Here is the beginning of one of my stories that never gets published. Others may not, but I like my own style.
How many roads lead to Heaven? If you trip on the bridge, do you fall? Had some event marked Una, did a single moment fix her to her chair? Or was it an accretion of forces, a slow accumulation; a maze of impasses that calcified her bones to the rock? It may be either or both, as damage comes at every speed and the effect is the same.
Ought she to find someone to cultivate, and not simply care for her? Had this been Frank’s desire before he was cast in her mold? Love loves and does not coerce, but would he love her without her wounds? Then there was the farm, the mere duty of it that drained her, although she wanted it. Suffering and balm were the coin of her realm.
We had been expensive and must make the debt good. Our value varied with the markets, which careened. We received love; our debt increased with undeserved kindnesses. Still we dreamed of loving an object that would not set itself below us, or above. A diamond or a comet, we thought, a fiery gem that would hit us right in the chest.
At the end of the summer break I will get to Houston, and I will be there in time to see what is apparently a truly important exhibit on Mexican modernism.
This of course engages my topics: avant-garde discourse (revolution, modernity), and representations of race (nation), interests I must articulate in a more precise way than I am doing at this moment.
I should hone in on all art exhibits in this way.
From Austerlitz, I learned about this Resnais short obliquely based on Borges, Toute la mémore du monde. This article, about architecture in the Bibliothèque Nationale of France, complements the film and the novel very well. And here is a set of 13 films of works by Borges and Bioy Casares.
How do you see film “à la Alain Resnais”? There is a moment in Hiroshima mon amour where Emmanuelle Riva says “Bien regarder, je crois que ça s’apprend.” The entire film is about vision, and it is about war, so it is related to Austerlitz.
Related to both Borges and Resnais: Mon amour, reading films; another list of films on Bioy, in a book; another discussion of Bioy, Resnais, and film.
Un fotógrafo que después declaró en Nuremberg.
Y como si no fuera suficiente, aquí van los últimos andaluces de Mauthausen.
Y una más sobre Boix.
Y hay más: el último español de Buchenwald, memorias de Elsa Osaba de Mauthausen, Saturnino Navaso, futbolista de Mauthausen.
Filed under Arts, Cinearte, News
Here is a bad poem or at least, one I dislike. I read it while reading an interesting book review that shows precisely why everyone is fatigued with the Democratic Party, in the same magazine with a yet more interesting book review on Hitler, characterized as a warning from history. This was the title of an important BBC series on the second world war made in the late 90s, that is apparently being rebroadcast now.
I am of course fascinated with the Shoah since I find my Polish and Lithuanian cousins in its databases. I have seen Night will fall, a documentary about a documentary that has been finished at last. This second film is very beautifully photographed, strange though that may seem to say. But the cameramen were artists and I think they had good film and equipment.
Meanwhile, it seems that the FBI sat on the Trump-Russia file for months. But at least there is such a thing as Radio Cómeme — which offers better poetry than does (necessarily) Sharon Olds.
Filed under Arts, News, Poetry
Alan Watts on Chesterton.
Paul Preston on the Spanish Civil War — as holocaust.
The Holocaust Encyclopedia actually has an entry on the Spanish Civil War.
U.S. economists are always wrong.
There was also an excerpt from Chris Hayes’s new book, A Colony Within a Nation. As he says, “In the nation, you have rights; in the colony you have commands.” These are the two Americas. We need this kind of structural historical analysis to understand the way systemic racism works. That is, those of us who live in the nation do. Those who live in the colony know all about it. It is absolutely part and parcel of what our country is. No use denying it.