternoon of December 13th, 2008: 2 responses
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In the eighth chapter of The Stone Raft, a fourth person joins the group of pilgrims -- the first female pilgrim, and the first person who was mentioned in the book -- back in the first sentence of the whole story, "When Joana Carda scratched the ground with the elm branch all the dogs of Cerbère began to bark..." This is key -- references to Ms. Carda and her elm branch have appeared throughout the story but no information about who she is, where she lives, what she was doing. Now here she is, still carrying the branch* -- she has come by train seeking the other three. The group is still one person short of the full complement -- I wonder if the final person to join them will be Maria Dolores. I'm still curious why she was given a name, when the only other characters with names are the members of this group of pilgrims. A point for research -- when José, Joachim and Pedro return to Portugal they cross the border at "the mouth of the Guadiana", which is Vila Real de Santo António; but the starlings, "swept away by the volley of gunfire from Rosal de la Frontera of bitter memory,... made a wide circle northward..." I wonder what battle is being referenced here. Something from the Spanish Civil War? Or earlier, maybe part of a border conflict between Spain and Portugal? In Lisboa, José, Joachim and Pedro stay at the Hotel Bragança, where Ricardo Reis stayed a long time ago -- the narrator references this point, saying, ...the book where that name was once registered, many, many, years ago, is stored away in the archives, covered with dust in the attic, written on a page that may never come to light, and if it should, most likely the name will be illegible, the line will be faded, or even the entire page, that's one of the effecs of time, to blot out everything. It is deemed unwise for Joana to stay in the same hotel -- the authorities have by now found out about the travelers and are giving them some grief -- so she moves in up the street, at the Hotel Borges. Ha!
*"...which unfortunately is neither telescoping nor easily packed away, so that people stare in amazement as she passes, and the receptionist at the desk, jesting to disguise his genuine curiosity, makes a discreet reference to wands that are not walking sticks, Joana Carda responded with silence, after all, there is no law to prohibit guests from taking even a branch of Holm Oak into their room, much less a thin little stick, not even two meters long, which fits easily into the elevator and can be neatly stored away out of sight in a corner."
posted morning of December 13th, 2008: Respond
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Thursday, December 11th, 2008
I found another pretty spectacular cover version of "Satellite of Love" -- this one is by Robyn Hitchcock and Grant Lee Phillips, I'm assuming from the same tour (possibly the same concert) documented in Elixirs and Remedies. A beautiful performance, and I just love the camerawork way the visual frame is composed.
posted evening of December 11th, 2008: 2 responses
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 It's not available yet -- going to be released in February. But you can listen to some of the tracks at Proper Records.
 Hm; hard to make a judgement of the record based on these clips. I am glad to see the songs from The Fifth Beatle appearing here, because I think they are lovely songs; but I have no idea whether I'll like the Venus 3 versions better than the solo versions I've heard. I will say, that is one of the nicest Robyn Hitchcock album covers I've ever seen.
posted morning of December 11th, 2008: Respond
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Wednesday, December 10th, 2008
Last night I was watching Herzog's short documentaries; one of them is How Much Wood Would a Woodchuck Chuck... -- Beobachtungen zu einer neuen Sprache, which is a record of the 1976 National Livestock Auctions championships. Interesting and fun! The auctioneer's cant always gets my blood going. (The above song is "The Auctioneer" by The Spark Gap Wonder Boys -- the movie has a similar thing going on, but even better because there are so many different auctioneers.)Well -- a lot to say about this film but I didn't really get any of it sorted out. There are things that remind me of Stroszek, most obviously the auction scene but other stuff too, like the lovely performance of "Country Roads" midway through. The main thing was, I thought this documentary was a distillation of Herzog's fascination with language and idiom -- my favorite part was the beginning, when Herzog was interviewing some of the contestants. The camera just hung on their bodies and heads and watched them talking. They talk about how they got into auctioneering and how they learned the cant. Bonus that they came from a lot of different places in North America so you got to watch how their inflecions come through in the cant.
posted evening of December 10th, 2008: Respond
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Tuesday, December 9th, 2008
Bill of Orbis Tertius Quintus gives my thoughts on identification with authors a sympathetic link. Nice to see them framed by someone else -- gives me something to think about.
posted evening of December 9th, 2008: 3 responses
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Returned to Pedro's house in Orce, the three travellers watch Gibraltar slipping past on TV, and get a glimpse of José's starlings -- he admits he had forgotten them on the drive. There they are now, as Unamuno described them, his swarthy face cupped in the palms of his hands, Fix your eyes where the lonely sun sets in the immense sea, all nations with the sea to the west do the same,... Interesting -- what poem of Unamuno's is this? It's a beautiful line. Google gives no hits for the phrase, "Fix your eyes where the lonely sun sets in the immense sea" -- perhaps it has not been translated precisely this way before. What is hellish about Orce? Repeatedly in the text, Saramago is describing this town as the abode of the Devil -- pictures of the region I can find on the internet seem pretty idyllic though. This is where Pedro asks to join the travellers in their journey.
posted evening of December 9th, 2008: Respond
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Sunday, December 7th, 2008
They are seated on the ground, under a Cordoban olive tree, the kind that, according to the popular quatrain, makes the oil yellow, as if olive oil weren't yellow, or only occasionally slightly greenish...
Any ideas what the popular verse referenced is? Google's not doing much for me. Is Cordoban/Cordovan a variety of olive in addition to being a place where olives are grown?
posted evening of December 7th, 2008: Respond
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