I've often wondered. Larry McMurtry writes what
I believe to be wonderful westerns , even though I'm not a
particular fan of the genre. He loves words, clearly, and uses them like
precision instruments, and if you don't find yourself falling (in a completely
heterosexual way, if it do ya) for Captains Gus and Call of the Texas Rangers,
then I don't know what it might take. Colmac McCarthy has a new book out that I can't wait to read - well,
once it comes out in paperback that is - it's not that he doesn't deserve to
have it read in hardback, it's just that, well - I'm cheap, that way. His
"All the Pretty Horses" told another evocative tale of the
American west, updated to the middle of the 20th century. The reading of it, and
the falling in love with his talesmanship caused me to run through his entire
back list a few years ago. I've read the late Patrick O'Brien's Aubrey/Maturin series about the Royal Navy in
the Napoleonic Wars straight through more times than I'd care to admit, and
laughed at all the usual places every time. And right now, I'm running through
Paul Johnson's "Modern Times," and I'm loving every moment of it -
except that, coming in at almost 900 pages, it has become obvious to me that Mr.
Johnson has found a great deal more to write about in his chosen era - the
period between the end of the First World War and the end of the Cold War - than
I have found time in which to indulge him. And so I am occasionally distracted
by Mark Helprin's "The
Pacific," a collection of short
stories suitable to modern attention spans (I do not exclude myself) having
learned to love his writing in a book called, "A Soldier of the Great War " - perhaps the
greatest war novel I have ever read, and one I loved so dearly that for years I
gave copies as gifts to the friends I loved the most.
-
Based on the recommendation of another friend,
I've recently renewed my library card and borrowed two books on CD: Faulkner's
"The Sound and the
Fury" and Frank McCourt's
"Angela's
Ashes." (No link for Faulkner,
sorry. You've read him already. Right?) Having downloaded them on to my iPod,
and having one of those (sweet) iPod charger/FM transmitter adapters for the
auto-voiture, I am now prepared, over the course of the intervening days and
weeks ahead spent grinding up and down Hwy 5 going to work (Waagh!), to refresh
my appreciation of two very wonderful, very different books.
-
Why did I choose two books that I had already read
for my experiment in "reading" books by audio? To compare the experience with
that of actually reading them, silly. Tell you how it went, David. Once you've
given me that url :-)
-
And just the other night, switching to visual
arts, we rented Baz Lurhmann's "Romeo and
Juliet," and Martin Scorsese's
"Raging
Bull." Now, either of you are
probably aware that W.S Shakespeare is the god of my secular admiration,
especially when it comes to the written page. No one has ever put quill to
parchment (or any writing device to any other media, for that matter) as well as
he did, and I very much doubt that anyone ever will again. Shakespeare took
stories that were in modest circulation in Italy and France, as well as
patriotic histories suitable for the court of a religiously divided England and
turned them into his own immortality. On his quality and contributions, you are
free to disagree of course, this being, after all, a free country. Just so long
as you do so privately, I beseech you. And give you thanks.
-
So it was with some trepidation that I rented the
movie starring an astonishingly young Leonardo DiCaprio and the nearly
translucent Claire Danes (what ever
did
happen to her?) some years ago. I was prepared to be outraged, and found myself
enchanted instead. Oh, Lurhmann did skip over vast paragraphs of wonderful
material in the original text, and whole lines were transplanted from the final
act into the first or second as though no one would be watching, but as for
myself? I objected not at all: In the opening chorus, Shakespeare asks us to
attend to the "Two hours traffic of our stage," and if any Elizabethan retinue
could get through all of that play in 120 minutes, with scene changes, then they
must have set a damned frenetic pace doing so. As for updating the set and
characters from the 15th century to the 20th, I was inordinately pleased:
Shakespeare's audiences saw the original as being of their time, as up to the
moment as the striking clock in your hallway. Why should his enthusiasts some
five hundred years later be denied the same immediacy? The music, both modern
and antique was wonderful as well (Juliet kills herself to Wagner's "Liebestod"
or "loves death" from the opera
"Tristan und
Isolde.") The cinematography and staging
were inspired, although I did have some critiques: The camera sometimes dwelt
too lovingly on the purchased star of DiCaprio's Romeo, even when another
speaker (Harold Perrineau's Mercutio - himself last seen
in the last two "Matrix"
sequels) is holding center stage in soliloquy - we are left, strangely, looking
through the speaker's back into the face of a befuddled and bemused DiCaprio -
raw youth had given him a kind of elfin beauty, but not yet gravitas or depth.
But these are mere trifles, and I've watched the VHS cassette (and now DVD) a
dozen times - I would watch it again tomorrow.
-
"Raging
Bull" I had been advised to see, having
missed it in its theatrical release a quarter century ago. The first thing that
struck me was the sad ravages of time: De Niro looks almost shockingly young,
and the black and white stock he's filmed in only serves to telescope the
distance between then and now. There is no doubting Scorsese's technical
competence of course, as every scene is perfectly lit, and often wonderfully
directed. But De Niro's character, the boxer Jake LaMotta is anything but
sympathetic, and I could not watch him straight through. I shut the DVD down
after an hour's investment, unwilling to throw good time after bad.
-
So, is it the tale, or the telling?
-
Yes. Yes, it is.
Posted @
07:48 PM
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Posted in
""
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Sendit
|
Credo
"Sign on, young man, and sail with me. The stature of our homeland is no more than the measure of ourselves. Our job is to keep her free. Our will is to keep the torch of freedom burning for all. To this solemn purpose we call on the young, the brave, the strong, and the free. Heed my call, Come to the sea. Come Sail with me." - John Paul Jones
"Pardon him, Theodotus; he is a barbarian, and thinks that the customs of his tribe and island are the laws of nature" --George Bernard Shaw, "Ceasar and Cleopatra"
"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music."--Friederich Nietzsche
