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Saturday, March 20th, 2010
Reading both "The Secret Miracle" and "Three Versions of Judas" -- I am identifying strongly with the main characters (HladÃk and Runeberg) -- but instead of identifying with the narrator, I am identifying the narrator as Borges -- the "position of the reader" in which I find myself,  is listening to him telling a story. (This reminds me of how much I enjoyed reading his lectures, picturing him addressing the class.) The third person works very well here. These two stories go together very well, and are moderately distinct from the rest of the fictions -- both are strongly dependent on religious content*; both narrate the composition of a work which vindicates the main character -- HladÃk's "grand invisible labyrinth," Runeberg's heresy -- and the character's death. "The Secret Miracle" seems to me the closest in style to Poe of any of Borges' fictions.
 *I was going to call them "deeply religious," but I don't think that's quite right -- Runeberg is "deeply religious," HladÃk's experience is one of religious ecstasy; understanding each story requires a willingness to identify with religious sentiment but not, I think, any personal commitment to religious thinking. I have always assumed Borges was an atheist (and a lapsed Catholic) but I don't know if that is accurate.
posted morning of March 20th, 2010: Respond
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Friday, March 19th, 2010
Hladik's first emotion was simple terror. He reflected that he wouldn't have quailed at being hanged, or decapitated, or having his throat slit, but being shot by a firing squad was unbearable. In vain he told himself a thousand times that the pure and universal act of dying was what ought to strike fear, not the concrete circumstances of it, and yet Hladik never wearied of picturing to himself those circumstances.
"The Secret Miracle"
posted evening of March 19th, 2010: Respond
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Wednesday, March 17th, 2010
The metaphysicians of Tlön seek not truth, or even plausibility -- they seek to amaze, astound. In their view, metaphysics is a branch of the literature of fantasy.
What really got my attention in Josipovici's piece Borges and the Plain Sense of Things, was his focus on the postscript to the story, on the narrator's experience of Tlön infiltrating and disintegrating our world. I see now that I have in the past read this story as if it were written by a Tlönian metaphysician, as a work of fantasy: my understanding of the story has been twofold, of Borges asking me to imagine a world where idealism is the obviously correct way to understand reality and a human conspiracy to invent such a world, and of Borges asking me to imagine this invented world overtaking our own. But I've been missing, or not paying enough attention to, a third aspect of this (vast) story, how Borges the narrator feels about this alteration of reality. (Maybe I should have been tipped off by Borges' footnote #2, in which he refers to Russell's idea that the world could have been "created only moments ago, filled with human beings who 'remember' an illusory past." It has never been very clear to me what this note is doing in the story; but it could certainly be there to tie the thought-experiment in to the present moment in history from which Borges is writing.)Speaking of footnotes -- one of the things that is great about this edition of the fictions, is Hurley's painstakingly researched, unobtrusive endnotes. They are easily ignorable when you want to read the story without interruption; and they add a whole lot when you read the story with interruptions. I am taken aback to find that all of the people named in this story (excluding, perhaps, Herbert Ashe) -- Carlos Mastronardi, Néstor Ibarra, Alfonso Reyes, Xul Solar, etc. -- are real figures from Borges' milieu, and very interested at some of the books referenced. And this does not come from Hurley's notes -- but I was very happy to learn that there really is an Anglo-American Cyclopædia from 1917, which really is a reprint of an older edition of Encyclopædia Britannica.
posted evening of March 17th, 2010: Respond
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Tuesday, March 16th, 2010
Gabriel Josipovici's essay on "Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius" has prompted me to go back and take a look at Borges' fictions (and to check out from the library the Collected Fictions, and to be confirmed in my impression of Hurley's translations as pitch-perfect, and to resolve to buy the volume.) One thing I'm noticing -- making very slow progress, with a lot of re-reading -- is that the  identification-with-other that I like so much in most of the fiction I read is not present so strongly in Borges. The narrators are identifiably Borges -- the only case I've noticed so far where this is untrue, "Man on Pink Corner," is a comparatively weak story, it feels like he is trying too hard. This is not a short-coming, precisely; in some stories like "Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius" or "The Shape of the Sword," it is exactly the right thing. But it it really noticeable, and striking, for instance in "The Library of Babel" -- the narrator cannot be a denizen of the Library, else how would he have any knowledge of the books and languages he names, but must instead be Borges imagining himself in that situation. I as a reader get to identify with Borges but not, or only at second hand, with the nameless man who wanders endlessly through the Library. It is a long time since I've read most of these stories, and I am still in the early part of the collection -- I will try and keep an eye out for whether this style of narration continues throughout.
posted evening of March 16th, 2010: Respond
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Sunday, March 14th, 2010
I went to see Alice in Wonderland with Sylvia this afternoon. (That is to say, "Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland in 3-D"...) I was kind of expecting not to like it, based on a general inbred aversion to commercializing the classics and on a negative review I had read in the NY Times; but it won me over, mostly. Burton really succeeded in completely imagining the world of the movie, with gorgeous photography and animation; the world of Carroll's books was present but Burton was not tied in to imitating it, and there was a reason given in the screenplay for why this was so -- the world of the books was assumed as part of the background of the world of the movie. (I also really enjoyed the use of 3-D in this film, maybe moreso than any other 3-D movie I've been to so far.) I had a hard time getting fully inside the movie, but I'm blaming my own blinders for that rather than the director's vision -- I set out trying to find fault, and spent too much of my time internally carping about how it was not that way in the book, instead of letting myself go. (And to be sure, the adaptation of the elements of Carroll's plot to a Narnia-style battle between forces of good and evil is heavy-handed, there's no getting around that -- part of the letting myself go that I did intermittently was laughing at the sillyness of this, so that I could get into it.) Sylvia was not doing this kind of nit-picking, and she paid it what seems to me like the ultimate compliment on our way out of the theater, that you could really tell Burton had read the book before he made the movie.
posted afternoon of March 14th, 2010: Respond
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Thursday, March 11th, 2010
It contributes something to a reading of Middlesex, to ask how well Cal knows the stories he is telling. Much of the book is told in something similar to a third-person omniscient voice, scenes where Cal simply couldn't know the things he is telling, and the obvious conclusion is that he's making them up, embroidering details into his scant family history. Occasionally he cops to this, saying e.g. "...And now I have to enter Father Mike's head, I'm afraid. I feel myself being sucked in and I can't resist." (What a great idea it is to make Father Mike be the scam artist.) Other times the embellishments are just presented as part of the story. Cal's desire for an integral back-story to his life, a history without holes, makes a really compelling framework for the book.
posted evening of March 11th, 2010: Respond
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Monday, March 8th, 2010
In the long, slow third part of Middlesex, there is a strong sense of building towards a climax. Calliope was born at the beginning of the third part; and the narrative arc is moving deliberately toward her coming of age and becoming Cal -- as she grows the the tension is increasing constantly. There's some tension between the narrated character of young Callie -- who does not know what's going to happen -- and the narrator himself, who has told us well in advance what is happening. I'm waiting with bated breath to find out how it happens. A comparison that's flickered across my mind a couple of times is to the character of Oskar in The Tin Drum -- I don't remember how clearly Oskar-the-narrator laid this out, but it seems to be understood that young Oskar is clairvoyant, that he knows from the beginning about how his life is going to play out.
posted evening of March 8th, 2010: Respond
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Sunday, March 7th, 2010
I've recommended Middlesex to a couple of people over the past week -- but every time I have done so I have not been able to come up with the right frame. I've been talking up little bits of the book -- the portrait of mid-20th C. Detroit; the vividness of the historical episodes; the mapping of Cal's family's history -- but what I really dig about this novel is the fulness of it, the way it all fits together. I like all the pieces by themselves, but the whole is much more than its parts. (And Cal him/herself might be a good proxy for the totality of the book; but I've been unsure how much to talk about Cal's situation for fear of spoiling a good yarn.) The chapter about the race riots is an instance of this -- I'm loving the aspect of the chapter which is vivid and informational, this is a lot of new historical details for me, but what really seals the deal for me is the way this data is woven in to the lives of the characters, the way this is part of the story.
 (The chapter about the riots opens with Cal's father sleeping with a gun under the pillow, and a reference to Chekhov's line about a gun in the first scene -- but what is sticking out for me right now is the insurance policies in the first scene. The detail a few chapters back about Lefty having over-insured the diner, and told his son to keep the policies, made me think the place will burn down; and the riots seemed like they would be a good place for that to happen. So I'm scratching my head, wondering what the insurance is for...) Aha! Nevermind -- I wrote that last paragraph before I got to the end of the chapter.
posted afternoon of March 7th, 2010: 1 response
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Wednesday, March third, 2010
I started reading Middlesex last night, with a vague expectation that I was not really going to like it very much. I'm not sure why -- I must have read a dismissive review back when it came out, and internalized that. As it turns out, the book is (so far) excellent. I have been riveted to (Eugenides' imagining of) Cal's imagining of the sack of Smyrna, and his grandparents' flight, and their lives in mid-20th-C. Michigan. Have not quite gotten to the point yet of identifying with the grandparents but they are certainly well-crafted characters; I am identifying very closely with Cal him/herself. The vivid quality of the descriptions of widely disparate times and places is stunning.
posted evening of March third, 2010: Respond
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Sunday, February 28th, 2010
Sylvia and I spent some time this weekend reading stories from a college book of mine, Rhoda Hendricks' 1972 edition Classical Gods and Heroes: Myths as told by the ancient authors -- a good resource although I don't love her translations. Looks like we should find some good translations of Hesiod's Theogony and Works and Days to learn more about the early Greek myths. It will probably be a lot more difficult to learn anything about the early Roman myths, since all the Roman writing about mythology seems to come from well after the Hellenization process was underway. I would like to pick up a good translation of Metamorphoses though, Ovid seems to be a good story-teller. Anyone who is interested in this stuff and has not read the comments to the previous post should do so -- Randolph reposted a great writeup there from Bryon Boyce.
posted afternoon of February 28th, 2010: Respond
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