Friday, December 31, 2010

The Traditional End Of Year Round Up Post-

Or what I managed, or almost managed, in this my first years Blogging
-Subtitled a Bluffers guide to semi-literate blogging.

japlit4           library-rc-1
I started this blog around the beginning of April this year (2010)  because of Boredom, yep!, I was bored. Quick back track. In October 2009, I had an accident on my mountain bike - Kona Cindercone (steel) – braking to avoid a small dog, who, at that precise moment, chose to leave the safety of the pavement. I flew over the handlebars in a very poor impression of Superman, and was rapidly introduced to gravity, playing the role of a Dickensian schoolmaster i.e. he slapped me down quick & hard – end result, I ripped my knee open on the curb, stood up, checked dog (fine & dandy), checked bike (functioning) - I cycled home, went to the hospital, and was off work for over 6 months, had keyhole surgery to repair my Anterior Cruciate Ligament, followed by lots of physio from a mad Polish woman. As I said Boredom, so lots of reading later and I met a certain Chilean writer (figuratively speaking), through “The Savage Detectives” and in the process of finding out more about him, I discovered Blogs, fell in love with the concept, did some research, came up with a name, and started my own with a tentative post entitled “ What it says on the tin”. This post was an attempt to set out my stall, by that I mean it was meant as a  mission statement, a means by which I could set the parameters of my Blog, this being-
“a place to discuss the books we like, music that soundtracks our lives & that glass of fine malt that rounds of a fine evening.”
Seventy three posts  later, and I’ve realised that books are the main reason I blog, although that won’t stop me mentioning  my latest favourite artist/musician etc., or writing posts on a favoured Malt, it appears that books are the mainstay of The Parrish Lantern.
orbisLiteraryBlogHop-1










bbaw-button2010_med

Also this year in the spirit of learning about this world, I have entered, I joined several challenges. these being -





japlit4Japanese literary challenge 4 run by Bellezza at Dolce Bellezza, through whom I’ve learnt a lot.  I’ve also managed to read and post on fifteen works of Japanese Literature, and in the process discovered a whole load of writers I would never have come across otherwise.
My favourite book entered here was a close call, but in the end  I chose – Stained Glass Elegies by Shusuku Endo, although not by any stretch of the imagination a new book, just new to me.


orbisOrbis Terrarum challenge This is run by Bethany canfield(dreadlock girl), and is an around the world challenge (8 books in 8 months), with the expressed aim of getting  individuals to read books from places  that they wouldn’t normally attempt, so ideal for a newbie - I posted 10 from 7 countries (image of head increasing 10 fold).
How the hell, do you pick one book?. For this challenge I’ve posted on books by Nick Cave, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, & by Alessandro Baricco plus a few more, all of which I absolutely adored. So this is a bit of a cop out, but it’s probably my favourite Roberto Bolano (This is subject to change) -  Last Evenings on Earth



bbaw-button2010_medBook Blogger Appreciation week (September 13-17, 2010.) This was a bit presumptuous of me, but I thought what the heck, and although I didn’t come anywhere, I met a lot of fellow bookfiends, who I now follow, and even some that follow me.
For this I chose one that I enjoyed writing the most, and also contains my favourite Haruki  Murakami short story -  On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl, One Beautiful April Morning. This is a beautiful, funny, sad story that I adored (In fact I read it twice over), that perfectly describes the human relationships within this book. The book being The Elephant Vanishes.



library-rc-12010 support your local library challenge this is run by by J. Kaye at  Home Girls Book Blog and is one I was really keen to support, as libraries are some of the greatest assets this country has, and in the current economic climate they aren’t safe ( as was discussed in the Guardian by Andrew Motion back in June) . This was also  me being to big for my boots, I chose the 100 books + challenge, and managed 74.
Back to the trite question, of the seventy four books I posted, there were plenty of authors, that I could place here, books that just blew me away, that changed my conception of literature, books like 2666, or Master of Go, books such as Illustrado or The Barnum Museum (fantastic Cluedo short story), but in the end, I’m choosing a book that was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize 2010 (although it lost out to The Finkler Question) This book being  Tom McCarthy’s C and a book-post  in which I forgot to thank Stu (Winstonsdad’s blog) who put me onto this. So a belated thanks to you Stu.





LiteraryBlogHop-1The Literary Bloghop  run by the Ladies at  The Blue Bookcase. This has been my latest expedition in the Blogworld, and my latest source of fun. The premise of this Hop is to primarily feature book reviews of literary fiction, classic literature, and general literary discussion. and has now gone fortnightly with a different question each time, and even featured one of mine, which was favourite poet/poem. This is also still on-going.



So nearing the end of the 2010, and I am still in love with blogging, or more particularly book blogging, also I’ve learnt a valuable lesson, I once thought that books and reading were a solitary experience. That  the very nature of reading negated company, made it a pursuit that obviously had to be solitary in nature - Well foolish me, after discovering challenges, readathons, hops etc. I’ve realised  reading can be as solitary or as full of companionship as you want, the only criteria necessary is a love of  the written word, in  whatever format that may take. This amazingly leads me onto 2011 and what challenges are coming,
But that’s another post………..
one not decided yet  although there is a couple, I’ve got my eye on.
Open a book and you are at
    the gate of a new City   

  old Hebrew saying



Greetings on a New Year
glasses
For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
~T.S. Eliot,

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Pablo Neruda–Fully Empowered.

  The Poet’s Obligation.
pablo neruda
  To whoever is not listening to the sea
    this Friday morning, to whoever is cooped up
    in house or office, factory or woman
    or street or mine or dry prison cell,
    to him I come, and without speaking or looking
     I arrive and open the door of his prison,
    and a vibration starts up, vague and insistent,
    a long rumble of thunder adds itself
    to the weight of the planet and the foam,
    the groaning rivers of the ocean rise,
    the star vibrates quickly in its corona
    and the sea beats, dies, and goes on beating.
                                                                                     Excerpt from The Poets obligation






Pablo Neruda (July 12, 1904 – September 23, 1973) was the pen name and later, legal name of the Chilean poet and politician Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto. He chose his pen name after the Czech poet Jan Neruda, as the young poet wanted to find a name that would mislead his father, who was against his son’s interest in writing and literature. Years later, Pablo Neruda in recognition of the great Czech poet, left a flower at the foot of his statue in Prague. Pablo is thought to be from Paul Verlaine. (wikipedia)                                    
“Fully Empowered" is an outstanding volume of poetry by Pablo Neruda. The book was translated into English in 1975, and is a bilingual edition, with the Spanish originals and English versions on facing pages. It was first published in 1962 (Spanish) and Neruda considered it one of his favourites, specifically asking for his finest translator, Alastair Reed to translate it into English.  Neruda’s love for this collection of his poetry, was partly due to the fact that it grew from a period he considered really fruitful, and that it represented the diversity of his poetic style.

Through images, both public and private, he wrote with passion of the role of the poet in society, of how poetry was not some esoteric elitist word-game, that it should be the life blood of any nation, exalting the very basis of existence with an intense, personal, and childlike love.
So through me, freedom and the sea
will call in answer to the shrouded heart.


Pablo Neruda (wikipedia)
Poets(Pablo Neruda)

Thursday, December 23, 2010

A Seasons Greeting.

  A Christmas Poem. 

merryxmas

Toward the winter Solstice.

Timothy Steele

Although the roof  is just a story high ,

it dizzies me a little  to look down.

I lariat-twirl  the cord of  Christmas lights

and cast it to the weeping birches crown;

A dowel into which I’ve screwed a hook

Enables me to reach, lift, drape, and twine

the cord among the boughs  so that bulbs

will accent the tree’s elegant design.

Friends, passing home from work, or shopping,

will pause                                                         

And call up commendations  or critiques.

I make adjustments. Though a potpourri

of Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, Jews and Sikhs

We  all are conscious  of the time of year;

We all enjoy its colourful displays.

Some say that L.A. doesn’t suit the Yule,

But the UPS vans now like magi make

Their present laden rounds, while fallen leaves

are gaily  resurrected in their wake;

The desert lifts  a full moon from the east

And issues a dry Santa Ana breeze,

And valets at chic restaurants will soon

Be tending flocks of cars and  SUVS.

And as the neighbourhoods  sink into the dusk

The fan palms scattered  all across the town stand

More calmly prominent, and this place seems

A vast oasis in the Holy land.                           

This house might be a caravansary,                     

The tree a kind of cordial fountainhead               

of welcome, looped and decked with                     

necklaces                                                                  

And ceintures of green, yellow, blue, and red.          

Some wonder if the star of Bethlehem                     

Occurred when Jupiter and Saturn crossed;          

It’s comforting to look up from this roof

And feel that, while all changes, nothing’s lost,

To recollect that in  antiquity             

The Winter Solstice fell in Capricorn

And that, in the Orion Nebula,     

From swirling gas, new stars are  being born.

   

Timothy Steele was born in 1948 in Burlington, Vermont. He received a B.A. in English in 1970 from Stanford University, followed by a Ph.D. in English and American Literature in 1977 from Brandeis University. His first collection of poems, Uncertainties and Rest, published in 1979, attracted attention for it’s colloquial charm and it’s allegiance to meter and rhyme at a time when free verse was the predominant style. Steele has published three additional collections: Sapphics against Anger and Other Poems (1986), The Color Wheel (1994), and most recently, Toward the Winter Solstice (2006). The first two books were reprinted in a joint volume, Sapphics and Uncertainties: Poems 1970-1986 (1995). Poets.Org

 

treexmas Tree decorated by my 9 year old daughter.

This seasons joy to one and all from The Parrish Lantern.

holly

   pomes  ALL SIZES 

If you have a Poem/ Poet, you admire please introduce them to me.

LIT-Blog-Hop

Now The ladies  at The Blue Book case, have made the Lit blog hop fortnightly, I will have more time to peruse the vast cavity I like to call my head in search of an answer worthy of the ladies questions. For those of you not familiar with The Blue Bookcase’s mission, here is a quick explanation, their idea is the promotion of works of literature, (literary fiction, classic literature, and general literary discussion). Whether, this is fiction or non-fiction & the ladies define this as  “Literature has many definitions, but for our purposes your blog qualifies as "literary" if it focuses primarily on texts with aesthetic merit. In other words, texts that show quality not only in narrative but also in the effect of their language and structure.” . So back to me and like some Knight Errant (Foolish Knave) on my Charger (meet my Charger - Glue factory, say hello) I accept this quest and will respond to

“What literary title (fiction or non-fiction) do you love that has been under-appreciated?  We all know about the latest Dan Brown, and James Patterson isn't hurting for publicity.  What quiet masterpiece do you want more readers to know?”

Luckily for me, this is an easy one & any one that knows me or has had the dubious honour of me commenting on their blog, can probably guess what I will choose.

Haruki Murakami’s Underground – Tokyo Gas Attack & The Japanese Psyche.

HM Underground

I have chosen this book because, even amongst the most fanatical Murakami fans, this book often gets missed, I know it’s a work of non-fiction, I know the subject matter is  not pleasant, in fact it’s down right gruesome. But for all that this book is shot through with the humanity & that questing nature that makes his fiction so readable, and by delving below the obvious surface horror he reveals a people lonely & alienated, trapped in a society enthralled by industrialisation & modernity. A people lost from their traditions, spirituality & the family ties of its past. In writing this book he questions his culture? Did it’s total acceptance of narrow conformity lead to the Aum’s  renunciation of society & it’s obsession with Armageddon, are the Aum a reaction to a culture so led by consumerism that the individual is permanently buried under a perpetual mountain of product? Some of these questions are answered, but most lead to more questions that his society & ours are will need to find answers to. For that reason this series of accounts acts as a moral compass, in a society in search of one.

 

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Yasunari Kawabata

go The Master of Go. 

This book is a fictionalised account of a real match, between Master Honimbō Shūsai and  his opponent Kitani Minoru, (renamed in the book, Otaké). This was to be the masters retirement match (started on 26 June 1938 and ended on 4 December 1938), and he died just over a year after it finished. Kawabata reported on the original match for the Mainichi newspaper chain, and  sections of this book are reworked versions of his original newspaper columns. The Japanese word  used  to describe this type of  book is shōsetsu, which can be translated as "chronicle-novel".

Before I go any further, a bit about the game. Go may well be the oldest board game in the world. It’s played on a grid-marked board with smooth disks of black (stone) and white (shell), the rules of the game have remained unchanged for millennia. It was introduced into Japan via China in the 8th century, initially played by courtiers, it was taken up by educated men, Buddhist monks, and Samurai.  In the 17th century, Japan’s feudal Government recognized four family – based schools of Go, these schools engaged in fierce rivalry, with the result of continuous improvement in play and the introduction of a ranking system, classifying players into a nine grade system culminating with the highest “Meijin” meaning expert or master. To play Go, two opponents start with an empty board and take turns placing their pieces on the intersection of the grid.

Go-board

Once set out, stones are not moved unless they are surrounded. Go is territorial. Players aim to stake out areas, either by enclosing blank space or capturing the opponents stones. At the end of the game, when all stones have been played, points are awarded for each vacant intersection in ones own territory plus captured pieces. Go, like chess, is a war game and although in principle quite simple, its strategic and tactical possibilities are endless.

The book starts, Shūsai,  Master of Go, twenty-first in the Honimbō succession, died in Atami, at the Urokoya Inn on the morning of 18 January 1940. He was sixty-seven years old by the “Oriental count ”. This was about thirteen months after his retirement match, which he lost to Otake by five points. After the match tea was served, pieces were put away and the master left, offering no comment on the game. All this is revealed within the first few pages of the book and we still have at least (not including footnotes) another two hundred odd pages to go. So, unless you’re a follower of Go, what reason do you have to carry on with the book, or to put it more succinctly- why the £>$~* did I continue with this book. The Master of Go, is more than a “faithful chronicle Novel”*, It’s a fascinating character study of two highly different individuals, representing opposing cultures, although both are Japanese.  The master represents the traditional Japan, with its ideal of the beauty of the game, with honour, and with it played as an almost deified art-form, where as Otake is very cerebral, pragmatic, representing a more scientific method, thus beneath the game’s decorum, tensions build, consuming the players, their families, friends and all those involved. On top of that you have the age old power struggle between the older player whose powers are fading, and his younger challenger aiming to  replace him in the pecking order, aiming for role of dominant male.

the master of go

As a final remark on this, the translator Edward Seidensticker considers it a symbolic parallel to the defeat of Japan in World War II, an event which affected Kawabata deeply. Kawabata began work on the book during the war, but did not complete it until well after the end of it.

The Master of Go is a novel by the Nobel Prize-winning Japanese author Yasunari Kawabata, first published in serial form in 1951. Titled Meijin (名人) in its original Japanese, Kawabata considered it his finest work, and although it’s based solely in and around the confines of the match, no knowledge  of the game beyond that mentioned in the book is necessary to appreciate this story (thankfully), but if you feel a need to learn more, if you click on the Go- board above it will take you to a site that can provide such information.

*Yasunari Kawabata’s term for this book

Yasunari Kawabata(Wiki)

Go (wiki)

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Ian Buxton

              101 Whiskies to try before you die                      

hanyu_whiskiesaberfeldy-12-year-old-malt-whisky-14-pwhiskyadelphi_whiskyArdbeg Uigeadail

 

In the introduction “101 whiskies to try before you die” the author describes this book as a list with a difference

It is not an awards list

It is not a list of the 101 “best” whiskies in the world

It is simply,(as it says in the title) a guide to 101 whiskies that an enthusiast should seek out and try- love them or hate them- to complete their whisky education, what’s more it’s practical and realistic.

101_whiskies

But, I think it’s a lot more than this. Forget the enthusiasts, they already have an array of books, and a veritable cacophony of experts clamouring for your last shilling. This little book deliberately avoids the obscure malt, deliberately shies away from any pseudo holy grail of the whisky aficionado, and by narrowing its vision to Single Malts, Blends, and Vatted Malts, that, with a little effort it is possible to track down. The author has produced one cracking little book, suited to any one with an interest no matter how slight.

  This is a book that cuts through the clutter, decodes the marketing hype and gets straight to the point; whether from India, America, Sweden, Ireland, Japan or the hills, glens and islands of Scotland, here are the 101 whiskies that you really want to taste.

Try them before you die. 101 ib

This is a fantastic little book, wrap it up and stick it under the tree, present it with a  bottle of your favoured ones preferred tipple, or better still choose a bottle from the book & find out if you agree with the author.

All at The Parrish Lantern advocate responsible drinking*

If you want more in depth information on Whisky

Malt-WhiskyGross*All? Oh, that will be me then.

 

Sláinte

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

pomes ALL SIZES

   pomes  ALL SIZES 

Recently I posed the question “What is your favourite poem/poet ?” as part of The Blue Bookcase’s Literary Hop. What surprised me, apart from how difficult it was to nail it down to one poem, was how much i enjoyed it. By posing this question, with little thought beyond “That it seemed like a good idea!” & I was also curious about the state of poetry throughout the Blogworld, whether beyond a few specialist sites was there an interest for poetry?. Well, I got my answer, and damn my cynicism, poke my eyes out with  metaphors, line up an array of verbs, armed to the teeth with rhyme & simile & then plague my ears with onomatopoeia. I was wrong, no not quite right, I WAS WRONG, better, we did fantastic, even those sites that claimed not to like poetry, had poetry they loved. So..I got to thinking that as I enjoyed this a lot, I would post a poem every month, as a regular part of my blog, under the title POMES ALL SIZES, which is a title I’ve borrowed, nay stolen from Jack Kerouac, so it only seems fair that in payment I start with a poem from the man.
Born in Lowell, Massachusetts on the 12th March 1922, Jack Kerouac was  the youngest  child of French-Canadian immigrants from Quebec. Although better  known for his novels, Kerouac is also associated with poetry of the Beat movement, including spoken word. Kerouac wrote that he wanted "to be considered as a jazz poet blowing a long blues in an afternoon jazz session on Sunday”.
     COGNAC BLUES.
You get your just dues in
Heaven--------------Heaven’ll
be indifferent to this
indifferent dog
(Yet, honest indifference
were better than cant)

…….really
When I hear pious
bullshit about justice
& democracy and I know
the hypocrites are lying
in their false teeth
I’m not indifferent to God,
I’m indifferent to
me-on-earth
I cant think of anything
more ridiculous than me
on earth----
Really!
                                                   
Oh, here's another little one, just because I liked it
HAIKU 
Came down from my
ivory tower
And found no world.
                                                      Jack Kerouac.

If you have a Poem/ Poet, you admire please introduce them to me.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Lit-Blog-Hop.

Welcome to this week's Literary Blog Hop hosted by The Blue Bookcase, the ladies have posed yet another conundrum for us to ponder over . . . . .

What is one of your literary pet peeves? 

Is there something that writers do that really sets your teeth on edge?  Be specific, and give examples if you can.Que

 

Now this has flummoxed me! There was I, sure of my critical faculty, of my innate understanding of the very essence of literature, not just of those bits that bask in sunlight, but those that dwell in the very darkest, winding passages of Pandemonium (capitol of Hell). But those ladies at The Blue Bookcase have called my bluff, have shown me up to be a callow, unfledged being with little regard to the finer points of our world.

Now, I thought, that I was just laid back, relaxed, yes I can wonder why an author went off at a sudden tangent, has appeared to swerve right off track, but as long as they do find a way back, I’m happy to follow sometimes the side trails offer the greatest adventure (Pynchon, Bolano). Also dialect, as long as it helps define the character, places the individual in a specific setting, I have no problem with it in fact I recently read,  Irvine Welsh’s- Reheated Cabbage (Tales of chemical degeneration), which was written partly in the dialect of Leith, Scotland and once I picked up the rhythm I loved it.

So where does that leave me and my Bookish ego? can I really find nothing that I can attack and in doing so restore my sense of self. Well, I don't like books that have pages with just a few lines on them - you know, you turn the page and there is just three lines then, blank, followed by a blank page before the next chapter – this can make the book appear to be longer than it is and more importantly heavier to carry around. It seems a bit petty, but it does count, doesn’t it, say it does - it would make me feel so much better.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Edited by James Patrick Kelly & John kessel

   The  Secret History  of Science  Fiction.   

This collection of short  stories, raises the question what if Thomas Pynchon's "Gravity's Rainbow" had won the Nebula award in 1973, instead of Arthur. C. Clarke’s “Rendezvous with Rama. It was nominated for the award.Would the fact that a landmarked work of postmodern  fiction won, have changed anything. Would the future distinction between literary fiction and science fiction have been erased?  This ingeniously conceived anthology raises this question, by plotting  an alternate history of speculative fiction and by arguing  that the lines between genres have long been obscured.

By using this device the editors can demonstrate their reasoning, and by showcasing a selection of authors that perfectly prove that great fiction cannot be categorized,this volume aptly demonstrates that great science fiction appears in many guises.

The anthology, starts with an introduction, where the editors set forth their argument, using a 1998 essay published in the Village Voice by Jonathan Lethem as their starting point. In this essay, titled “Close encounters: the squandered promise of science fiction” Lethem states that the moment Pynchon lost was a “Tombstone marking the death of the hope that Science Fiction was about to merge with the mainstream”     

After this appears 19 short stories,prefaced by a quote from each of the featured authors, and by allowing the individual authors, the chance express their own  point of view, the editors make their cause, that much stronger. So in light of this I’ll add a quote with each story, although as each story has at least a quote  from two of the authors, I will pick my favourites.

These tales cross genre's as you & I cross roads

Angouleme – Thomas. M. Disch.

[A group of bored teenagers plan to murder an old man, but it’s purely bravado, not meant to happen]

“Realistic fiction leaves out far, far too much. How old is realistic fiction? How old is fantasy?” - Gene Wolfe

The ones who walk away from Omelas – Ursula. K. Le Guin.

[what would you pay for your happiness]

“At this point, realism is perhaps the least adequate means of understanding or portraying the incredible realities of our existence…..” – Ursula. k. Le Guin

Ladies & Gentlemen, this is your crisis – Kate Wilhelm.

[Is this the future of reality TV & how will it shape our thought processes.]

“I think it’s difficult for a novelist nowadays to write without irony about a way of life that's fulfilling or satisfying. I think that in America today it’s not easy to see that way of life without being grossly sentimental or blocking out certain realities. It’s a paradox. I suppose if we knew it, we’d all be living it. But I do think it’s necessary  to try to imagine that. It’s extremely difficult.” – John kessel.

Descent of Man – T.C. Boyle.

[A man loses his wife to a Chimpanzee, who happens to be a genius,who has translated Nietzsche’s “Beyond good and evil” and Chomsky’s “Language and mind”]

“Art is supposed to be unconventional which is why I detest genre writing of all kinds. I mean, it’s comforting for people who read it--- but they are morons. (LAUGHS). Because they know that Joe will get murdered & somebody else will figure out why or how. Or some spy will figure out how to prevent terrorists from taking over the world. I don’t really care. it doesn’t interest me. I want to be taken away to a different place every time.” – T.C. Boyle.

Human moments in world war III – Don Delillo.

[ In this we follow the interactions of 2 astronauts, floating above the planet whilst war rages on below them]

“Technology is our fate, our truth. It is what we mean when we call ourselves the only superpower on the planet. The materials & methods we devise make it possible for us to claim the future. We don’t have to depend on God or the prophets or other astonishments. We are the astonishment. The miracle is what we ourselves produce, the systems & networks that change the way we live & think.” – Don Delillo

Homelanding –Margaret Atwood.

[A woman, probably human, tries to describe her planet and her species to the member of another civilization.]

“Not all science fiction is “science”----science occurs in it as a plot-driver, a tool--- but all of it is fiction. This narrative  form has always been with us: it used to be the kind with angels & devils in it. It is the gateway to the shadowiest &  also the brightest part of the human imaginative world…..” –Margaret Atwood

The nine billion names of God- Carter Scholz.

[A writer submits a story that is the exact replica of a classic work by Arthur.C. Clark. An exchange of letters with an editor ensues, in which the writer claims that although the words are the same,  the context, hence the meaning is different.](Pure Borges).

Fiction is an adventure or it’s nothing --- nothing at all. What’s an adventure? An invitation to wonder & danger. If what I write doesn’t  lead a reader into the woods, away from the main path, then it’s a failure. Somebody else wrote it. I disown it. – Steven Millhauser

 Interlocking pieces – Molly Gloss.

[this is a beautiful story about personal disaster and trying to reach some understanding, and acceptance.]

“A librarian in the library of Babel, a wizard unable to cast a spell; a spaceship having trouble getting to Alpha Centauri: all these may be precise & profound  metaphors of the human condition……” – Ursula. K. Le Guin.

Salvador – Lucius Shepard.

[An American soldier in the Jungles of Salvador, After taking too much drugs,  has a mystic experience and ends up killing his platoon. Months later, back in civilian  life, the experience still plays  heavily on his mind]

“Stories that spring to me from landscapes, from settings. When I go to a place like Honduras or Nicaragua, &  a story occurs to me, I’m not going to take it out of its context, because it’s a story particular to that place & time.” – Lucius Shepard

Schwarzschild Radius – Connie Willis.

[This tale draws a line between the horrors of trench warfare (WW1) & the theoretical workings of black hole.] 

“I don’t want to define science fiction because there’s a basic assumption when you ask somebody to define a genre. The word genre in French means species, & you can define a species, for example, by the fact that cats can’t interbreed with dogs…….. It’s hard to imagine that a Chihuahua & a Great Dane are the same species & they can interbreed, but they can’t with a Fox….. That's not true of genres in literature. They aren’t definable because they aren’t fixed in the same way.” – Maureen McHugh.

Buddha Nostril Bird – John Kessel.

[This is an Arabian nights tale,  dealing with identity & what one can know (Empirical / Apriori) ?]

“How comfortable are we, thinking of ourselves as artists? There’s no question that we’re artists, but it’s something we’re uncomfortable thinking about because of the pulp fiction creation myth “It came from the gutter” We were raised out of the mud of the pulps & have  yet  to achieve the same status as Updike, Joyce Carol Oates & all” – James Patrick Kelly

The Ziggurat – Gene Wolfe.

[This story features a  marriage disintegrating , a bitter custody dispute, and the visit of time travellers from the future]

“Memory is all we have. The present is a knifes edge & the future doesn’t really exist (that’s why SF writers can set all these strange stories there, because it’s no place. it hasn’t come into being).So memory’s ability to reconnect us with the past, or some version of it, is all we have.” – Gene Wolfe

The Hardened Criminals – Jonathan Lethem.

[A young criminal is sent to a prison where dangerous inmates are literally hardened: they become living bricks as part of the  prison walls and some of them can still talk, with varying degrees of sanity.]

“My intention was that the book (Sarah Canary) would read like a Sci-Fi  novel to a Sci-Fi reader, & that it would read like a mainstream novel to a mainstream reader, which is the point, that you bring your own perceptions to everything in a very compelling sort of way.” – Karen Joy Fowler.

Standing room only – Karen Joy Fowler.

[The assassination of President Lincoln, seen through the eyes of the daughter of Mary Suratt, who runs a boarding house & frequents the same circles as actor John Wilkes Booth.]

“What I find exciting is the idea that no work of fiction will ever, ever come close to “documenting” life. So then, the purpose of it must be otherwise. It’s supposed to  do something to us to make it easier ( or more fun, or less painful) for us to live….” – George Saunders.

10.16 to 1 – James Patrick Kelly.

[Cross, a time traveller,  fails in his mission and has to rely  on a young boy to kill a man and prevent WWIII from happening.]

“It’s less true of other art forms, but for some reason with writers in particular we want to know where to stick them, where to shelve them……”. – Michael Chabon.

93990 – George Saunders

[a clinical  account of a series of (pointless?) experiments performed on monkeys, in the name of science. ]

“Sometimes the best way to look closely at an object is to remove it from its natural surroundings, study it in isolation. We do that in science fiction; often we transport the here & now to somewhere else, another time.Sometimes we stay here & change the time, or change the background to get a closer, clearer view” – Kate Wilhelm  

The Martian Agent, A planetary romance – Michael Chabon.

[This is the story of two young brothers. Whose father is pursued by the army as a traitor of the British Empire, they are caught & imprisoned in  some kind of reform home, until their uncle, a renowned engineer, comes to their rescue in a flying ship.]

“The positive side of  the ghettoization of the fantastic is that writers within that ghetto have done a lot of exploring & defining. Jazz was not invented by high culture……” – John Kessel.

Frankenstein’s Daughter -  Maureen. F. McHugh.

How society reacts to a family who has a cloned daughter: a 6-year-old mentally delayed child who is in constant need of attention (medical & otherwise). 

“For those who resist the notion that the mainstream is a genre, we recommend that they browse  the shelves of their local bookstore. For if the mainstream is not a genre, then it must necessarily embrace all kinds of writing: romance, adventure, horror, thriller, crime, and, yes, science fiction.” – James Patrick Kelly & John Kessel.

The wizard of West Orange – Steven Millhauser. 

Set in the 19th century, this is the diary of a man who works for a company (Edison?) that invents new devices. One of the devices “The Haptograph” can replicate the sense of  touch (the feel of a feather, kiss etc.)  But it has the capacity to explore new combinations, with serious consequences.

“I’m fanatically reluctant to say that fiction ought to do one thing rather than another. I do know what I want from fiction. I want it to exhilarate me, to unbind my eyes, to murder & resurrect me, to harm me in some fruitful way. But that said, yes, the journey into intense feeling & the conquest of unknown emotional territory is something fiction can make possible.” – Steven Millhauser

 These tales cross genre's as you & I cross roads

“What we normally consider the mainstream — so called realistic fiction — is a small literary genre, fairly recent in origin, which is likely to be relatively short lived. It’s a matter of whether you’re content to focus on everyday events or whether you want to try to encompass the entire universe. If you go back to the literature written in ancient Greece or Rome, or during the Middle Ages and much of the Renaissance, you’ll see writers trying to write not just about everything that exists but about everything that could exist.” – Gene Wolfe.

In this collection, the editors have an array of writers lined up, with the one aim,  “to explore the possibility of an alternate history of speculative fiction” yet what you get from reading this anthology, is that the lines between genres have long been obscured, in fact from the earliest days the boundaries have had traffic from both sides. I will leave the last words to a writer  whose ideas are never constrained by borders or boundaries, whose muse is equally at home in a spacesuit or in Armani.

“The novel of ideas. The novel of manners. The novel of grim witness. The novel of pure dreaming. The novel of excess. The novel of unreadability. The comic novel.  The romance novel. The epistolary novel. The promising first novel. The sad patchwork, grave robbing, over-my-dead-body posthumous novel. The suspense novel. The crime novel. The experimental novel. The historical novel. The novel of meticulous observations. The novel of marital revenge. The beach novel. The war novel. The anti-war novel. The post-war novel. The out of print novel. The novel that sells to the movies before it’s written. The novel that critics like to say they want to throw across the room. The science fiction novel. The metafiction novel. The death of the novel. The novel that changes your life because you are young and open-hearted and eager to take an existential leap. – Don Delillo.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

POETRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (literary Bloghop)

Welcome to this week's Literary Blog Hop hosted by The Blue Bookcase!
This blog hop is open to blogs that primarily feature book reviews of literary fiction, classic literature, and general literary discussion.
This week's question comes from Gary at Parrish Lantern:
What is your favourite poem and why?

Oh dear, me & my big mouth (That’s me!), when I suggested this, it seemed such a fantastic idea, I mean, my favourite book of poems is Crow, by Ted Hughes, which I’ve written about before, this is such a powerfully cohesive book, rampaging across the world of myth, classic literature & anything else Crow can rip open. Crow is an embodiment of vitality that challenges the supremacy of Death. Shortly after Ted Hughes's wife, Sylvia Plath, committed suicide in 1963, the American artist Leonard Baskin, in an attempt to engage the poet, asked Hughes to write poems to accompany a series of sketches. The sketches were of crows. Hughes, however, did not begin writing the poems until the mid-1960s.
This makes it hard to pick a singular poem, but for those ladies at The blue bookcase I tried.
Crows Theology.
Crow realized God Loved him--
otherwise he would have dropped dead.crow
so that was proved.
Crow reclining, Marvelling, on his heartbeat.

And he realized that god spoke crow--
Just existing was His revelation.

But what
Loved the stones & spoke stone
they seemed to exist too.
and what spoke that strange silence
After his clamour of caws faded?

And what loved the shot-pellets
That dribbled from those strung-up mummifying crows?
what spoke the silence of lead?

Crow realized there were two Gods----

One of them much bigger than the other
Loving his enemies
And having all the weapons.  Ted Hughes.

But as I said this is a collection, a cohesive whole, although the poems do stand up on their own, it works best, as a series of story-poems. So what is my favourite poem? I though about Octavio Paz something like….
Dist0811208990_01__SX220_SCLZZZZZZZ_ant neighbour
                 Last night an ash-tree
                  was about to say--
                  but it didn’t . Octavio Paz

which I love, but I’ve absolutely no reason why.
His works include the poetry collections ¿Águila o sol? (1951), La Estación Violenta, (1956), Piedra de Sol (1957), and in English translation the most prominent include two volumes which include most of Paz in English: Early Poems: 1935–1955 (tr. 1974), and Collected Poems, 1957–1987 (1987). Many of these volumes have been edited and translated by Eliot Weinberger , who is Paz's principal translator into American English.
Or perhaps one from a collection of love poems by Brian Patten. This book of poetry came to me, around the time I met my wife, I’d been sworn off relationships for quite a while (Bad breakup, Kids etc.), thinking I was being honest, but, in hindsight quite callous. When meeting anyone new I’d make it clear that this was fun, nothing more & could be nothing more, the woman who is now my wife didn’t just change that, she created a reality, where fun, breathing, her ,were so entwined nothing else mattered.
Park Note
Disgusted by the weight of his own sorrow
I saw one evening
a stranger open wide his coat 1335396m
and taking out from under it his heart
throw the thing away.


Away over the railings, out across the parks,
across the lakes and the grasses,
as if after much confusion
he had decided not to care but


to move on lightly, carelessly,
amazed and with a grin upon his face
that seemed to say, Absurd
how easy that was done.  Brian Patten
Patten's style is generally lyrical and his subjects are primarily love and relationships. His 1981 collection Love Poems draws together his best work in this area from the previous sixteen years. Tribune has described Patten as "the master poet of his genre, taking on the intricacies of love and beauty with a totally new approach, new for him and for contemporary poetry." Charles Causley once commented that he "reveals a sensibility profoundly aware of the ever-present possibility of the magical and the miraculous, as well as of the granite-hard realities. These are undiluted poems, beautifully calculated, informed - even in their darkest moments - with courage and hope." Wikipedia
Then finally a poem from a collection by Lawrence Durrell
Niki
ld collpoems  Love on a leave-of-absence came
  Unmoored the silence like a barge,
  set free to float on lagging webs
  The swan-black wise unhindered night.
 
  (Bitter and pathless were the ways
  of sleep to which such beauty led.)  Lawrence Durrell

Durrell's poetry has been overshadowed by his novels. Peter Porter, in his introduction to a Selected Poems, writes of Durrell as a poet: "one of the best of the past hundred years. And one of the most enjoyable." He goes on to describe Durrell's poetry as "always beautiful as sound and syntax. Its innovation lies in its refusal to be more high-minded than the things it records, together with its handling of the whole lexicon of language." Wikipedia
When I was about 16 ish, I wanted to write a novel in the style of this authors “Black Book”, I tried & with the assistance of cognac (this was vital to get that decadent real life feel), I managed about 40 pages before it died, I felt sick & I realised through a befuddled pain cloaked miasma, that this was harder than it looked . Despite that, this collection of poems, & Niki in particular, has remained with me, in fact it’s one of a few poems I can quote without even thinking about it. So by this process of elimination my favourite poem is………………
one of the above,
Possibly.
thanks again to the fine ladies at The Blue Bookcase & am waiting with anticipation, to see what they spring next.
The Parrish Lantern.