From an old Cabinet. Cabinet is wonderful. Prefer offline to online, not because the online is not wonderful, but because the offline is even wonderfuller. Here’s an excerpt of this piece:
“Brilliant and passionate, as fun-loving as she was hard-working, “la divine Émilie” was both admired and loathed by her peers, stunned as they were by the nerve of an eighteenth-century female who was as capable of debating men on the laws of physics as she was of performing the role typically assigned to her gender. She left in her wake a series of lovers in the best tradition of intrigue among French royals—or rather among intellectuals, long before the Existentialists and the French avant-garde”
“Mama Cash was founded in 1983 in the Netherlands by five Dutch women active in the women’s movement: Marjan Sax, Dorelies Kraakman, Tania Léon, Patti Slegers and Lida van den Broek. They all strived for the same purpose – more self–reliance and independence for women – and for that reason founded Mama Cash, the world’s first independent, international women’s fund.”
I am not going to post anything relating to the current Jonze joint, if only to reduce the amount of time I am made to give it my attention. Even after I see it. And I already know that then I will have my work cut out for me, upholding this fussy and arbitrary rule. I am always up for a challenge, me.
Given the impact each viewing of Tarkovsky’s work has had on me, I cannot explain why it’s taken me ten years to watch four films. Maybe part of that can be attributed to watching The Sacrifice repeatedly. Maybe not.
Anyway, I need to take a little webspace to genuflect right now. Not to prowess, or achievement, or mastery, although I assume all of those must be present to create this kind of Stendhal-inducing work. Masterful filmmakers are not in short supply. However, from everything I have read, few if any have been able to create the particular experience Tarkovsky creates. I am admittedly prone to hyperbole, but on this topic, I risk writing stale if I employ concepts like spellbound, otherworldly, euphoric, and transcendental.
Of course, there are as many who have an experience of boredom, confusion, or impatience. Which is why my genuflecting webspace will be devoted to proselytizing thusly: many things which are good for you do not feel so good going in. If you are determined to reap the goodness, you must learn to find your way beyond the not good feeling. Tips:
“slow” can be good. Think food, think sex, think Tarkovsky. It’s a feast.
engage. Tarkovsky preferred mise en scene to montage, feeling that cuts are tricks. Instead of a steady conveyor belt of bite-sized meaning, you get an open field in which to wander, and joining you in the field at unpredictable intervals and angles will be various-sized meanings.
you think you are reading it, but you will read it differently as you go. What at first seems spooky will become romantic.
And what is the goodness to be reaped? Contemplative travel to some very rich and mystical ideas about life and death. Time distortion. Dreams, memory, magic.
But maybe you’re not up for that tonight. That’s cool too, you can totally just dig on the crocheted ponchos and the sound of the Russian language and the inexplicably floating chandeliers.
Enjoyed this review of James McWilliams’ Just Food. Reviewer Rebekah Denn gives credit for intelligent, challenging ideas which can be found in the book, but calls McWilliams on the flawed arguments, shallow support for assertions and patronizing tone.
“Nothing can be more dreary than 'coolness' . . . all I could do was sit on the edge of the bed in despair listening to their awful 'likes' and 'like you know' and 'wow crazy' and 'a wig, man' 'a real gas'--All this was about to sprout out all over America even down to high school level and be attributed in part to my doing!” Jack Kerouac Desolation Angels, 1957