What I'm Reading- A Moment in the Sun

A Moment in the Sun is John Sayles new, monstorous epic that captures the American  moment of imperialist expansion. Running from 1897-1902, it focuses on the the coup in Wlmington NC, the Yukon gold rush, and  staged U.S. wars in the Philippines and Cuba. It runs 935 pages and alternates between gripping, confusing and blah.

There are few women characters in it and none that are developed- Sayles tells only of  a man's man's world then and the presence of women solely from the sidelines seems a real loss. I think the character of Hod and his story has proven the most compelling so far- his story of entering the gold rush fields in the Yukon starts the book and has the feel of both an old rip-roaring yarn and a modern, psychological short story. I'm less interested in /able to follow clearly the war in the Philippines  (This may not bode well for apparently the war in the Phillippines is also the topic of Sayles's next film, Amigo. On the other hand, I can also imagine that this section would work much better on film. It's confusing because it's hard to track- who is who and where everyone is is important but not easy for me to picture.)

What I love about the novel is the language- each section does has a unique feel and sound (although there is also a monotony at times to all the war speak) and most of the language is rich, exotic, and beautiful. I think too few authors try for big anymore and I appreciate that Sayles has. It's a joy to lose yourself in a novel for an hour and know that you still have hours of story to unfold before you. We mostly get that kind of temporal displacement from TV series now, which may partially explain the popularity of shows like The Wire, Deadwood, Mad Men. There's a great joy from getting outside yourself and living in another place, time, and mind. Perhaps it's Sayles work as a filmmaker and writer that allows for him to imagine this grand a stage. A Moment in the Sun is one of the few new books that, like Ulysses, allows for temporal and psychological displacement in such an extended manner.

What I would like to steal from this book is its bigness and grandiosity. Too few writers go big anymore and I want to bring back the big topic, big line, big book, big ambition. What I admire most is what feels like the accuracy of the language. I know how hard that is in a poem- to tackle it in almost 1000 pages of prose seems amazing. I'm neither a huge fan or hater of Sayles's film work, although The Secret of Roan Inish is one of my favorite films to watch. But I like the way his interest in a variety of mediums talks to each other here. A Moment in the Sun argues for the importance of reading, watching, and listening widely.

What I'm Reading/Watching- Marina Abramovic

I recently read Phaidon's Contemporary Artists book about Marina Abramovic. I saw her MOMA retrospective The Artist Is In and was really moved by it and by her presence in the museum. My favorite video pieces were from the Balkan Erotic Epic. I thought they were smart and beautiful. But mostly I like Abramovic's work because she's so present and open in it.

Last night I watched The Order  from Matthew Barney's Cremaster III. The film itself was beautiful and I bought the argument of Barney working as a sculptor in film and I would absolutely go see more from the series.

However, I also thought the film was hiding behind so many layers of, well everything, mythology, flash, silliness, that it just seemed like an elaborate MFA exercise. There was a documentary about Barney afterwards and I, from the moment he opened his mouth, wanted to punch him in the face. It was an endless pile of language meant to obfuscate anything he wanted to say or the film may have wanted to explore.

All of that obfuscation is fine if that's what you want, but he presented himself and his work as heroic. Anything that may have been in stake in that film or in his interview was safely swaddled in clouds and clouds of academic jargon and bullshit (For example, instead of talking about playing football he alluded to his "athletic practice". Dear Suffering Jesus.) which I think immediately drains all the heroicism out of it. It was just a puzzle or a  trick, one Barney played well, but far from heroic.

I do think Abramovic is and has been heroic. While that heroicism took the blatant form of personal danger for awhile, I think her heroicism now- of being well and truly present and open- is so much more moving. I could have stood upstairs and watched her sitting for hours- it was a beautiful, moving exercise.

What I want to steal from her is that presence, that ability not to hide behind words or images, but to tell a truth and not distance myself from that truth.

Here is Abramovic talking about Balkan Erotic Epic. It has a lot of boobies and penises and masturbation and ground humping so don't watch it is you don't want to see those kinds of things.

Labyrinth- Roberto Bolano

I've been at a loss with what to do with this blog. I think it's a good idea to keep one as part of being a poet, but I haven't cared enough about what I'm writing to take the time to do it.
But I've been interested lately in keeping track of what I'm reading, listening to, watching, and looking at while I'm working on a new book, Stay. And then it dawned on me that those are things easily kept up with by blog, especially with a mobile app to blog by. No one else may care, but this should be a handy list of what input is shaping Stay. First up-
Roberto Bolano's Labyrinth in the Jan 23 2012 The New Yorker. (Doesn't the The make you want to punch them a little?)
I'm a little hot/cold with Bolano but I loved this piece for its concrete origins- a picture of Sollers, Kristeva, & some Tel Quel folk that Bolano runs with. There's thick description, some speculative fiction, a little psychology, all beautifully written. It feels beautiful & insightful instead of pretentious & tricky. The ending feels cheap (Since this is posthumous work I wonder if it was just a placeholder ending. DO NOT PUBLISH UNFINISHED WORK BY ME AFTER I DIE. This is my poetic DNR. Although since no one is batting down the doors to publish me alive, I'm probably safe.) but the rest pulls you along & the structured turnbacks are beautiful. I love the imagination & the joy you feel Bolano had in writing it.
I want to steal its combination of smarts & play. Read it for yourself here

People I Love- Sinead O'Connor

I love Sinead O'Connor. I have for a long time. She's the kind of crazy I aspire to, a crazy that comes from not filtering enough and from not being afraid. Which is to say, not really crazy at all. I've seen her a couple of times in concert and she's so there. And not just there to entertain you, but there to tell you what her songs say, to share with you where she is at that exact minute, what they are saying to her and to us in that atmosphere. I find it so heroic and inspirational and it's what I hope to have happen in every reading I give, even in every poem I write.

I love that she's been a lesbian, a Rastafarian, a Catholic priest, the Virgin Mary, and seemingly "got better" from all of them. I love her calling out the Catholic Church for pedophilia decades before anyone else (that was almost 20 years ago now. And if I ever meet Joe Pesci, I'll give him sucha smack. That fat fuck will remember it too.) I love that she isn't ashamed of telling the truth. I love her when I'm not ever sure what she's talking about. (The peeing dogs confuse me but I love the tone, the "on the edge-ness" of the whole piece.) Like Dolly Parton and Rosalyn Carter, I just feel better because she's in the world.

I love that she's had a running series in the Irish Independent about how she's in her 40's, horny, and unable to find suitable male companionship. This is the most graphic discussion of female sexuality I've read in awhile. The unexpurgated versions run on her blog but you can see parts of the series here where she discusses the possibility of fucking a truck she's so frustrated. I can't imagine the good people of Ireland reading these but I suspect they have taken Sinead at her barking best much better than we in the US did from the start.

And really, who would do this anymore? There isn't an artist now that would have the ovaries or the imagination. I still love what she's recording but I also love reading her blog. Keep up to date with her blog here. Hot Press has a new interview with her here that's totally worth checking out as well. She plays the Olympia in Dublin on the 18th of Dec so I hope that means she'll be back around our way soon.

And to end, one of my favorite moments with her. It's a living model of bravery and integrity.

Samuel The Giant

I'm working on a poem about Andre the Giant- research fell on the fun side of things, as research often does. I watched some WrestleMania clips, read some background, and thought about the role of giants in America in general. Fun.

And then. I found out. The fact that changed my life. That will change your life. That ripped apart the space-time continuum to the point I feel like I no longer really live in the same world. This.

I was going to prattle on about research in poems and how brilliant Susan Howe is and how much I love just drowning in a subject for awhile.

But really. That can wait. Because now we live in a world where there is a direct link between this and this.

Writing Groups

Last night, I met with my writing group, the Black Socks. They've been around in one form or another for 25 or 30 years and lots of good folks have moved through there. I joined maybe 6 years ago (??? Note to self- do research before starting blog posts) and they've been a huge help in my growth and success as a writer, such as it is. I get good, solid feedback about what is and isn't working in a poem, I hear a steady stream of poems in all kinds of stages from talented poets with very different voices and goals, and I have a twice a month deadline to have something done worth bringing. Never underestimate the pressure of showing up empty handed as a motivational tool.

All 3 of those factors are huge. We've all been in the middle of a poem and you can no longer tell what's working and what isn't. In fact, being able to identify what's functional and what's not in a poem is probably the biggest thing I've learned. That doesn't mean I don't get surprised sometimes by feedback, but I have a much better sense now of where poems need work and what's "done".

Seeing other people's poems in progress is powerful too. It's very intimate and you begin to get a sense of what order they build in and how the engine of the poem works. That helps me know what drives my own work and what's simply offlimits to revision. Last night, someone didn't like my timekeeping in the poem, it's sort of steady heartbeat, but I wanted that particular heartbeat in that particular form, so I knew I wasn't going to change it.

I'm also a huge believer in exposure and appreciation of radically different types of poems and poets. I know what I want my poems to do right now in my life (live large, evoke big thoughts, feelings, reactions) but I also know I might not always want them to do that. Nor does everyone have to want their poems to do that. Seeing all the things poems do and all the ways they do them helps me a lot, even if I don't always get it or buy in.

I probably get asked more often about writing groups then anything else- do I know one to join, any that are forming, how to start on. I feel lucky I stumbled into one that works for me so I don't know how I would go about joining, finding or forming one, except to say think about diversity of styles (which might look like diversity of age/sex/race/class or might not) and having rigorous feedback. Say what rings with you and what doesn't. Don't let your feelings get hurt and remember the poet is not his/her poem.

What You Should Be Watching on Streaming Netflix- Poetry

Last night, I watched the Korean film, Poetry. It was long, but not too long. I'm not sure what I would have cut from it and many of the long, slow scenes were beautiful and felt worth the time spent in them.

The film is as much about art in general as it is poetry specifically, but I thought it was a lovely reminder that self-awakening and discovery is as much painful and devestating as it is enlightening and invigorating. Perhaps the best part about it was this focus didn't come off as nihilistic or anti-art. It was just a reminder that should you dare to look and create from what you see, the risks are as mighty as the rewards.

Watch the trailer here. The lead actress (Yun Jung-hee) was brilliant and I loved the director's (Lee Chang-dong) statement.
These are times when poetry is dying away. Some lament such loss and others claim, “Poetry deserves to die.” Regardless, people continue to read and write poetry.
What does it mean then to be writing poetry when prospects of
an ongoing future seem dismal? This is a question I want to pose
to the public.
But in fact, it is a question I pose to myself as a filmmaker: What does it mean to be making films at times when films are dying away?