exponentiation ezine: issue [2.0: culture]
MUSIC
Karjalan Sissit: Karjalan Sissit (Svartvintras/Coldspring 2001)
The name of this act is in Finnish although the composer is Swedish. The reason for this is that he was born in Finland, and his uncle who died in the war was part of the Karjalan Sissit, "Karelian Elite" in English. The music on this album is a sinister ambient soundscape of the bleakness of the reality on the field during the war between Finland and Russia. Often bombastic with ferocious drumming, sometimes eerily calm, the unrelenting desire for victory in the surrounding wasteland of shrapnel and corpses just radiates from the music. The desire isn't arrogant or pompous but the silently strong will of men made from stone. There are also two old Finnish songs, track 4 "Suomi Marssi," an old march song, and "S‰kkij‰rven Polkka," another traditional song. Both have a scratchy sound as if played through a gramophone, and they fit very well in the overall context of the album. A worthwhile representation of the Finnish 'sisu', or 'guts' in English, at the least. - frostwood
Fripp and Eno: "Evening Star" (EG Records, 1975)
Unassuming at first yet building itself from a simple arpeggio or shimmering tone cluster are the sublime melodic narratives that envelope the listener, providing, like ambient music was intended for, either pleasant background music or an immersive experience, depending on the degree one wants to devote their attention span to perception of such a form. At the time, ambient may have been seen as some new kind of avant-garde music that could barely be recognized as such, but going against the grain of other blues-slasher contemporaries, Robert Fripp helped advance a language of musicality outside of pop-based forms with of all possible instruments, an electric guitar. Fripp meanders but works within a loose collection of ideas, while layering occasional counterpoints to keep coherence.
In contrast Brian Eno stays within more controlled territory playing simple piano lines in between lead guitar as heard in "Evening Star". Both complement each other nicely by providing musical adventurousness with a stable foundation to work against. Upon getting to "Wind on Wind", the listener may realize how well this duo can shape atmosphere itself to create the kind of amorphous melody that, while impossible to hum, is just as musically profound as anything made by a master composer. In this case, Fripp is one of those contemporary masters in the world of guitar music. Some who are to used to worshipping over-hyped heroes that build entire songs from recycled blues licks may not understand what the fuss is about. After all, there are no flashy solos or accessible riffs. Though Fripp is certainly esteemed in his respective niche, most people prefer the smash appeal of an AC/DC or Eric Clapton; not many rockers have the ability of Fripp to holistically compose distinctive compositions conveying a variety of moods with more depth than one might find in the average food court's sampling of 'ethnic' cuisine. Each track is solid in its own way, and if these two musicians are to be lauded for anything associated with this project it should be for the enlightened and creative use of shifting melodic layers over simple ostinatos to create a sublime tension between divergent themes while maintaining a consistently satisfying mood. - sothis
Arcana: Cantar de Procella (Cold Meat Industry 1997)
Melancholic, brooding, epic, and sweeping are all words that come to mind to describe this wonderful album. Cantar de Procella, Arcana's second full-length album, is one of might and melancholy; it creates both intense and bombastic atmospheres alongside subtle and gloomy ones. Arcana build their songs on this album slowly as this is a band that loves to dwell in atmosphere created by looping harmonies and melodies along with ethereal vocals. But make no mistake Arcana is not really what one would call a minimalist band, though they are minimal. Arcana are fanciful, epic, and dim and they are capable of subtle shifting between these moods within songs. The music on this particular album can be labeled medievalist darkwave as there are many medieval styled melodies and structures to be found on this album while the mood and atmosphere of the music itself is firmly in the darkwave camp. The songs are also composed with a lot of reliance on electronic sources, but organic instruments are also mixed in it, thus making the composition approach akin to Dead Can Dance in those respects. Overall the music found on this album is on par with Arcana's first release, Dark Age of Reason.
Arcana can often sound similar to soundtrack music as the atmospheres they create can be complimented very elegantly with visuals and the songs easily fall into the background to create an ambiance for scenes in an epic film or game. At times it seems appropriate to compare Arcana to the darker side of Dead Can Dance, as Arcana's compositional approach can be very similar to that of DCD, though Arcana does not stray far from the minimalist approach. Arcana aren't as varied as DCD in terms of moods and sounds, but nevertheless a DCD direct or indirect influence can be picked up and traced through many of the songs on this album.
The electronic and organically created melodies that lace this album weave together to carry across the spirit of a murky forest in the evening, as they can be soft and subtle, but also quite brooding. The atmospheric hums, the sequencers, violins, vocals and flutes are at times reminiscent of the winds when rushing through the trees. Horns sound, choir vocals echo and flutes softly resonate as electronic drums pound a soft funeral hymn or powerful war march; it's as if the music were at times written for the great gasp before the storm of war where peace and violence reside side by side. The melodies are brooding and the atmospheres shift like the waves at night. Arcana have masterfully crafted a soundtrack to be played at ancient moors, near arcane ruins in the forests and on cliffs overlooking the ocean at dusk. Arcana stand as atmospheric masters in a genre known for atmosphere, and that is a testament towards the bands strength. The weakness is that at times the band can lose focus and become too repetitive or lack creative focus by creating moods that are too deep and never lighten to express the completeness of a moment. This fault, however, is not detraction from the beauty of this music as a whole.
This album is for those who have a taste for brooding, ethereal music. Highly recommended for fans of darkwave, medievalist, dark ambient or dark industrial music. - phantasm
My Bloody Valentine: "Loveless" (Sire, 1991)
My Bloody Valentine were placed at the forefront of the so-called "Dream Pop" movement in 1991 when this classic came out. Utilizing layers of atmospheric keyboards, overdriven guitars and eerily delicate singing, this band creates a massive wall of often discordant but harmonious sound that could only be the result of studio wizardry.
Although this album is considerably rock-based and heavily harmonic, it also possesses a sense of melody natural and profound in construction that makes it alien to the scope of most pop recordings. While most songs in the Top 40 rely on inoffensive chord progressions and mildly catchy hooks, frontman Belinda Butcher and co. whisper melodies that seamlessly flow together in steady cadence as if leading the essential song structure by themselves. The result is something appealing but much emotionally deeper than most bands in pop and rock.
I would recommend this album to anyone with a half-decent musical taste but especially to those practitioners in the realm of black metal who could learn from this album. In the musical aesthetic they were seeking, My Bloody Valentine were not that far off from classic Burzum. Album highlights: Loomer; To Here Knows When; What You Want; Soon. - sothis
Niccolo Paganini: The Best of Paganini (Naxos)
This Italian violinist revolutionized violin playing in the early 19th century, placing himself at the horizon of the forthcoming Romantic movement and personifying that era's unique emphasis on the musician as deeply self-conscious artist rather than mere musical craftsman for royalty. Indeed, true to this non- conformist spirit, these works remain some of the most difficult and challenging pieces ever written for violin.
Although Paganini is most known for his 24 caprices, he also wrote in a variety of other forms ranging from symphony and guitar/violin concertos to even solo guitar pieces. On this outing, Naxos has put together a decent introduction to the artist showcasing his various works including 6 of his 24 caprices as performed by Russian violinist Ilya Kaler.
It becomes evident after a few listens why his caprices are as famous as they are. Each are furiously technical but spirited pieces that work through one or two dominant ideas crafted from a flurry of scale runs, arpeggios and wide intervallic leaps that bounce around to a steady rhythmic pattern. His visually compelling use of chromatics gesture towards future developments in tonality as the Romantic era wore on but like Beethoven stays mostly to a Classical ideal of consonance while aiming for melodic complexity.
Kaler is no doubt technically proficient, but with maybe some understanding of his plight of having to learn these inhumanly difficult pieces, I have to say I was left a little disappointed in his performance. It could be just my taste, but I found his tone to be forced, brittle, flat and sometimes noticeably offkey. This man won gold medals at three of the most prestigious competitions, but at least from what I can tell on this recording, I do not understand what the enormous accolades are for.
The guitar with violin compositions are pleasant if sometimes simplistic and predictable works that aim for melodic accessibility. These songs are broken up by soft periodic lulls that pick up with return of motif. In his concertos, the violin not surprisingly takes the spot light after sufficient staging with orchestral instruments, by gradually unfurling and leading off from the instruments only to unite with them again with each dynamic peak. The orchestrations gave way to a single thought: Beethoven-lite. They are mainly there to support Paganini's virtuosity.
Overall, this CD is a good and cheap introduction to this musician but noting the deficiencies of Kaler, there are probably better disks out there for the same purpose. - sothis
VNV Nation: Matter and Form (Metropolis Records, 2005)
If you are a latecomer to the world of electronically-produced music, getting your feet wet in the wide expanse of artists and styles found within this spectrum can be a daunting task. It's very easy to dismiss this style as cold and lifeless, since attempting to find a human presence - be this emotion, passion, or "soul" - in such a ruthlessly technological aesthetic is oftentimes hopeless. It seems to be a habitual staple of most electronic acts to desire only to produce the type of brash, saccharine, repetitively rhythmcentric tripe that is pounded through the speakers of nightclubs the world over, as opposed to an exploration of this medium for the artistic potential it could conceivably unlock within the creator. As in all things though, exceptions to the rule are out there, and these exceptions have discovered that great art can be made utilizing a technological framework of abstraction and mechanized sound to elucidate a distinctly organic vision of reality and our place within it. VNV Nation has successfully transcended the one-dimensional expectations of this musical avenue to produce a work of intellect, zeal, and morbid optimism in the face of a world gone mad.
A certain innocent hopefulness ("Arena") intertwined with an assertiveness defined by its resilience ("Strata" "Interceptor") and underscored by occasional solitary introspection ("Endless Skies") paint a picture of an enduringly pragmatic yet personalized idealism bound within every note and theme of these rich and darkly sonorous tracks. Most likely due to preconceptions of the vapidity of most writers in this genre, the lyrical content is surprising, and self-aware, while at the same time marred by an infrequent moribund reliance on sentimentality to convey its sense-impressions. Vocals are recognizably human in tone, lending an immediacy to the overall impact, in direct contrast to the distancing which can be observed in the over-industrialization of most vocal patterns found in this music.
The final track "Perpetual" is a summation of the several different moods found within the album, with strong development of central themes and concepts beyond the limitations of its outward form through a calculated repetition of its sonic palette into a dissolution of naked synth-derived atmosphere. It serves as a fitting conclusion to a highly recommended album for those disgusted by the scarcity of worthwhile music to be found in a modern era. - blaphbee
BOOKS
Absolute Friends, by John Le CarrÈ. 455 pages, Little, Brown and Company, New York (2003).
Former British Foreign Service officer Le CarrÈ is famed for his cynical portraits of spycraft: the corrupt local governments, the political infighting that hobbles each side, and the creeping bureaucracy that takes the highest ideals and turns them into bumbling administration which accomplishes its task in name and not ideal. With his latest, Le CarrÈ strikes for a more philosophical target, and turns not from the methods of spying but to its justifications, or the ideological underpinnings of political ideals themselves.
No one but an enigma like Le CarrÈ could write this. Rejecting and rejected by right and left alike, he inhabits the middle ground favored by those who, having seen the mechanism of government, are perpetually distrusting of loyalty to abstractions which hover above that which we call life, the everyday process of being able to live and eat and have families. Previous books touched on this topic by showing the sacrifice of individuals and normal life for political means, and offered solutions that even if tainted, suggested an end was at hand. In "Absolute Friends," the writer brushes beyond the everyday and offers us a big picture that is an alarm cry screaming from Hell.
The story is convoluted, mainly through its disorienting telling which flits from present tense to past, establishing connections and then taking the reader on backfill within recollections. Its core however is simple: a young man meaning well stumbles into leftist ideology and makes a friendship that lasts a lifetime. His new partner in crime, an enigmatic revolutionary named Sasha, becomes his guide and ally. Sasha goes farther into extremes than our main character, a hapless everyman named Mundy (perhaps contraction of "Mundane"), and defects to the Communist state of East Germany. Over time, he finds that much as the capitalist West was to his mind oppressing its people, the East does the same, in a different variation.
From this point on, intrigue and deception, for which Le CarrÈ is perhaps the most able writer in the English language, take over, leading Sasha and Mundy through various paths which do not turn out, bringing the narrative to the present tense. What we the readers see at this point is a solidity of experience in these men's lives, by which different central powerful agencies exploit people for money and political gain, and despite often finding them pedantic and disorganized as people, the reader is shown an honest reaction to the tragedies of their lives. Mundy grew up in British-occupied India, and sees in the Faulknerian dissolution of his family a metaphor for occupation as a whole, where Sasha grew up in the dying days of the Nazi regime, and became opposed to Nationalism as a result.
As a result, these two ideologues are convinced of an absolute reality, one in which fascism threatens a goodwill toward all humans and a brotherhood of humankind. Without ever clearly meaning to, they devote their lives to this belief, and gradually discard all past assumptions of what will make their Utopia coming to pass. Every stage of life seems to fail these men, from their student rebellions, to their work with governments, to finally, their activism as writers and members of local communities. Eventually, with all options exhausted and their lives expended in activism, they turn toward a final hope which transcends politics, nationalities, and specific ideologies. If such a thing would betray them, they reason, there might be no hope in absolute belief at all, and no clear path to salvation.
It is with ironic mastery that Le CarrÈ brings this to pass, as he shows us humanity with warts and all. Mundy is pathetic, but well-meaning. He partners up with a Turkish whore out of what the reader cannot feel is cynically revealed as pity; he lives humbly and wears his politics on his sleeve, even to the point of seeming, like the limousine liberals of America, to be constructing his self- image entirely from it. Sasha is shown as a half-crippled, pathetic man empowered sexually and socially by his political vision, and when social approval goes away, he becomes only a shrewd but heartless implementer of ideas too abstract to exist as examples in daily life. Governments both left and right are pictured as oblivious to anything but bureaucracy and function, the blind leading the blind.
The book concludes dramatically but in sparse detail, contrasting the obvious conclusions with the muddle of human drama that comprises the buildup to that point. Although it hammers out in detail many previous themes from this author, there is a new and almost paranoid, but realistic, distrust of something that is not manifested by a side or character but by all actors in this drama. In a time when we are led off to war by high-flying linguistic acrobatics about the importance of democracy, or crushing fascism, or the rights of X or Y ethnic or gender group, Le CarrÈ is reminding us that words are just words, and if we take them as absolutes, we risk being misled - to our collective doom. - vijay
"Hooking Up" by Tom Wolfe. 293 pages. Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, New York (2000)
Literature is paradoxical because, in going into the world of fantasy, it seeks out meaning, and in doing so, denies illusion. Tom Wolfe approaches literature much like Hemingway did, as a journalist of his time and a demi-philosopher of values, and thus sets forth on a war of invective unparalleled in print at this time. His target: the "new" America and its steady replacement of values and character with external machinations including sex, money, digital computers, psychology, and biology - in short, anything that lets us off the hook (plea of woman in final chapter of Ulysses) from the task of having to shape our own futures, gives us something to blame and to justify our regressive behavior.
And with his classic deep-research style, Wolfe points out just how regressive our behavior is, while simultaneously damning with superlative praise our "freedoms" and "progressive" society. This is a book of essays, some from early in his career but the most influential ones from recent times, named after the first in the series, an analysis of modern sexuality as a "liberation" that has in fact numbed us to all subtler things. "Hooking Up" looks at the degeneration of courtship into fornication as a result of our desire to "empower" our young ladies, and points out that the discipline which raised us from the level of animals is now dissipating. The effect, as Wolfe concludes, is to make us numb and distant from one another. No more devastating seventeen pages has been levelled at this aspect of modernity.
Additional essays provide bounty: his analysis of the goldrush mentality at the founding of the semiconductor industry, and how it created a hybrid of liberal values and conservative finance, providing a new culture within America's culture based around a public image designed to justify the empty pursuit of wealth behind (Wolfe is too deft to spell it out in such easy terms, but for the sake of a book review, such things are required). Another article bites into the question of biological determinism, and its heavily politicized opposition, casually taking a stand in the middle suggesting that perhaps, until we understand more, we should stick to our guns and believe we have some control over our own character and actions. The excellent short essay "In the land of the Rococo Marxists" analyzes Superpower America as a falling empire, collapsing from within for lack of ideological vision.
Each of these essays includes a classic sense of humor and sharp vision of the human soul behind these political and technological developments, but reveals in the margins a growing sense of unease within this author regarding his predictions for a human future. "The Great Relearning" is a mockery of our desire to return to an original state, illustrating that as we peel back the layers of social assumptions which our politics tell us are "bad," we are devolving to a state where we must relearn the basics of living as herd animals. Its refulgent metaphor is that of the hippies in San Francisco who, upon going to a simpler and more communal way of life, literally reintroduced ancient diseases to modern medicine through sheer lack of accepted hygenic practice. It's a barrel of laughs.
Arguably the high point of this book is "Ambush at Fort Bragg," a novella which describes the ambitions of a fat, frumpy, ugly Jewish journalist and his vapid blond companion as they attempt to entrap a group of soldiers responsible for beating up a gay colleague. Having read his Nietzsche, Wolfe takes an ambiguous moral point of view, and illustrates how the impulse that seems to be "for the good" can have the same impetus as the "bad" against which it crusades. In a time of wars for moral absolutes and hyperbolic political ideals like "freedom," it's a worthy lesson. The volume then closes out with some works from early in Wolfe's career, mostly notably a satire of the New Yorker which was so dead-on that it didn't come across to this reviewer as satire.
Like most books of assembled pieces, "Hooking Up" requires a quiet moment and a cup of coffee, but rewards the diligent reader. Interestingly, one can see the history of Wolfe's research and novels here, in that "The Great Relearning" hearkens back to "The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test," the essays on semiconductors and politics in art suggest background to "A Man in Full," and clearly "Hooking Up" was a precursor to "I am Charlotte Simmons." Wolfe writes to point out reality to us, differing quite clearly from the trend of the last fifty years toward symbolic and abstract detachment from reality for the sake of unanchored, hyperbolic emotion. In this he is still a journalist, but by bypassing such "literary" ambitions, he returns to the function of literature: to praise life and analyze life. "The Invisible Artist" gives us a glimpse of his thinking here. For those who haven't yet discovered this writer, he represents the next era in literature, which will be a brushing-aside of our imaginary worlds and a return to realism of a pragmatic yet idealistic type. Nietzsche would be proud. - vijay
The Iliad, Homer. Translated by Robert Fagles. 683 pages, New York (1990)
This Greek epic poem about the Trojan War sings its tale of pride and conflict as nothing else can. Homer's work fully envelopes its listeners into both a world of warring personalities and warring nations, and into the prideful warrior psyche that values honor over just a simple existence. Robert Fagles' translation of The Iliad eschews demonstrating the author's vocabulary in favor of presenting Homer's poem in a powerful manner.
Fagles' translation does not attempt to impress the reader through obscure and archaic English. He uses conversational language, and uses it well enough to paint the full picture of the war in vivid detail. The death of a warrior is presented with an amazing description of the gore, which allows the reader to imagine exactly how it would look and feel for the cold, sharp point of a spear to tear through their flesh. The dialogue has a passion and urgency fitting a commander appealing to the man who was once his friend to forget that he has been slighted and to join the war effort.
The lust for glory and asserting oneself onto the world drives this work. It is what caused Agamemnon, the leader of the Greek army to steal a slave girl from the Greek's greatest warrior, Achilles, when he had to give up one of his in order to appease Apollo. This unquenchable fire is what the Trojan archer Pandarus felt when he foolishly fired the arrow that would shatter the truce and ultimately cause his city to erupt in flames as it was ransacked by the Greek army. When the Trojans sought to set the Greek fleet ablaze and ruin their forces, they were inspired by that same lust, as was the best friend of Achilles, Patroclus, as he tore through ranks of Trojans after witnessing the Trojans nearly succeed at their goals. When Patroclus' death allows Achilles to forget his rage at Agamemnon, and the greatest Greek warrior challenges and defeats Hector, this is what spurred him on. This lust even held sway over the men outside of war; at Patroclus' funeral games, the Greek captains Ajax and Odysseus strain against each other in a wrestling match, neither wrestler giving way to the other. The end of this tale is known to nearly all potential readers, however this strengthens it, rather than weakens it. As Achilles and Priam, king of Troy, embrace, each weeping over the fate that they know awaits them, this element of inexorability allows the reader to empathize with the two characters struggling with their own mortality more profoundly than if this fated end had come as a surprise for the reader.
Even though The Iliad was written over two thousand years ago, it remains current even today. The basic realization of death, and the resulting struggle to make one's time have meaning, is familiar to all people. It is strongly recommended by this reviewer for upholding heroism rather than comfortable passivity. - cynical
"I am Charlotte Simmons," by Tom Wolfe. 676 pages, Farrar, Strauss, Giroux, New York (2004).
Literature aims to render a song of reality, describing it as it exists outside of the small worlds in our own heads, but part of that process is singing: bringing to light the mundane and showing it as the conflict between ideals that in human terms it is. Set in a fictional Ivy League college called Dupont University, Tom Wolfe's latest book, I am Charlotte Simmons, is a careful exploration of the reality faced by college students, during what one might presuppose to be the most idealistic time in a young person's life.
Turning his back on current literary convention, Wolfe does not use any grand- sounding metaphorical or scientific allusions to make his point, as a Pynchon or DeLillo might, but creates instead a literal story, and from within it alludes to the ideals that are being manifested in the path of his protagonist. Eighteen-year-old Charlotte Simmons is a prodigy by our terms, having proven herself in education, but is an everyperson in her confusion regarding social and moral issues. This confusion is deepened when she goes to Dupont, in which the elite of our nation's learners demonstrate an aptitude for lust, degeneracy, sloth, filth and illusion - in short anything but learning, which one might assume is the process of compiling knowledge about reality.
Wolfe crafts his story in a flexible hand, borrowing freely from the past century of American literature as well as classic Bildungsroman archetypes, but his style is determined by what he portrays, and like a good journalist he is an able chameleon. Charlotte is portrayed in the primary color absolutes of childhood mixed with the dense greys of abstract concepts applied without the context that adulthood patiently teaches. While not perhaps as exactingly pure in voice as a character study would be, her language captures the conceptual conflict of her age and the time in which she lives. Much as in the literary heritage of F. Scott Fitzgerald, characters merge the allegorical and the organic into a portrayal of experience as if contemplated in the small hours of a dying day. They are important as much for what they do see as what they do not, but we as readers divorced from any particular individual, can infer from the whole of the situation.
What is gratifying about this approach is its reality. Contemporary literature has deviated into an almost entirely symbolic realm at this point, as if deluded by its own power of metaphor into confusing language with reality, and Wolfe yanks us back from that not as much through the gritty elements of the story - Charlotte's paranoid and delusional deflowering, or the fistfights of drunken college males, or the excreta and pathos of young people aping in extremes an adult world they cannot understand - but through his attentive eye to the images and concepts of areas in which we have no experience after which we pattern our behavior. He connects impressions to action, and shows the reader how despite our most animal impulses, we are creatures of mind who program ourselves according to what we have learned.
This literal story, like the most epic of literature, has a basic structure wrapped in a proliferation of detail through its unfolding plotline, but its theme sounds consistently throughout. Where Wolfe is most deft is his ability to nudge a concept into every scene by not mentioning it explicitly, letting the action conclude and the characters then contemplate where they have arrived and what it means, in contrast to what they expected. Although Charlotte is a vivid flesh and blood character, her struggles mirror those of the society around her, and through that device Wolfe peers into the evolving psyche of our society, much as "The Great Gatsby" chronicled the outlook of its time so well as to be emblematic.
Fitzgerald provides an interpretive starting point that gives us some clue as to what this book is about. Much as Gatsby was an allegory for "ambition," as the author revealed in later interviews and critique, "I am Charlotte Simmons" is about a similar phenomenon, but at a more fundamental level of psychology. Where in the 1920s ambition to succeed financially dominated all else, and Fitzgerald's backward warning was to the American establishment that it would soon be replaced by more aggressive newcomers, since it had lapsed into a lack of values, Wolfe tackles the lack of values by showing us an unreal situation of sublime but not obvious danger. This allows him to point out what replaced our values, and what obsession obscures our desire to rise above.
Looking at this through the allegory of Charlotte Simmons, we see a young girl who wants to rise above the world, represented by her dingy and impoverished hometown with its hopeless and fatalistic local culture. She goes to a place she sees as a gateway to knowledge, but out of need for personal growth in a sexually aggressive and socially elitist climate, becomes displaced, and spends much of the book trying to get back on track. Wolfe raises the question, however, of an invisible mental infection that cannot be described by the morality of her God-fearing mother, the love of knowledge of her professors, or the polyglot of political attitudes that encrust the campus. Using literary negative space, he shows us what's missing, and like a mirror reveals the attribute of the world we cannot normally see and thus do not attribute to our actions as cause or fixation.
Where "Gatsby" was about ambition, the unstated theme of "I am Charlotte Simmons" is the first word in the title. No matter how much we wrangle over the named institutions and concepts of society, the book hints, we cannot overcome our fascination with ourselves, and our habit of constructing our worldview around our self-image. Characters of all stripes in this book become misled by not their egos per se, but their social desire to be seen as having certain "good" or powerful motives; what they cannot see is the situation as a whole. We can hear in this an echo of Nietzsche's warning against "grand statements" of emotional meaning, but little pragmatic value. From the yuppie fratboys to the academically amotivated athletes, this book abounds with characters myopically blind to all but themselves as constructed, externalized image.
As a result, this is a highly subversive book, and not only for its frank treatment of disposable sexuality, racial recognition politics, academic Marxist groupthink and excessive use of alcohol and drugs. Its assault on us is cordial, but it bears the emblem of death as a warning, revealing a worldview which defeats us in every form because of its hook into our brain at a level we cannot even detect. Wolfe avoids battering us with this as a dominant metaphorical structure but lets it ring out in the soft spaces between action and the unarticulated but visible emptinesses characters encounter even when succeeding. On the surface, "I am Charlotte Simmons" shows us a young woman attacked by the world, but when we read below the surface, it shows us a species decimated by its inability to distinguish the small worlds within individual minds from the larger world beyond. - vijay
FILM
Un Chien Andelou (dir. Luis Bunuel, 1929)
Un Chien Andelou is a film of dreams and tantalizing irrationality. The film title translates to "An Andelousian Dog," and it's the first example of a surrealist film. This is also surrealist Luis Bunuel's first film, thus beginning the start of an iconoclastic and wild film career for Bunuel. The 17 minute short was co-written with fellow surrealist great Salvador Dali. This is one of the most notorious and well known short films in existence, in part because of its shocking, disjointed and dreamy imagery which remains potent to this day.
The film opens with one of the most memorable sequences in film history. A tango plays as a man (Bunuel) is sharpening a barbers razor. A thin veil of smoke from his cigar dances around his head as he pears into the moon. The shot switches to the inside where a woman is sitting down in a chair and looking forward. The Bunuel character approaches her and takes the razor to her eye and slices it open. The sequence then ends and the meat of the surrealist short begins.
The film takes us on a seemingly incoherent ride as if we are in a dream, experiencing these phantasm's first hand. The plot circulates around a young man and a women whom he desires but cannot obtain. The two challenge each other while strange things happen and scenes just mysteriously change before our eyes. One sits in wonder taking in all the dream like imagery of this short film.
There is an undeniable passion in the method and work of Bunuel. His iconoclasm as a film maker is unrivaled and his willingness to push the boundaries is applauded. Un Chien Andelou is a short that attacks rationality, Catholicism and the bourgeoisie. The film expresses the desperation of a man who can never truly have the woman he seeks. Bunuel seems to portray the underlying beast behavior of the bourgeoisie who have come to believe they are no longer an animal but something outside of nature. These are common themes that would follow Bunuel throughout his career. While Bunuel would later say in an interview that the film had no meaning, it was just a poke at the avant-garde cinema of the day that relied more on form than substance, it is apparent that there are some themes presiding through the film. Bunuel was known for being an iconoclast, often threatening to burn his films and making rash comments for effect; it is quite possible he did so by denying the film had to say anything at all. Bunuel was a true surrealist after all (except for a brief period in the 30's where he was under the influence of Communism, probably in part because it was a radical idea. Bunuel later revoked and vehemently condemned Communism and throughout his career there exists anarchistic sympathies and an attack on snobbery). This is a piece of cinematic history that should not be missed by anyone into this medium. This is a pure work of surrealistic iconoclasm.
At its very base Un Chien Andelou is a trip through the seemingly incoherent world of dreams and nightmares. Love for the irrational was a cornerstone of the surrealist style and this is apparent from the beginning to the end of this brilliant short film. Bunuel manages to create something hauntingly memorable by shooting this film with such bravado and charisma. - phantasm Download the film here: http://epc.buffalo.edu/sound/mp3/sp/bunuel_luis/UN%20CHIEN%20ANDALOU.mpg
"Triumph Of The Will" (dir. Leni Riefenstahl, 1935)
In the first decades of the 20th century, some nations adopted political regimes which were brought forth by theories and philosophies that constituted a complete renewal of the system previously in vigor, most notably fascism and communism. In order to strengthen their political base and gather more adepts, the rulers of those countries used some types of propaganda to spread the word, including cinema, which was at the time a relatively new and powerful art form. Nevertheless, there are at least two examples, one from each of the two regimes mentioned, of films that had initially mere propaganda purposes but turned out to be true masterpieces: The Battleship Potemkin (Bronenosets Potyomkin, 1925), directed by Sergei Eisenstein and filmed in the Soviet Union, and Triumph Of The Will, directed by Leni Riefenstahl and filmed in Nazi Germany. Due to the efforts of the media and western governments to condemn and boycott things that are connected to National Socialism since the end of World War II, Riefenstahl's picture is not remembered by critics as often as Eisenstein's piece is, despite the fact that it was one of the most groundbreaking movies of its time.
The film depicts the Reich Party Congress which took place in Nuremberg in the year of 1934 and the events connected to it. At the beginning, after a brief explanation of the context that led to such celebration, there is a display of beautiful images of the city and scenes of Adolf Hitler being enthusiastically hailed by a devoted crowd as he arrives at the airport and goes on to his destination in his car. What follows afterwards are the F¸hrer's inspections of the national army and workers, political rallies, military parades and speeches of members of the government. Considering its content, the movie could have been just an ordinary political documentary, but it achieves a great deal more than that not only because of the unique nature and magnificence of the Reich, but also due to the incredible talent of its director, as Triumph of the Will is, indeed, technically irreprehensible. Innovative techniques such as multi-angle camera shots, cranes and tracking rails were utilized and the result is nothing less than spectacular. From the beginning till the end, there is a succession of masterfully edited and beautifully photographed scenes which at the same time capture the essence of the events in a realistic way and exalt their grandeur.
Ultimately, this documentary is highly recommended to anyone who is interested in modern history and to those who would like to see rare images of a nation united under the banner of heroism and ancient symbols of might, as if in a fortified island surrounded by a world where industrialism and conformism had long swallowed honor and pride, in a time where such things were already practically nonexistent. - monolithus
"Apocalypse Now" (dir. Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)
Why people love this movie: it puts into poetry a song of the decline so vast, so carefully considered, that it does not register as propaganda as much as honest emotion. It leaves aside social considerations, such as what might or might not offend, and supplants them with a view of the world in which we find ourselves, as if crafted from the inner self we all nourish and hide away from the uncomprehending, thickly vengeful world out of outer society. In brief, it is a synthesis of T.S. Eliot's "The Wasteland" and Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness," both poems that deal with the collapse of the West through an inward lack of will and spirit that corrupts all things and cannot be addressed by ordinary political means. Modernizing it somewhat, the directors set this descriptive fantasy in the jungles of Viet Nam, and add to it period pieces of music and culture and language, showing us how much the safe world of television and plastic-sealed products cannot change the beast within.
Our perspective follows that of a military man sent up a long river deep into the jungle, having been given instructions to eliminate a man superior to him; our protagonist is recovering from his own failures, and is expected to restore himself to good graces with this mission. Over this creepy narrative line is woven an elaborately detailed simple story of a team of people fighting their way into a war-wracked, disorganized territory in which every "official" reason is supplanted by a darkly subconscious actuality, one in which predation and profit obliterate all idealism. To understand this movie, realize that it is not a war movie; war is one of its metaphors, but specifically, modern war is, in that it shows us the pretense of an organized society in a disorganized, manic pursuit in which all intentions are hidden behind layers of starchy bureaucratic justification.
"Apocalypse Now" is anything if not lavish; A-level names from its era, magnificent battle scenes that replace special effects with the guaranteed effect of simply blowing up huge things in coordination, and excellent cinematography highlight its passage and make a linear storyline come alive in depth if not permutation (fortunate, since the latter is destructive to emblematic themes as used here). In this light, the movie is a strike against not only the mentality it describes, but the artistic community that, drunken on the same mentality, refuses to produce honest work describing it. While it is mainly a work of overbearing mood, this movie is lightened by humor and the pathos of human real-world survival in illogical circumstance, touching on French existential philosophy as much as proto-modernist realism. For all of this it is a great work of filmmaking, but what makes this movie a form- independent great work of art is its articulation of finely observed reality in poetic form, looking beyond the temporal to see the spiritual, philosophical and psychological dilemma of this cycle in our Western civilization. - vijay
FOOD
"Chicken and Forty Cloves"
This is simultaneously the easiest and best dish you could ever cook. It requires one pan (more or less), it makes one of the lesser utilized cuts of chicken shine, fills your home with an absolutely heavenly aroma, and the flavour is incomparable. You will never have better chicken in your life, unless of course you brine the chicken first, which carries this dish right over the top.
1 dozen chicken thighs skin removed, or one whole chicken, split into eight pieces Salt and pepper 3/4 to 1C extra virgin olive oil, plus three tablespoons 40 peeled cloves of garlic (this amount can be reduced serviceably to ten if you feel squeamish, but it is traditional to use forty) Several sprigs of fresh thyme 6 bay leaves
Optional ingredients: halved Yukon Gold potatoes, cored quarters of apple or pear, whole peeled shallots, chili peppers, olives, grapes
- Preheat oven to 350F.
- Season the chicken very liberally with salt and pepper, and toss with three tablespoons of olive oil. Brown these pieces in a hot skillet over high heat until caramelized all over.
- Add the chicken to a casserole dish large enough to accommodate the chicken in one layer, and scatter the garlic and herbs over top. This is also where you would add any of the optional ingredients mentioned above. Add the remaining oil, cover tightly and bake for one and a half hours.
- Allow to cool slightly before consuming, as you have basically just finished slowly deep-frying the chicken; it will be quite hot. You can stir some of the poached garlic into mashed potatoes, and the resulting oil can be used in any application requiring that a flavorful fat be incorporated - salad dressings, sauteeing meats and vegetables, pastas, etc.
- hieronymous botch
Gnocchians
In philosophy, we often deal with abstract notions, which prompts a desire for something tangible, perhaps even soft and easily digestible, causing us to desire a simple but delicious recipe such as the following. It is based on the ancient Italian food "gnocchi," or potato-flour dumplings, which may have even been served to such luminaries as Virgil and Marcus Aurelius.
Ingredients
2 lbs potatoes (bonus for sticky ones like Yukon Gold) 1 tsp ocean salt 1/2 stick butter 1 tbsp cracked pepper 1.5 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
Boil these potatoes gently; you don't want to roast the damn things into tastelessness. This usually takes an hour on medium heat, but can be done in a half hour on high if you rotate them so they do not burn. When they're boiled, set them aside to cool, then peel them and mash them into paste.
Slice butter into small saucepan, add pepper, and melt. Pour into the potato mash and knead thoroughly. Form a small "mountain" of the resulting greasy substrate, and poke in the top so that it creates a cup. Beat egg and dump into this cup, then follow up with salt. Knead this mixture.
Surround this mound with flour on a clean surface, then dump the required flour into it and knead. It will gradually take on a doughy texture; massage this into a uniform consistent and then divide it into four equal parts. With your clean hands, roll these over flour, adding more if the mixture is sticky (potatoes vary in consistent with ethnicity, breed, season and shelf life).
Roll each part into a rope about one inch in diameter, and then cut into one inch pieces. You can imprint these with a fork to give them the "classic gnocchi look." Boil water and drop these in carefully, stirring water to avoid their sticking to the bottom of the pot and resulting carbonization.
When done, serve with shredded parmesan cheese and/or tomato sauce. Here's a quick tomato sauce recipe.
Ingredients
24 oz crushed tomatoes 4 cloves garlic 1 medium onion 1 tbsp olive oil or 1 tsp olive oil and 1 pat butter 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes 1 tbsp oregano, dry 1/2 tbsp basil, dry 1 tbsp vinegar
Fresh ingredients work even better than what is listed above, but most of you have oregano and basil in your spice cabinets (if not, consider it; the first thing the FBI will check to make sure you're a loyal American is your spice collection). Put a saucepan on the stove, chuck in your oils, crushed peeled garlic, and red pepper. Simmer on medium and add finely chopped onion.
Cover, adding water if the mixture is dry, and uncover only when onion is visibly carmelized (shiny, translucent). Dump in vinegar and tomato puree, then stir in spices. Cook for another five minutes on medium and you've got a quick and dirty sauce. You can add green peppers or other vegetables for texture and flavor, but they will take longer to cook.
Gnocchians and sauce should serve 4-8 people, depending on size, ethnicity, season and shelf life. Most philosophers tend to favor this dish with red wine. - vijay
"Parsnip and Arugula 'Tagliatelle'"
This is a great vegetarian dish to serve to anyone still braindead enough to disregard all sensible nutritional advice to the contrary and follow the Atkins diet. Makes a killer side dish to heartier meat-oriented fare, as well.
1 bunch arugula, cleaned and hard stems removed 3-4 medium size parsnips, outer layer peeled 1 medium sized carrot 1 green zucchini 1 C cooked or canned white beans, drained 1/2 C Vidalia onion, thinly sliced 3-4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil 1 tbsp wine vinegar, the kind does not matter (sherry is particularly nice though) Salt and pepper to taste 1/4 tsp chili flakes
- Using a mandolin or hand peeler, shave thin lengthwise strips of the parsnips, carrots and the zucchini until no more decent "tagliatelle" can be peeled.
- Heat a large, heavy-bottomed skillet over high heat. Add the olive oil, and begin sautÈing the onion for two minutes.
- Add the carrots and parsnips, and continue to sautÈ briskly for another minute. Then add the zucchini, and season this mixture with the salt, pepper, and chili flakes. Allow 1-2 minutes for this mixture to reduce in volume and cook through.
- Add the white beans, arugula leaves and the vinegar, toss everything together, and cook just long enough for the leaves to wilt. Serve immediately.
You can go wild and add any fresh herbs you have handy to this; I wouldn't recommend rosemary unless it's used very sparingly, but anything else would work. - blaphbee
"Mediterranean Cornucopia"
This is a take-off on the legend of the Horn of Plenty, one I serve in my restaurant as a side dish to meat-oriented dishes, or else as a dish of its own with other small accompaniments. It never fails to win them over.
For the pastry cornucopia:
1-2 sheets of store-bought puff pastry (depending on size) a six-to-seven inch wide soup bowl four six-to-seven inch wide circles of thin cardboard (old cereal boxes work great for this) aluminum foil aerosol spray fat
For the ratatouille:
extra virgin olive oil 8oz of canned whole tomatoes, roughly crushed by hand 2 medium white onions, diced 4 cloves of garlic, sliced thin A healthy pinch of saffron 3 red and 3 green bell peppers, diced 1/4" pieces 1 large eggplant, diced 1/4" 2 green and 2 yellow zucchini, diced 1/4"
Possible additions to the ratatouille: halved olives, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, etc.
- Take the cardboard circles, and grab an exacto knife. Find the center of each circle, and cut a radius on all four. Fold these circles around so that you end up with four distinct cone-shapes, each with a 3-4 inch wide mouth. Seal this with two staples across the overlapping seam. Take some tin foil and cover the outside of the cones over tightly, and try to keep the foil as smooth as possible (this will only benefit you in the long run). Spray these lightly with the aerosol fat, and set aside on a baking sheet. Set your oven to 400F.
- Roll out the puff pastry to an eighth of an inch thickness, and set the bowl mouth over it so that you can either end up with four circles of pastry per sheet, or two circles, depending on the size of the sheets. Cut around the circumference with a knife. Once done, cut out one quarter of the pastry circle, and drape these circles lightly over the foil cones (the top of the cones could puncture the pastry, which isn't necessarily bad, but be careful all the same), and smooth the wrinkles in the dough out so that a homogenous exterior surface is achieved. Spray the outside of the cones with fat, and place in the middle of the oven for 14-17 minutes - this may take longer or shorter depending on the unreliability of your oven. You're looking for a golden brown, puffed appearance. If you wish, spray the scraps of puff pastry you have left with the fat, lightly sprinkle on some sugar and bake along with the cornucopias for about the same time, for a snack while you prepare the rest of the meal. Once they're out, give them two minutes before you attempt removal from the cones (this can be tricky, but the necessary technique is to lightly hold the pastry itself while gently twisting the cardboard slightly. It will eventually give way. You will appreciate the care you took in smoothing the foil at this stage, I'm sure). Set these aside until you plate the meal.
- The ratatouille: Put a medium soup pot on high heat, and a medium sautÈ pan on high heat (Non stick sautÈ pans work tremendously well here). Add two tbsp of the olive oil to the pot, and add the onion and garlic. Season with salt and pepper and sautÈ these for five minutes. Add the crushed tomatoes and saffron and a touch more salt (not much), and lower the heat to medium low. Simmer this concoction for twenty minutes. Once the pot is turned down, take the by now smoking pan and add 2 tbsp of oil. Add the zucchini BY ITSELF, season with S&P, and sautÈ quickly for two minutes, stirring the whole while. Don't let the heat scare you. After two minutes, these should be just cooked through. Remove from the pan, and place it back on the heat until it smokes again. Repeat the process with the peppers, and then again with the eggplant (however, you will find that the eggplant absorbs all the oil immediately - just keep adding oil so that it sautÈs, instead of dryly burning.).
- Once all this is done, combine the sautÈed vegetables with the sauce, and remove from the heat. When ready to serve, hold the pastry in your hand with a towel, just in case any hot liquid splashes, and spoon in enough filling to come to level with the opening. Place one on each plate so that the cornucopia rests on it's side, and the ratatouille spills out onto the plate. Repeat for the rest of the plates, and spoon the remaining ratatouille on top of what's already spilling out so that it looks as though it truly is filled to bursting. Garnish as you wish, with a sprig of rosemary, an edible flower, anything at all.
Serve with simple roast chicken, grilled lamb, or for that special vegetarian in your life. - blaphbee
