I laugh at myself. This book is going to be one of those that is suddenly finished. I am far from that point but today I began to recognize the signs and decided to go with it. Write until it says stop. If there is a story I will find it in rewrite. I just spent hours putting the psychiatric community on the rack. It's not fair they have no defense and after some time your arms just get tired from hitting them at will for so long. I admit it is fun for the first few minutes.
I think I discovered one of the truths that run through this octopus of a thing and that is 'conformity'. How we do until we don't. It won't run deep but it is there just like throwing stones at organized religion in 'Maacland' and 'Magick'. In fact it has been there all along and I just didn't see it, all the way back to 'Four and a Half Hours'. Which means it has to predate Tofino and really I had moved to Vancouver only weeks before that. The suggestion is obvious.
'Dancing Bears' was a revelatory work dealing with my father's death. Fiction, I masked it as my best friend in the story, which was huge in implication and inference all by itself; book three in a five book series. Only in the NPR interview did I realize it was also my post-mortem for Dale Sherritt, my real best friend, really dead. It was 'life is like that' and the interview remains my favorite. The symbolism and life never larger it was a fresh breeze and boy did it feel good. It felt great! I treat the 'Dee Trilogy' as a gratuitous indulgence to myself and not a literary achievement which gives me a wide berth for lavish selfish affection. It was also a love song for Sharon (you know it, I've told you, stop blushing and enough protest) and was as perfect as I will likely ever get.
This 'one' has the potential to approach the meaningfulness of 'that'. I doubt whether I will be able to bring the honest truth out, my father's failings as the ridiculous yardstick I hold as the measure of my own life but it is a story I should tell; maybe just not yet but this could well be the cat out of the bag. It didn't seem such a joke in my youth or my prime but now that many decisions have been made and the results known it is easier to allow myself the vanity of acknowledging how deeply it affected me and the price of being right is often never worth it. The way I just exhaled and paused to pat my knees tells me yes that is it. Now what do I do? Mother is alive and what does that say to her now too late for her to interpret with anything but pain. For what and to what end? This too has been a struggle.
I knew I was on the right path today when I nailed 'silent killer'. Not as advertised but another one and not the least bit different than 'What is man?' and 'Who am I?' The genre may be 'existential angst' and that is why the 'romance' handle may weigh so heavily. Yes it is. Believe it or not this has been another circle. If I am correct in my assessment of 'Magick' as a 'sixties' retrospective (I am) then this 'one' is too or at least in the same vein (yesterday's 'veins popping').
'Sometimes a Great Notion' was Ken Kesey's second novel published in 1964. His first, from 1962 was "one Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest'. Kesey described himself as the link between the 'Beat' generation and the 'Hippies'. 'Sometimes' has been voted number one on a list of the twelve essential Northwest works. I agree it is the quintessential work on the Northwest. That was my Tofino. Ken Kesey equals Tom Wolfe equals Jack Kerouac equals Timothy Leary equals everything I have written. 'Sometimes' is a 'never give an inch' story, union busting loggers in Oregon trying to make a buck and stay alive. The other day I posted something about 'nobility'; it is no accident, they all add up. The 'doll' part a stretch but not really and even 'Film Noir' hangs in the air.
Sometimes I am just in the zone.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Film Noir
Just watch “Out of the Past,” starring Robert Mitchum and Jane Greer, and you’ll see. The only moments of true tenderness involve women lighting cigarettes for men and men lighting cigarettes for each other.
That excerpt is from today's 'editorial' section of 'The New York Times. It describes a genre that exists only in looking back. A time when film-making followed conventions of that day and for a while all said much the same thing. 'Men were men and women were dames' or broads, my favorite. Colour changed things but we later learned it didn't have to. 'China Town' reminded us and 'Pulp Fiction' was the modern mirror. 'Doll' is not popular and has not been for a very long time well before Uma's rendition and one of the reasons that film scores so highly with men. Although it is not my point I must formally nod to Dick Dale, his music is the perfect note to paint brash and arrogant strokes of testosterone. The article nailed me in my tracks and forced me to examine my own work and ask tough questions like what is 'noble' and is my life up to my standards. You see 'standards' are the thing. We develop them at a young age and they are not flexible. When our vision was crisp and intuitive we decided what the world was and how we would interface. I don't mean 'what are we going to be when we grow up' but rather 'who'. Yes I know 'conditioning' and 'product of society' thinking; I embrace the philosophy and always have. You cannot distance yourself from the life you were brought into but it is our response that defines us and we started to calibrate our interpretations at somewhere around nine years old. Not even a decade into our run and now we are well into the race. I've outgrown the 'who ever dies with the most toys wins' stage. That was not an outlook just an explanation for our consumerism. It is not a mad dash it is a marathon and 'Film Noir' captured the essence of our nature. That is why it is important that we do not let it die.
Anyhow that's how I chose to interpret the article. A lot of words to say what?
The Film Noir Foundation
That excerpt is from today's 'editorial' section of 'The New York Times. It describes a genre that exists only in looking back. A time when film-making followed conventions of that day and for a while all said much the same thing. 'Men were men and women were dames' or broads, my favorite. Colour changed things but we later learned it didn't have to. 'China Town' reminded us and 'Pulp Fiction' was the modern mirror. 'Doll' is not popular and has not been for a very long time well before Uma's rendition and one of the reasons that film scores so highly with men. Although it is not my point I must formally nod to Dick Dale, his music is the perfect note to paint brash and arrogant strokes of testosterone. The article nailed me in my tracks and forced me to examine my own work and ask tough questions like what is 'noble' and is my life up to my standards. You see 'standards' are the thing. We develop them at a young age and they are not flexible. When our vision was crisp and intuitive we decided what the world was and how we would interface. I don't mean 'what are we going to be when we grow up' but rather 'who'. Yes I know 'conditioning' and 'product of society' thinking; I embrace the philosophy and always have. You cannot distance yourself from the life you were brought into but it is our response that defines us and we started to calibrate our interpretations at somewhere around nine years old. Not even a decade into our run and now we are well into the race. I've outgrown the 'who ever dies with the most toys wins' stage. That was not an outlook just an explanation for our consumerism. It is not a mad dash it is a marathon and 'Film Noir' captured the essence of our nature. That is why it is important that we do not let it die.
Anyhow that's how I chose to interpret the article. A lot of words to say what?
The Film Noir Foundation
Friday, February 4, 2011
Karen Stintz
She is the new TTC Chair. Surely you've seen her on local news clips recently what with the TTC union agreement expiring March 31. I think she is great and watch, she is going to be a star. The is the best politician I have seen on the Ontario stage in the past six years. Mark my words.
Another example to my thread, started yesterday, about how my life is one connected dot after another is this (and I don't try to make this happen; it juts does).
Checking out what 'TCM' is showing over the next couple of days for it '30 days of Oscar' I noticed 'Mourning becomes Electra'. Not the first time I have ever heard of this film it has one of those titles that sticks to my skin like 'Electra Glide in Blue'; 'Electra' may be the key. But on this day the movie that was jogged in my memory bank was 'The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds'. Another film from 1972 stored for it's title not it's content but I remember that it was disturbing. Research was needed.
"Mourning' an update of a Greek Tragedy and "Electra' a complex. Link, it is Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung. 'Freud', for the record (ask O'Neill or maybe Quinn), a pivotal discovery in my young academic life that changed the course of my life, forever.
Digging deeper I laughed while reading an account of 'Freud' opposite 'Electra'. 'Freud' had come professionally to label women as the second sex and cited most of his personal-professional experience with them as 'psychological degenerates'. If you know anything about 'Freud' this is a wildly interesting tag. One which would make me laugh.
Satisfied that I understood the Greek original I followed my original line of thinking to 'The Effects....' title and was surprised that Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward were involved and whose daughter was one of the stars, namely 'Nell Potts'. Where had I heard her name? More research and I find a historical link to 'Alice Waters'. Her I most definitely know and her restaurant 'Chez Panisse' in Berkley.
'Alice' is very good friends with 'Mikhail Baryshnikov' and together they were featured in one of 'Sundance's' 'Iconoclasts' segments. Sufficiently moved after having seen that original broadcast I wrote Sharon to share what she would also consider to be a perfect convergence of art forms. So struck by the story it told I pirated a few words from the interview and one of it's sub-story lines. Specifically the children's book about dance and the famous conclusion 'Because'. It was 'Because' that became my dedication page in 'Magick' and which I later I explained in detail in the NPR interview.
This was not a self-determined search. It was merely following tangential links in thinking made fast and easy with 'Wikipedia'. It was just like this that I 'got to' Holland and 'Maacland'. When seemingly you experience stuff like this every day it is difficult for me not to imagine them as signs and mileposts. When you are tripping over symbols it is impossible to resist the notion that your express purpose for being here, now, is to capture it in words and tell the story that apparently is begging you to write.
Within this context are 'leaps of faith', the kind where I sit down and begin to let the air out. Whatever it is, it is supposed to be and all I have to do is watch for the signs. I can guarantee you when this is finished you will recognize a little bit of what you are feeling but have not yet understood how to see.
It begins with Lisa.
Another example to my thread, started yesterday, about how my life is one connected dot after another is this (and I don't try to make this happen; it juts does).
Checking out what 'TCM' is showing over the next couple of days for it '30 days of Oscar' I noticed 'Mourning becomes Electra'. Not the first time I have ever heard of this film it has one of those titles that sticks to my skin like 'Electra Glide in Blue'; 'Electra' may be the key. But on this day the movie that was jogged in my memory bank was 'The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds'. Another film from 1972 stored for it's title not it's content but I remember that it was disturbing. Research was needed.
"Mourning' an update of a Greek Tragedy and "Electra' a complex. Link, it is Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung. 'Freud', for the record (ask O'Neill or maybe Quinn), a pivotal discovery in my young academic life that changed the course of my life, forever.
Digging deeper I laughed while reading an account of 'Freud' opposite 'Electra'. 'Freud' had come professionally to label women as the second sex and cited most of his personal-professional experience with them as 'psychological degenerates'. If you know anything about 'Freud' this is a wildly interesting tag. One which would make me laugh.
Satisfied that I understood the Greek original I followed my original line of thinking to 'The Effects....' title and was surprised that Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward were involved and whose daughter was one of the stars, namely 'Nell Potts'. Where had I heard her name? More research and I find a historical link to 'Alice Waters'. Her I most definitely know and her restaurant 'Chez Panisse' in Berkley.
'Alice' is very good friends with 'Mikhail Baryshnikov' and together they were featured in one of 'Sundance's' 'Iconoclasts' segments. Sufficiently moved after having seen that original broadcast I wrote Sharon to share what she would also consider to be a perfect convergence of art forms. So struck by the story it told I pirated a few words from the interview and one of it's sub-story lines. Specifically the children's book about dance and the famous conclusion 'Because'. It was 'Because' that became my dedication page in 'Magick' and which I later I explained in detail in the NPR interview.
This was not a self-determined search. It was merely following tangential links in thinking made fast and easy with 'Wikipedia'. It was just like this that I 'got to' Holland and 'Maacland'. When seemingly you experience stuff like this every day it is difficult for me not to imagine them as signs and mileposts. When you are tripping over symbols it is impossible to resist the notion that your express purpose for being here, now, is to capture it in words and tell the story that apparently is begging you to write.
Within this context are 'leaps of faith', the kind where I sit down and begin to let the air out. Whatever it is, it is supposed to be and all I have to do is watch for the signs. I can guarantee you when this is finished you will recognize a little bit of what you are feeling but have not yet understood how to see.
It begins with Lisa.
Monday, January 31, 2011
American:Class of 76
'Ford' was still president and for Ex-Pats who found themselves in the hollow north of the 49th parallel it was the 'American Women's Club' who made sure right hands were placed over hearts. If it wasn't science fiction it was as close as I will ever come to fantasy and I say that with utmost respect. Me not the American, would have traded citizenship on a dime that year if it were at all possible. One of my life's greatest disappointments was that my children could not attain Dual-Citizenship at birth. I was crossing the border by the virtue of marriage and into a good family. I have never forgotten what that summer meant to me but in the roundabout way life has of shaking free cobwebs I am there again.
'Pater' in this case stands as a symbol not likely to be repeated any time soon. What wasn't already 'rooted' was moved from Texas to Toronto as the finishing touches were applied to his makeup. Hand-picked and backed by board consensus R.W. was to be the next President & CEO for a Grandaddy of the Canadian Corporate landscape. One of a very very few business empires that was born here and had grown into a Global Giant. 'Blue Chip' on both sides of the border and annual sales eclipsing 2 Billion dollars, U.S. Back when a 'Billion' really meant something.
The U.S. market was it's biggest share but all other foreign positions significant enough to classify it amongst the elite and premiere Multinationals. The U.K., Europe, Japan and South America all passing topics at one time or another around the Sunday table and the political leaders of the day assessed on intellectual merit. My emphasis was on listening, my best hope to keep up and learn. This was not enough to immerse but the wide-eye training prepared my mind.
Hard to believe that this is where I find myself but the truth is the greatest gift this relationship gave me was access to the library of books held in the study. The man was a reader and there they were. It was a classic education in American Contemporary Thought. 'Drucker' to 'Vonnegut' and if I tired 'Michener' or 'Leon Uris' to lighten things up.
'Patriotism' was not something I was familiar with aside from Canada-Russia in 1972 and that is different, closer to cheering for 'Madden and The Raiders' on Sunday afternoon. Come to think of it, as happy and proud that I was that Canada had won, my favorite player had been 'Kharlamov' and I was ashamed by Canada's criminal strategy to neutralize him. So 'patriotism' not so much in my nature.
By now we all know that when America decides to throw a party it will be hard to match. 1976 was a celebration and I wore the flag with pride. This 'turn' would see me make some interesting career choices, working for U.S. Corporations and being 'The American' in the Canadian Subsidiary. My behaviour/demeanor would have been enough to make me stand out I think but that somehow I had an intrinsic understanding of a U.S. business plan I rapidly became a 'Key Interpreter' and indispensable example of 'The Spirit of the Program'. I have been rarely happier than sitting down in a U.S. board room. My crowning moment taking over the 'Pacific Northwest Unit' and driving 'Alaska' to the top of Division rankings.
There is hardly anything more 'American' than the 'Alaskan' business experience. Comparisons to 'The Lower 48' are not allowed and every other person is from 'Oklahoma'. Asked to explain Canada and I found that I could not without using some reference to 'socialism'. The nearest I ever got to an accurate rationalization was that 'Canada was a really big geographic landmass with not a lot of people, all of whom eager to live an 'American' lifestyle to which governments agreed and subsidized without the revenue to afford'. They 'got' that. I stop short of 'Fifty-First' state preferring instead that west of the Rockies has more in common with Washington and Oregon; Alberta and Saskatchewan with the Dakota's and Montana; Manitoba and Minnesota; Ontario in New York and the Eastern Seaboard as one. Quebec I wish I could line you up with Louisiana but in my equation you get what you want, Separate.
That our foreign policy mimics the U.S. (albeit sometimes poorly) suggests to me what the rest of the world already seems to know; Canada, really, doesn't matter.
I sure love our health-care and without it I'd be in sad shape but in case you haven't been paying attention, guess what, we can't afford it. 'Harper' has been moving us away from it slowly and a two-tier solution is already flourishing yet it is against the law. I see it in Ontario though still only in pockets and in Alberta and to a lesser extent in British Colombia, it is only thinly veiled. A well known former Provincial Premier flew into The States for surgery; it made domestic headlines but no one was surprised and judging by the reaction there was no outrage. 'Goddamn lucky for him' or 'I wish I had his millions' closer to the truth I think. Hospitals have been closing for over a decade and we all should know by now that if you choose to live very far from a major urban center your health-care solution is not at your back door and neither is your milk.
Our National Leaders point to Vancouver and the success of the Olympics as signs of a maturing identity. Hmm, yes there might be something to that. I was involved in the recent games; organization, back-room, behind the cameras stuff from the days before being named the winning host 'City' They were awarded to 'Vancouver', a city very nearly evenly split on whether this was an event 'they' wanted to pay for. The cheering in the streets and the stands had as much to do with being happy that we didn't screw it up and that it had stopped raining long enough that 'NBC' could get some great camera shots of what anyone in British Colombia is really proud of; the truly breathtaking beauty of the mountains and ocean. Unless 'Nature' fits your definition of the 'Bricks and Mortar' used in building a country, what took place in 'Vancouver' was not 'Canada's' show. My suspicion is that the 'flag-waving' taking place across the border had more to do with 'penis envy'. For anyone born in this country all we ever really want is to be 'American'. Think I am wrong?
What are you watching on television tonight?
'Pater' in this case stands as a symbol not likely to be repeated any time soon. What wasn't already 'rooted' was moved from Texas to Toronto as the finishing touches were applied to his makeup. Hand-picked and backed by board consensus R.W. was to be the next President & CEO for a Grandaddy of the Canadian Corporate landscape. One of a very very few business empires that was born here and had grown into a Global Giant. 'Blue Chip' on both sides of the border and annual sales eclipsing 2 Billion dollars, U.S. Back when a 'Billion' really meant something.
The U.S. market was it's biggest share but all other foreign positions significant enough to classify it amongst the elite and premiere Multinationals. The U.K., Europe, Japan and South America all passing topics at one time or another around the Sunday table and the political leaders of the day assessed on intellectual merit. My emphasis was on listening, my best hope to keep up and learn. This was not enough to immerse but the wide-eye training prepared my mind.
Hard to believe that this is where I find myself but the truth is the greatest gift this relationship gave me was access to the library of books held in the study. The man was a reader and there they were. It was a classic education in American Contemporary Thought. 'Drucker' to 'Vonnegut' and if I tired 'Michener' or 'Leon Uris' to lighten things up.
'Patriotism' was not something I was familiar with aside from Canada-Russia in 1972 and that is different, closer to cheering for 'Madden and The Raiders' on Sunday afternoon. Come to think of it, as happy and proud that I was that Canada had won, my favorite player had been 'Kharlamov' and I was ashamed by Canada's criminal strategy to neutralize him. So 'patriotism' not so much in my nature.
By now we all know that when America decides to throw a party it will be hard to match. 1976 was a celebration and I wore the flag with pride. This 'turn' would see me make some interesting career choices, working for U.S. Corporations and being 'The American' in the Canadian Subsidiary. My behaviour/demeanor would have been enough to make me stand out I think but that somehow I had an intrinsic understanding of a U.S. business plan I rapidly became a 'Key Interpreter' and indispensable example of 'The Spirit of the Program'. I have been rarely happier than sitting down in a U.S. board room. My crowning moment taking over the 'Pacific Northwest Unit' and driving 'Alaska' to the top of Division rankings.
There is hardly anything more 'American' than the 'Alaskan' business experience. Comparisons to 'The Lower 48' are not allowed and every other person is from 'Oklahoma'. Asked to explain Canada and I found that I could not without using some reference to 'socialism'. The nearest I ever got to an accurate rationalization was that 'Canada was a really big geographic landmass with not a lot of people, all of whom eager to live an 'American' lifestyle to which governments agreed and subsidized without the revenue to afford'. They 'got' that. I stop short of 'Fifty-First' state preferring instead that west of the Rockies has more in common with Washington and Oregon; Alberta and Saskatchewan with the Dakota's and Montana; Manitoba and Minnesota; Ontario in New York and the Eastern Seaboard as one. Quebec I wish I could line you up with Louisiana but in my equation you get what you want, Separate.
That our foreign policy mimics the U.S. (albeit sometimes poorly) suggests to me what the rest of the world already seems to know; Canada, really, doesn't matter.
I sure love our health-care and without it I'd be in sad shape but in case you haven't been paying attention, guess what, we can't afford it. 'Harper' has been moving us away from it slowly and a two-tier solution is already flourishing yet it is against the law. I see it in Ontario though still only in pockets and in Alberta and to a lesser extent in British Colombia, it is only thinly veiled. A well known former Provincial Premier flew into The States for surgery; it made domestic headlines but no one was surprised and judging by the reaction there was no outrage. 'Goddamn lucky for him' or 'I wish I had his millions' closer to the truth I think. Hospitals have been closing for over a decade and we all should know by now that if you choose to live very far from a major urban center your health-care solution is not at your back door and neither is your milk.
Our National Leaders point to Vancouver and the success of the Olympics as signs of a maturing identity. Hmm, yes there might be something to that. I was involved in the recent games; organization, back-room, behind the cameras stuff from the days before being named the winning host 'City' They were awarded to 'Vancouver', a city very nearly evenly split on whether this was an event 'they' wanted to pay for. The cheering in the streets and the stands had as much to do with being happy that we didn't screw it up and that it had stopped raining long enough that 'NBC' could get some great camera shots of what anyone in British Colombia is really proud of; the truly breathtaking beauty of the mountains and ocean. Unless 'Nature' fits your definition of the 'Bricks and Mortar' used in building a country, what took place in 'Vancouver' was not 'Canada's' show. My suspicion is that the 'flag-waving' taking place across the border had more to do with 'penis envy'. For anyone born in this country all we ever really want is to be 'American'. Think I am wrong?
What are you watching on television tonight?
Friday, January 28, 2011
Film Festival Branding
This morning started with a passing thought that morphed into what I imagined would be a simple premise and exercise. The synthesis was not so seamless and nothing like transparent, which is a drag for me, spending far more time on this than planned This is precisely the type glop that wears me out mentally, physically and psychically. Let me tell you about it.
If you pay the mildest attention to arts and entertainment media it has been impossible to avoid this year's 'Sundance Film Festival' coverage. I have been a sucker for celebrity, glitz and glamour since I was a kid tossing footballs under the high wire electrical lines of Toronto's inner-city streets and Joe 'Willy' Namath made headlines for his Superbowl III prediction and playboy lifestyle. Never what I considered to be a cinephile I enjoyed popular film and 'the movie experience' which now seems like it was somewhat easier in my youth. 'The Exorcist', 'Papillon' 'The Sting' and 'Last Tango' from 1973 sandwiched between 'The Godfather', 'Deliverance', 'Cabaret' and 'The Getaway' in 72 and 'Chinatown' in 1974 were all more or less 'must see' because they were interesting and exciting.
Whatever else was happening in my life I slowly accumulated a list of favorites that in retrospect were pretty good films. 'Bullitt', 'The French Connection', 'Hud', 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof', 'Who Is Afraid of Virginia Woolf' and 'the Long Hot Summer' are just a few that I have tucked away. It was not until my stint in Vancouver that my mind's eye shifted and my tastes matured and perspective assumed more depth. I can thank two relationships with very different women for this wider appreciation. On one hand I learned things like 'The Player' boasted the longest continuous shot in cinematic history from one and the intrinsic value in Foreign Films from the other. Film Festivals suddenly became important to me and I slowly moved from the passive audience to front row student.
Back in Toronto, during the last two festival seasons there, my ongoing interest in film opened up and engaged me in the hype and promotion found at the edges of screen. A Yorkville venue made Toronto a good sound stage for foreign press as it is one of Canada's few high-end shopping districts where 'real' money lives and sleeps. Film Festivals are a big part of the marketing machine toward success and celebrities from all corners of 'The Industry' are conscripted to attend and promote their latest work. That Toronto does have some elements of 'world-class' and a local population eager for a 'chance appearance' and a 'brush with fame', the crowds are 'no cost' extras exploited by studios as proof and credibility for 'the work' being showcased. It plays well in the media.
Beyond the hype Toronto's Festival organizers are legitimate voices in the world of cinema evidenced, I think, by the fact that the film jury is largely comprised of Canadian nobodies year after year and still the 'best' picks are usually spot on. The 'Best' picks in Toronto are, for the most part, audience selections amid a scope of films being offered up considered expansive and eclectic, representing excellence and importance across a broad spectrum of disciplines and genres.It is legitimately a good product and deserves most of the homegrown buzz. With all of this in mind, my passing thought this morning was that, in the face of 'Sundance' redirecting it's focus back towards it's original roots, could 'TIFF' emerge as a stronger more significant vehicle for industry self-promotion, increasing Toronto's draw and Festival bragging rights as a 'circuit must'?
Before I could venture my opinion I felt some research was warranted to test what I considered to be true and accurate. Off the top of my subjective head I wrote down the leading Film Festivals both for popularity and industry significance. Let's see, well Cannes for sure, Venice yes, of course Sundance and sort of Vancouver. I looked at what I had written and couldn't believe that was it. I was embarrassed by what little I actually knew. Digging in I wasn't exhaustive in my investigation but thorough enough to state I read up on it. The only additions I made to my list were 'SXSW' and 'Berlin'.
'Berlin' surprised me a little but it made sense. However I cannot recall having ever heard or read anything about it. Held annually in February (no good for a North American audience with Oscars in March) it showcases somewhere in the area of 400 films and has attendance in the range of half a million people. That's pretty significant. This year Isabella Rossellini is the Jury Chair. Last year a film from Turkey won top prize and one from Romania took the silver. 'Roman Polanski' was selected Best Director for 'The Ghost Writer'. Along with Cannes and Venice it is considered one of the 'Big Three' festivals. One of the films that I went to see during TIFF 2010 was a German feature called 'Three' by Tykwer. I considered it to be fabulous and as it's North American Premiere it was sold out. When the screen faded to black there was a standing ovation.The 'World Premiere' had been in Venice and the director informed us during the post-screen discussion that many in the audience there had walked out; evidently the depiction of 'Gay' sex was too explicit and offensive. At a time when 'Six Feet Under' could reach wide critical acclaim it was hard for him to understand. He went on to say that Toronto has always been very kind to his work and wished that our liberal appreciation for art was more universal. I wonder why his 'World Premiere' was not at 'Berlinale' the official name of the German festival.
'SOUTH BY SOUTHWEST' was not strictly a surprise. It gets amazing press and deserves all of it but I knew it only for music.As a film venue my guess is that this event is still evolving. My superficial understanding leads me to believe that this has the potential to parallel Venice in that both seem to have elements of 'Exhibition' 'Festival' and 'Contemporary Art'. "Austin' is hot but Texas in general does not get the kind of exposure you would expect and for Austin to succeed on a film scale, New York and Hollywood need to pull their heads out of their assholes. Believe it or not Toronto, SXSW is the one to watch out for.
Venice, internationally known as 'La Biennnale di Venezia', is the world's oldest and is held every year in late August through the early part of September. This past year it was followed with some controversy that Tarantino, the Jury President, played favorites with his friends and the awards. Top Film was presented to Sofia Coppolla for 'Somewhere'. In 2009 'Lebanon' out of Israel won while Ang Lee presided and in 2008 it was 'The Wrestler' when Wim Wenders sat in the chair. Wenders you may recall was the director for 'Buena Vista Social Club'.
'Cannes' is without doubt the 'Big Daddy' of them all. Spring in the South of France, post Oscars, a May party to kick it off. The 'Palme d'Or' is the prize and in 2010 'Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives' from Thailand was the winner. It was also shown during TIFF and had an extended run at Lightbox. The 'Jury Selection' was 'A Screaming Man' from Chad.
'Sundance' during January in Park City Utah is the champion of Independent Film, Documentary and Shorts. 'SXSW' could very well replace this. Beyond Redford who is driving and Red Carpets on a blanket of snow do not sell. Have you ever heard of 'Berlinale'?
Vancouver or 'VIFF' (It was first with 'IFF'). It runs Late September through Early October and has been kicking it for thirty years. The emphasis is on 'Docs' and South Asian features. It rivals Toronto with 359 films from eighty countries. Last year's winner was "Wasteland' an entry from Rio which is home to the world's largest landfill site.
I know there are others like 'Tribeca' but for now I think this is a New York 'thing' given it is was a post 9-11 tourism response. Like the rest not mentioned 'wait and see' but not soon.
So that's what it looks like from this seat.
For a North American buck I think Toronto could be the next BIG ticket festival but only if Austin does not muscle up first. I like Toronto's chances given it's current position and hope that Piers Handling and Cameron Bailey along with the rest of their staff are up to the challenge. Toronto audiences selected 'The King's Speech' in 2010, 'Precious' in 2009 and 'Slumdog Millionaire' in 2008. All are mainstream and if not exactly vanilla sort of generic winners. What could be more 'West' and 'Best'?
Just in case you were not paying attention.
If you pay the mildest attention to arts and entertainment media it has been impossible to avoid this year's 'Sundance Film Festival' coverage. I have been a sucker for celebrity, glitz and glamour since I was a kid tossing footballs under the high wire electrical lines of Toronto's inner-city streets and Joe 'Willy' Namath made headlines for his Superbowl III prediction and playboy lifestyle. Never what I considered to be a cinephile I enjoyed popular film and 'the movie experience' which now seems like it was somewhat easier in my youth. 'The Exorcist', 'Papillon' 'The Sting' and 'Last Tango' from 1973 sandwiched between 'The Godfather', 'Deliverance', 'Cabaret' and 'The Getaway' in 72 and 'Chinatown' in 1974 were all more or less 'must see' because they were interesting and exciting.
Whatever else was happening in my life I slowly accumulated a list of favorites that in retrospect were pretty good films. 'Bullitt', 'The French Connection', 'Hud', 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof', 'Who Is Afraid of Virginia Woolf' and 'the Long Hot Summer' are just a few that I have tucked away. It was not until my stint in Vancouver that my mind's eye shifted and my tastes matured and perspective assumed more depth. I can thank two relationships with very different women for this wider appreciation. On one hand I learned things like 'The Player' boasted the longest continuous shot in cinematic history from one and the intrinsic value in Foreign Films from the other. Film Festivals suddenly became important to me and I slowly moved from the passive audience to front row student.
Back in Toronto, during the last two festival seasons there, my ongoing interest in film opened up and engaged me in the hype and promotion found at the edges of screen. A Yorkville venue made Toronto a good sound stage for foreign press as it is one of Canada's few high-end shopping districts where 'real' money lives and sleeps. Film Festivals are a big part of the marketing machine toward success and celebrities from all corners of 'The Industry' are conscripted to attend and promote their latest work. That Toronto does have some elements of 'world-class' and a local population eager for a 'chance appearance' and a 'brush with fame', the crowds are 'no cost' extras exploited by studios as proof and credibility for 'the work' being showcased. It plays well in the media.
Beyond the hype Toronto's Festival organizers are legitimate voices in the world of cinema evidenced, I think, by the fact that the film jury is largely comprised of Canadian nobodies year after year and still the 'best' picks are usually spot on. The 'Best' picks in Toronto are, for the most part, audience selections amid a scope of films being offered up considered expansive and eclectic, representing excellence and importance across a broad spectrum of disciplines and genres.It is legitimately a good product and deserves most of the homegrown buzz. With all of this in mind, my passing thought this morning was that, in the face of 'Sundance' redirecting it's focus back towards it's original roots, could 'TIFF' emerge as a stronger more significant vehicle for industry self-promotion, increasing Toronto's draw and Festival bragging rights as a 'circuit must'?
Before I could venture my opinion I felt some research was warranted to test what I considered to be true and accurate. Off the top of my subjective head I wrote down the leading Film Festivals both for popularity and industry significance. Let's see, well Cannes for sure, Venice yes, of course Sundance and sort of Vancouver. I looked at what I had written and couldn't believe that was it. I was embarrassed by what little I actually knew. Digging in I wasn't exhaustive in my investigation but thorough enough to state I read up on it. The only additions I made to my list were 'SXSW' and 'Berlin'.
'Berlin' surprised me a little but it made sense. However I cannot recall having ever heard or read anything about it. Held annually in February (no good for a North American audience with Oscars in March) it showcases somewhere in the area of 400 films and has attendance in the range of half a million people. That's pretty significant. This year Isabella Rossellini is the Jury Chair. Last year a film from Turkey won top prize and one from Romania took the silver. 'Roman Polanski' was selected Best Director for 'The Ghost Writer'. Along with Cannes and Venice it is considered one of the 'Big Three' festivals. One of the films that I went to see during TIFF 2010 was a German feature called 'Three' by Tykwer. I considered it to be fabulous and as it's North American Premiere it was sold out. When the screen faded to black there was a standing ovation.The 'World Premiere' had been in Venice and the director informed us during the post-screen discussion that many in the audience there had walked out; evidently the depiction of 'Gay' sex was too explicit and offensive. At a time when 'Six Feet Under' could reach wide critical acclaim it was hard for him to understand. He went on to say that Toronto has always been very kind to his work and wished that our liberal appreciation for art was more universal. I wonder why his 'World Premiere' was not at 'Berlinale' the official name of the German festival.
'SOUTH BY SOUTHWEST' was not strictly a surprise. It gets amazing press and deserves all of it but I knew it only for music.As a film venue my guess is that this event is still evolving. My superficial understanding leads me to believe that this has the potential to parallel Venice in that both seem to have elements of 'Exhibition' 'Festival' and 'Contemporary Art'. "Austin' is hot but Texas in general does not get the kind of exposure you would expect and for Austin to succeed on a film scale, New York and Hollywood need to pull their heads out of their assholes. Believe it or not Toronto, SXSW is the one to watch out for.
Venice, internationally known as 'La Biennnale di Venezia', is the world's oldest and is held every year in late August through the early part of September. This past year it was followed with some controversy that Tarantino, the Jury President, played favorites with his friends and the awards. Top Film was presented to Sofia Coppolla for 'Somewhere'. In 2009 'Lebanon' out of Israel won while Ang Lee presided and in 2008 it was 'The Wrestler' when Wim Wenders sat in the chair. Wenders you may recall was the director for 'Buena Vista Social Club'.
'Cannes' is without doubt the 'Big Daddy' of them all. Spring in the South of France, post Oscars, a May party to kick it off. The 'Palme d'Or' is the prize and in 2010 'Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives' from Thailand was the winner. It was also shown during TIFF and had an extended run at Lightbox. The 'Jury Selection' was 'A Screaming Man' from Chad.
'Sundance' during January in Park City Utah is the champion of Independent Film, Documentary and Shorts. 'SXSW' could very well replace this. Beyond Redford who is driving and Red Carpets on a blanket of snow do not sell. Have you ever heard of 'Berlinale'?
Vancouver or 'VIFF' (It was first with 'IFF'). It runs Late September through Early October and has been kicking it for thirty years. The emphasis is on 'Docs' and South Asian features. It rivals Toronto with 359 films from eighty countries. Last year's winner was "Wasteland' an entry from Rio which is home to the world's largest landfill site.
I know there are others like 'Tribeca' but for now I think this is a New York 'thing' given it is was a post 9-11 tourism response. Like the rest not mentioned 'wait and see' but not soon.
So that's what it looks like from this seat.
For a North American buck I think Toronto could be the next BIG ticket festival but only if Austin does not muscle up first. I like Toronto's chances given it's current position and hope that Piers Handling and Cameron Bailey along with the rest of their staff are up to the challenge. Toronto audiences selected 'The King's Speech' in 2010, 'Precious' in 2009 and 'Slumdog Millionaire' in 2008. All are mainstream and if not exactly vanilla sort of generic winners. What could be more 'West' and 'Best'?
Just in case you were not paying attention.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Happy Birthday Etta James
Sunday Kind of Love
Great music Thank you Etta.
For most of the past year I have been living to the beat of my own drum. Somehow while in this zone I have been ahead of so many curves I cannot honestly count them. Since I stopped working on 'Level Crossing', taking a break as it were, I haven't been nearly so conscious of my own observations and where they intersect with our western culture. Until today.
Yesterday I rambled on about translators and interpretation and this morning I started reading my latest copy of 'Cinema Scope'. I had been looking forward to the Andrea Picard piece for some time and in an attempt to savour the moment read the essay by 'Jia Zhangke' first. Zhangke is a great Chinese director responsible for 'I Wish I Knew' which premiered ( North America) at TIFF 2010. In his article 'The Bullshit Logic of Patriotism' he recounts his address and introduction to the Toronto audience which required the services of a translator. He qualifies the translator's credentials, in this case a young Chinese woman who emigrated to Canada when she was eight years old, whose colloquial Chinese was excellent but formal speech caused some difficulty. In Zhangke's audience remarks he had stated "a history without details is only abstract" which the translator had trouble finding exactly the right words. Instead in her version it became "a history without details is unclear."
An agitated woman in the audience stood up and shouted that he translator was "distorting the directors words". English to Chinese and back to English and Chinese I guess is the exchange that followed. Zhangke recalls this incident to build the foundation for what are his thoughts on 'Patriotism' and 'Cinema'. It is an interesting article.
This is where I pound my chest. Hear it? Zhangke is an important world voice who happens to be Chinese. I knew absolutely nothing about him or the documentary 'I Wish I Knew" when I lined up for the screening. I bought my ticket on the strength of the images I had seen depicting modern day Shanghai. It looked like how I remember the 'Rust-Belt' in it's glory days with it's filth and decay. China is different from the American experience (which we enjoy here too in Ontario; Quebec and B.C. are unique and separate.) so it is not my intent to draw any inferences what so ever beyond the translated event. In my world view Zhangke is an important figure and what he says given the context of the circumstances should be important in the way that one word can change everything. Based on yesterday's rant, I rest my case.
The weather today in Southern Ontario is quite different from the recent experience. Coincidentally a radio talking head commented that Tuesday mornings are the most depressing of the week. It occurred to me that this might be more true today given relative mild temperature and general gloom of a cloudy day. So what do you think the very next musical selection was? A dreary mellow piece of tripe. This is precisely the time to play something completely different. Something like this:
B-52's
Seems pretty simple to me.
By the way if you ever want to feel humble about what you think you know about film read 'Andrea Picard'. This girl is too much. She blows my mind. I am so glad she works in Toronto; we are lucky and richer for it.
Finally lest I be misunderstood cloudy days are just fine with me especially in winter. This 'gloom' thing is a very Toronto response.
Great music Thank you Etta.
For most of the past year I have been living to the beat of my own drum. Somehow while in this zone I have been ahead of so many curves I cannot honestly count them. Since I stopped working on 'Level Crossing', taking a break as it were, I haven't been nearly so conscious of my own observations and where they intersect with our western culture. Until today.
Yesterday I rambled on about translators and interpretation and this morning I started reading my latest copy of 'Cinema Scope'. I had been looking forward to the Andrea Picard piece for some time and in an attempt to savour the moment read the essay by 'Jia Zhangke' first. Zhangke is a great Chinese director responsible for 'I Wish I Knew' which premiered ( North America) at TIFF 2010. In his article 'The Bullshit Logic of Patriotism' he recounts his address and introduction to the Toronto audience which required the services of a translator. He qualifies the translator's credentials, in this case a young Chinese woman who emigrated to Canada when she was eight years old, whose colloquial Chinese was excellent but formal speech caused some difficulty. In Zhangke's audience remarks he had stated "a history without details is only abstract" which the translator had trouble finding exactly the right words. Instead in her version it became "a history without details is unclear."
An agitated woman in the audience stood up and shouted that he translator was "distorting the directors words". English to Chinese and back to English and Chinese I guess is the exchange that followed. Zhangke recalls this incident to build the foundation for what are his thoughts on 'Patriotism' and 'Cinema'. It is an interesting article.
This is where I pound my chest. Hear it? Zhangke is an important world voice who happens to be Chinese. I knew absolutely nothing about him or the documentary 'I Wish I Knew" when I lined up for the screening. I bought my ticket on the strength of the images I had seen depicting modern day Shanghai. It looked like how I remember the 'Rust-Belt' in it's glory days with it's filth and decay. China is different from the American experience (which we enjoy here too in Ontario; Quebec and B.C. are unique and separate.) so it is not my intent to draw any inferences what so ever beyond the translated event. In my world view Zhangke is an important figure and what he says given the context of the circumstances should be important in the way that one word can change everything. Based on yesterday's rant, I rest my case.
The weather today in Southern Ontario is quite different from the recent experience. Coincidentally a radio talking head commented that Tuesday mornings are the most depressing of the week. It occurred to me that this might be more true today given relative mild temperature and general gloom of a cloudy day. So what do you think the very next musical selection was? A dreary mellow piece of tripe. This is precisely the time to play something completely different. Something like this:
B-52's
Seems pretty simple to me.
By the way if you ever want to feel humble about what you think you know about film read 'Andrea Picard'. This girl is too much. She blows my mind. I am so glad she works in Toronto; we are lucky and richer for it.
Finally lest I be misunderstood cloudy days are just fine with me especially in winter. This 'gloom' thing is a very Toronto response.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Henning Mankell
Last June while reading The New York Times Book Review I stumbled onto an article about Stieg Larsson and his trilogy. The Times article was more about the phenomenon more than the latest release of 'Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest' and is the singular reason I decided to check out the series. I must have anticipated that a dark, Swedish style would appeal to me and made particular note of other author's mentioned in the article as possible recommendations for further reading, in view of the sad fact that Larsson was dead and his novel voice was gone forever.
For anyone that has read one of Larsson's books, not to say all of them, time passes and life goes on. What I intended as a bit of summer reading turned into a marathon of sorts that swallowed whole chunks of my life. When I turned the last page of the third book I needed a break from his voice so it was a good thing there was nothing else of his to choose from. As I have mentioned elsewhere, when writing my own stuff I find it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to read fiction. It is too easy to lose sight of your own voice and what tumbles from your fingers to the page cannot but be influenced by phrasing that is not uniquely your own. It follows then that my own work suffered during, what I coin, my surrender to pulp; a matter I am still trying to rectify five months later.
In an effort to cleanse my palette I turned to anything American which in turn led to American literary classic and which itself spurred a poke at some Canadiana legend. A terrible thought process and now annoyed, I returned to an old favorite, Vonnegut in this case. Where that journey took me is decidedly a different stream of thought from this and one which I have already addressed in a manner of words earlier although to a quite 'something else all together' conclusion. The pause that, pregnant in nature and not yet having reached full term, still tosses around in my head, has more to do with linguistics than art yet art is at the very heart of it.
I've read and studied my share of foreign language thought in fits of Dostoyevsky, Ibsen, Chekov and even Homer's Illiad, if that is not too obviously cheating the idea, without once considering the importance and integrity of translation. In Larsson's work I began to wonder, if only for the use of idiom and Western adaptation. The importance of translator is immense and I should have, long before now, recognized the role for what it is, which in my estimation is Intrepreter. Anyone that knows me only a wee bit would understand the scope of that concept roaming the dark and lonely corridors of my mind. A story from my own life recently recalled and laughed at would seem appropriate and timely.
My Kitsilano contingent can skip this part, all of these words have already fatigued west coast reality and most of you already know the punch line.
A period of medical uncertainty, when Prozac and Zoloft were enjoying their moment as fashionable cures, coincided with my own bouts of erratic behaviour, (which had more to do with an 'unhappy' marriage than an 'unhappy' nature). My treatment took on an experimental dimension, then commonly referred to as 'cocktail medicine'. The combination of pharmaceuticals and their respective dosage represented a myriad of combinations that, distilled in the right measure and tailored to the peculiarities of each patient, promised 'normalized' life. It's a balancing act between patient and physician as the side effects could be as off-label as the treatment itself and it requires your strict attention if you do not want the cure to suddenly become the illness. Predictably, (isn't hindsight wonderful), Bi-Polar, Epilepsy and Mental disorders were all on the table and not easily dismissed. Consequently they all were treated. Scans (I had a lot of them) followed as did specialist opinions, all submitted to my family physician to digest and re-present to me, filtered and edited as he felt best and finally summarized in the adjustment of medications just right for me.
A neurologist looking at test results determined that I had suffered a stroke at some time albeit somewhat small compared to how much worse it could have been. I was mildly interested though curious could be a better description. Periods of unconsciousness were common for me what with the pot and booze on top of my prescriptions which, interestingly, I never associated with one another. Effect and cause somehow escaped me on this point probably because I had bigger problems to think about. The stroke got my attention; too many stories to ignore and walking with a cane or permanently slurring my words would be too hard to hide.
My physician helped me put it into perspective. The stroke was obviously a minor incident and the scans revealed only a little damage in the white mass area of my brain. Side effects, if they could be called that, were impossible to predict as, in this type of malady, changes in behaviour were too wide ranging in possibility to accurately ascribe to any patient; we would just have to wait and see. Not satisfied I pressed him to give me a few examples of what I might look out for. After some thought he described two different patient cases. The first was a woman who began having orgasms during routine acts of living like walking down the street. I believed he referred to them as 'spontaneous'. In the second illustration he evidenced a man who could no longer remember any word that began with the letter 'P'. I was still unsure but for the most part satisfied; I would have to monitor myself more closely.
My treatment continued and at one point involved seeing a psychiatrist. I think I attended three sessions before calling it quits and dismissing the likelihood that this line of treatment held any answers for me. During my first visit which included so much more than this, I gave him my summary understanding of the issues that plagued me. He took notes and mostly said nothing, ever. Sometime later events conspired to an ending of sorts and I make the decision to return to Ontario. There were many issues that suggested this was a good idea but in my estimation there were only two. My marriage had ended abruptly; I walked out having had enough and without even thinking there was a possibility I would not land on my feet in a few hours resolutely continued to live out the details of my life. One of these details included a routine surgery which, as it turned out, was anything but routine and the fallout was enormous. However what brought me to my knees was suffering a cooking accident which left me with second degree burns on my left forearm. I can handle just about anything and my pain threshold is pretty damn high but burns are mind blowing, life-changing events, period. I could not cope or in the very least, chose not to.
In the process of liquidating my Vancouver position and getting ready to flee I said goodbye to my family physician and at his suggestion took my substantial medical file to a nearby facility to make a complete copy for my next doctor's reference. I would think that there were thousands of pages and notes and I stood at the photocopier, my mind on auto-pilot, copying one page after another. I was trying not to look at the pages preferring not to get any more involved and just happy to act as a courier between one care giver and another.Inexplicably my eye was drawn to one page and it happened to be correspondence from the psychiatrist to my family physician with his preliminary findings. My jaw dropped when I read "Patient claims not to be able to recall any words beginning with the letter 'P'". Interpretation from an Interpreter. Yes I have strong feelings.
So a Swedish pulp writer and questioning how vested I was in this current entertainment and how much was genre and how much was style. Vonnegut closed and needed something to read I tracked down works from the other Swedish author touted in The Times review, Henning Mankell.
Mankell has published maybe six or seven titles that are a serial and whose key character is 'Kurt Wallander'. I remembered seeing a television listing for a show by the same name on Showcase. Finding the first in the series, 'Faceless Killers', I studied he cover which boasted 'Sweden's greatest living mystery writer'. It is also an international bestseller something which I believe can be said about the entire series. Last night I very nearly finished it saving the last chapter for today.
I'll say this; I have some experience analyzing a writer's early if not first work and was prepared to give him the benefit of a doubt. I purchased the first and second books in the series in order to give 'it' (him?) a chance. Having not yet read the second installment my opinion could change.
It sucks. It blows. It's trash.
What I craved was satisfying distraction and what I had hoped for was 'Scandinavian' 'Noir' 'Thriller'.
'Girl with the Dragon Tattoo' was superb in creating the visual for what Larsson spent hundreds of pages successfully embedding as a minor detail in his book. That is to say the Swedish landscape was not overlooked for it's potential value and interest to a foreign reader. Who does not hear 'Swedish Winter' and immediately think of stark, bone-chilling possibilities and a venue easily as alluring as any created character? Mankell that's who.
Larsson was a pulp writer so we are not talking about a Bergmanesque talent but the suggestion of depth in landscape is hard to resist. My disappointment with Mankell has much to do with the failure of inspiration. His similarity to Larsson stops with 'Swedish Writer'. His appeal should not extend beyond his domestic border and even this is kind.
'Faceless Killers' was written in the early 90's so I was prepared for a different buzz and attraction. But the cover even with warnings disguised as reviews of 'police procedural' could not have prepared for me 'lifeless' spread out over 300 pages. 'Winter' reduced to a 'threat of snow' and 'blowing wind'. The central character (protagonist too strong) also comes to suffer second degree burns only to be treated like a scratch or flesh wound and simple evidence that Mankell is in an emotional vacuum that does not allow for understanding in any way approaching depth. NO soul.
An international bestseller? In what language?
For anyone that has read one of Larsson's books, not to say all of them, time passes and life goes on. What I intended as a bit of summer reading turned into a marathon of sorts that swallowed whole chunks of my life. When I turned the last page of the third book I needed a break from his voice so it was a good thing there was nothing else of his to choose from. As I have mentioned elsewhere, when writing my own stuff I find it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to read fiction. It is too easy to lose sight of your own voice and what tumbles from your fingers to the page cannot but be influenced by phrasing that is not uniquely your own. It follows then that my own work suffered during, what I coin, my surrender to pulp; a matter I am still trying to rectify five months later.
In an effort to cleanse my palette I turned to anything American which in turn led to American literary classic and which itself spurred a poke at some Canadiana legend. A terrible thought process and now annoyed, I returned to an old favorite, Vonnegut in this case. Where that journey took me is decidedly a different stream of thought from this and one which I have already addressed in a manner of words earlier although to a quite 'something else all together' conclusion. The pause that, pregnant in nature and not yet having reached full term, still tosses around in my head, has more to do with linguistics than art yet art is at the very heart of it.
I've read and studied my share of foreign language thought in fits of Dostoyevsky, Ibsen, Chekov and even Homer's Illiad, if that is not too obviously cheating the idea, without once considering the importance and integrity of translation. In Larsson's work I began to wonder, if only for the use of idiom and Western adaptation. The importance of translator is immense and I should have, long before now, recognized the role for what it is, which in my estimation is Intrepreter. Anyone that knows me only a wee bit would understand the scope of that concept roaming the dark and lonely corridors of my mind. A story from my own life recently recalled and laughed at would seem appropriate and timely.
My Kitsilano contingent can skip this part, all of these words have already fatigued west coast reality and most of you already know the punch line.
A period of medical uncertainty, when Prozac and Zoloft were enjoying their moment as fashionable cures, coincided with my own bouts of erratic behaviour, (which had more to do with an 'unhappy' marriage than an 'unhappy' nature). My treatment took on an experimental dimension, then commonly referred to as 'cocktail medicine'. The combination of pharmaceuticals and their respective dosage represented a myriad of combinations that, distilled in the right measure and tailored to the peculiarities of each patient, promised 'normalized' life. It's a balancing act between patient and physician as the side effects could be as off-label as the treatment itself and it requires your strict attention if you do not want the cure to suddenly become the illness. Predictably, (isn't hindsight wonderful), Bi-Polar, Epilepsy and Mental disorders were all on the table and not easily dismissed. Consequently they all were treated. Scans (I had a lot of them) followed as did specialist opinions, all submitted to my family physician to digest and re-present to me, filtered and edited as he felt best and finally summarized in the adjustment of medications just right for me.
A neurologist looking at test results determined that I had suffered a stroke at some time albeit somewhat small compared to how much worse it could have been. I was mildly interested though curious could be a better description. Periods of unconsciousness were common for me what with the pot and booze on top of my prescriptions which, interestingly, I never associated with one another. Effect and cause somehow escaped me on this point probably because I had bigger problems to think about. The stroke got my attention; too many stories to ignore and walking with a cane or permanently slurring my words would be too hard to hide.
My physician helped me put it into perspective. The stroke was obviously a minor incident and the scans revealed only a little damage in the white mass area of my brain. Side effects, if they could be called that, were impossible to predict as, in this type of malady, changes in behaviour were too wide ranging in possibility to accurately ascribe to any patient; we would just have to wait and see. Not satisfied I pressed him to give me a few examples of what I might look out for. After some thought he described two different patient cases. The first was a woman who began having orgasms during routine acts of living like walking down the street. I believed he referred to them as 'spontaneous'. In the second illustration he evidenced a man who could no longer remember any word that began with the letter 'P'. I was still unsure but for the most part satisfied; I would have to monitor myself more closely.
My treatment continued and at one point involved seeing a psychiatrist. I think I attended three sessions before calling it quits and dismissing the likelihood that this line of treatment held any answers for me. During my first visit which included so much more than this, I gave him my summary understanding of the issues that plagued me. He took notes and mostly said nothing, ever. Sometime later events conspired to an ending of sorts and I make the decision to return to Ontario. There were many issues that suggested this was a good idea but in my estimation there were only two. My marriage had ended abruptly; I walked out having had enough and without even thinking there was a possibility I would not land on my feet in a few hours resolutely continued to live out the details of my life. One of these details included a routine surgery which, as it turned out, was anything but routine and the fallout was enormous. However what brought me to my knees was suffering a cooking accident which left me with second degree burns on my left forearm. I can handle just about anything and my pain threshold is pretty damn high but burns are mind blowing, life-changing events, period. I could not cope or in the very least, chose not to.
In the process of liquidating my Vancouver position and getting ready to flee I said goodbye to my family physician and at his suggestion took my substantial medical file to a nearby facility to make a complete copy for my next doctor's reference. I would think that there were thousands of pages and notes and I stood at the photocopier, my mind on auto-pilot, copying one page after another. I was trying not to look at the pages preferring not to get any more involved and just happy to act as a courier between one care giver and another.Inexplicably my eye was drawn to one page and it happened to be correspondence from the psychiatrist to my family physician with his preliminary findings. My jaw dropped when I read "Patient claims not to be able to recall any words beginning with the letter 'P'". Interpretation from an Interpreter. Yes I have strong feelings.
So a Swedish pulp writer and questioning how vested I was in this current entertainment and how much was genre and how much was style. Vonnegut closed and needed something to read I tracked down works from the other Swedish author touted in The Times review, Henning Mankell.
Mankell has published maybe six or seven titles that are a serial and whose key character is 'Kurt Wallander'. I remembered seeing a television listing for a show by the same name on Showcase. Finding the first in the series, 'Faceless Killers', I studied he cover which boasted 'Sweden's greatest living mystery writer'. It is also an international bestseller something which I believe can be said about the entire series. Last night I very nearly finished it saving the last chapter for today.
I'll say this; I have some experience analyzing a writer's early if not first work and was prepared to give him the benefit of a doubt. I purchased the first and second books in the series in order to give 'it' (him?) a chance. Having not yet read the second installment my opinion could change.
It sucks. It blows. It's trash.
What I craved was satisfying distraction and what I had hoped for was 'Scandinavian' 'Noir' 'Thriller'.
'Girl with the Dragon Tattoo' was superb in creating the visual for what Larsson spent hundreds of pages successfully embedding as a minor detail in his book. That is to say the Swedish landscape was not overlooked for it's potential value and interest to a foreign reader. Who does not hear 'Swedish Winter' and immediately think of stark, bone-chilling possibilities and a venue easily as alluring as any created character? Mankell that's who.
Larsson was a pulp writer so we are not talking about a Bergmanesque talent but the suggestion of depth in landscape is hard to resist. My disappointment with Mankell has much to do with the failure of inspiration. His similarity to Larsson stops with 'Swedish Writer'. His appeal should not extend beyond his domestic border and even this is kind.
'Faceless Killers' was written in the early 90's so I was prepared for a different buzz and attraction. But the cover even with warnings disguised as reviews of 'police procedural' could not have prepared for me 'lifeless' spread out over 300 pages. 'Winter' reduced to a 'threat of snow' and 'blowing wind'. The central character (protagonist too strong) also comes to suffer second degree burns only to be treated like a scratch or flesh wound and simple evidence that Mankell is in an emotional vacuum that does not allow for understanding in any way approaching depth. NO soul.
An international bestseller? In what language?
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