WriteReader

Under Capricorn

2008-01-14T23:23:00.000-08:00

I am slowly going through the complete works of Hitchcock. I love Hitchcock films, and I've see all of the more popular ones. A dozen or so that I own I've seen many times. But I'm just now getting to some of the lesser knows, and I want the world to know that I've stumbled upon a masterpiece.

It probably isn't a masterpiece from a Hitchcock perspective. Certainly The Rope (the previous film) and both Stage Fright and Strangers on a Train (the next two films) have that deeper, richer Hitchcock style that keeps you on the edge of your chair and makes the films so compelling and are much more well known as "masterpieces." But this film is definitely a masterpiece of superb acting, most especially by Ingrid Bergman.

About half way through the film Ingrid Bergman has a monologue that is quite compelling. She is going on and on telling her story with such vivid expression, that you scarcely even notice how long she has been talking. It is really pulled off quite masterfully. When it was over, I caught my breath and thought to myself: wow, that was good. I wonder how long that monologue was.

Let me tell you, I don't have a long attention span. Most people talk to me and after about 2 and a half minutes my eyes are glazing over. Dialog is generally much more compelling to listen to, but when it comes to monologue, I can't think of a single script in memorable history, and a single monologue where someone is talking for more than about 3 minutes: because it just doesn't work. People lose interest. Monologue just can't keep you suspenseful for that long.

Well, it was so good that I decided to replay that one scene after the movie was over. The script is well written, but it is absolutely superbly played out! Ms. Bergman was speaking for a full 8 minutes, without the other character saying anything at all. She is walking around her bedroom, makes a full circle around her bed and then circles back, telling her story to Michael Wilding - and it is absolutely riveting for the whole 8 minutes.

They just don't know how to act like that these days. I doubt if there is a single actress or actor in Hollywood that could keep the audience in suspense for a full 8 minute monologue.

Well, I don't want to give anything away, but I'll tell you I found tears well up in the corners of my eyes at one point and actually let out a gasp with a few expletives at another.

I highly recommend this movie: if for nothing more than to get a taste of superb acting that relies upon nothing more but facial expression, hand gestures, and exquisite verbal intonation. (Not to mention the fact that Ms. Bergman was gorgeous.)

Cheers!

the Girl within

2007-06-20T00:09:00.000-07:00

"I was sixty four when I made this film, and I think I finally found the child within. It turned out to be a little girl."

- Terry Gilliam, on Tideland

The unbearable dissymmetry of concept and form

2007-01-06T21:48:00.000-08:00

The unbearable dissymmetry of concept and form

Many years ago I told a friend that I was a "tortured artist".

"You don't need to be a tortured artist," my friend replied. "No one needs to be a tortured artist. Plenty of people become successful artists without ever being tortured artists."

"Well, I assure you," I answered. "In my case it is not a choice. It maybe a choice for some people, but for me it is not a choice. I am tortured because my soul is tortured. Some element of my soul that I cannot control is tortured day and night."

"What does it mean to be a 'tortured artist'?" my friend asked. I knew my friend was waxing didactic at this point, but I went along because I thought it would be interesting and informative to see what she said.

"Well," I answered. "I have no idea what it means for most people to be a tortured artist. But in my case, when I say that I am a tortured artist, it means that I have too many ideas in my head and I cannot possibly express them all. I have ideas and dreams, and colors and shapes, and visions, and voices. Fragments of lines, and incomplete thoughts. Impressions and places, places that do not exist in this universe and places that do, and places that we fear might exist, and places where we long to look. There are places that we dread to bear the sight of, and visions of people and things, both hideous and marvelous at once.

"My head is full of such things night and day, day and night, and I cannot possibly express them all in a meaningful manner in one lifetime."

My friend was just looking at me mystified at this point, and so I continued.

"I have heard of writers block before. From what I understand, the concept is simple: a writer cannot think of what to write any more, so he sits idle for days, weeks, months, sometimes even years. I will never have writers block, because I cannot stop thinking of things to write."

"Don't you think that's a bit full of pride," my friend answered.

I had heard people say this before. I was quite certain they were mistaken.

"I am not boasting of any idea I've had. I'm not boasting of anything I've accomplished. On the contrary, I'm telling you about a mortal affliction. It is an illness. I am a tortured artist, not in name only, but because my soul is tortured day and night by all that I envision, and all that I cannot possibly accomplish."

My friend appeared about to laugh. Yes, just laugh in my face, I thought.

"Don't make yourself always to be a victim," my friend said.

This made me stop and think. Was I making myself a victim? It had never occurred to me that way before.

Well, that was the end of the conversation many years ago. I thought about that for a long time. Was I making myself a victim, by thinking that my lot in life was too much for any one man to handle?

Years later I met someone that told me, "the main thing you have to do is focus. We all have too many ideas. We all sometimes lose ourselves in the rush to be creative in a thousand different directions."

It wasn't long after this I met a man at a writer's conference who couldn't get his books published, couldn't get his poems published, couldn't get his music published, couldn't find anyone to publish his photography, and so on. It made me realize that a person could spread themselves out too thin with the creative instinct, and end up accomplishing nothing at all.

Well, now many years have gone by. I've written half a dozen novels, and self-published two of them, just because I wanted people to read them. I've written hundreds of poems and published the best of them in chapbooks and on the internet - mostly because I cannot stand sending things out to editors who aren't even going to bother to read them in most cases before they send them back and say "I'm sorry, it's not for us." I've also written dozens of stories and some of these I've published here and there on the internet.

I've had my poetry and stories found on the internet by people all over the world, and they've written to me (by email) about them. I've had poems selected for anthologies, and even accepted several requests by people that asked me if they could publish one of my poems in their magazines. I've had my poetry turned into a ballet, and had students ask me if they could quote me in their homework, and I've been interviewed on TV and written about in college newspapers. But I've never made a dime. I've never achieved "success" in gold-plated Hollywood style letters.

At times one becomes weary.

And I have, after all, at last discovered what writer's block is, and become intimately familiar with it. It isn't when you run out of ideas, but rather when you don't know what to do next, and so you just give up and take it easy for a while and stop writing.

You can tell yourself that you just aren't feeling inspired right now. Or, worse, you can tell yourself nothing at all, but simply squander your extra days and hours playing video games or browsing the internet. It is easy to find a hole to sink into; you don't really have to look hard.

But the worst aspect of writers block is remembering that you were once tortured by ideas, and filled with longing to express them, and wondering where that passion went. Is life any better without that passion? Is life any easier?

And then you remember that you actually still have all of those ideas. Perhaps you've found a place to express some of them over the years, but for most of those ideas you are up against a block: The unbearable dissymmetry of concept and form. You want so much, like a God giving flesh to His Son, incarnate those ideas. You want to give them form, but you find yourself helpless to do so. You find that your mind is spinning, whirling in too many directions, and it leads you to a sort of insanity where you are completely incapacitated. It isn't the lack of ideas that is blocking you, but the lack of knowing what to do with them.

Your days become longer, and your dreams deeper. You awake late in the morning, and stay up late at night, because you are afraid to sleep, afraid of what you will find there.

It is the life of a tortured artist. And you are a victim - it isn't your fault. You couldn't have possibly chosen this life for yourself, and you'd be happy to give it all back. But what does giving it back mean? What it will it mean to sleep again in peace by night and awake early in the morning?

It would mean compromise. It would mean giving up.

The tortured artist is the artist that struggles with his own soul, but he does not do this alone, and it is not without meaning. He struggles with his own soul on behalf of humanity. He struggles to find his place in this world, so that others might find their own places. He struggles to find a place for his ideas, not because they are unique, but because they are universal. He struggles to give them flesh, to make them walk, talk and breathe. Even though some of them are foolish, empty, even evil, he must flesh them out, because he knows that along with the bad there is good, and that the good makes it all worth while. In the end, the wood, hay and stubble will be burned up, but the gold, silver and precious stones will endure the fire, and become universally beneficial.

I've found that I was wrong all those years ago. I am susceptible to writers block, but not because I run out of ideas. It happens when I give up the struggle. It happens when I accept mediocrity. It happens when I allow the every day cares of life to triumph over the soulful expression of ideas.

I hope and pray I will not let it happen again!

~ Gustav BenJava, Jan 06, 2007

A flash of Strange Inspiration

2005-11-10T21:30:00.000-08:00

Well, tonight I've had a flash of strange inspiration:

http://fireflash.blogspot.com/

Lately that's been happening a lot. It wrote three separate short-short stories like this in my head on the way to and from work today.

Cheers!

Gus

Writing

2005-10-29T10:42:00.000-07:00

My latest netflix have been sitting downstairs by the TV for three weeks. I've been reading off-and-on, but haven't got anything to report on here.

And that's GOOD!

Because I'm writing again!

I wouldn't say I was "blocked" but I wasn't making any progress on the things I was working on. Well, I went to a concert and I went to Church and things welled up inside my soul and I got to cooking again.

I'm currently re-working "Allisense" , a novel I completed about a year ago. There was a few things that I never quite liked about the work, and I've made notes over the past year and my mind has been churning things around (several times I've sat down and written a page or two about where I'm going) but now I'm actually WORKING on the re-write, and it is a good thing.

Cheers!
Gus
(A Pennybog)

Deeds

2005-09-26T21:29:00.000-07:00

"What's that?"
"A Prarie Oyster, Sir"
"Prarie Oyster?"
"Yes, Sir. It makes the head...
... feel smaller."

I enjoyed watching "Mr. Deeds Goes to Town" tonight.

I had no idea what a Prarie Oyster was, but:
http://cocktails.about.com/library/recipes/blprairieoyster.htm

Well, there you have it.

There's also "Pixilated" - everyone in Mandrake Falls is pixilated!

Cheers!
Gus

Latest Reads and Views

2005-09-24T14:11:00.000-07:00

Interesting things that I should blog about if I ever have time.

These are in no particular order, but things I've read and wanted to blog about. I can't return the books to my library until I've written a line or two. So, here goes...

Recent reads:

Ghost Eater, Frederick Highland
I met Frederick at a meeting of the Seattle Area Mystery Writer's Association. He seemed like such a great guy that I bought his book. I really enjoyed it. It was a good read, entertaining, interesting, kept me turning the pages.

The Collector of Hearts, Joyce Carol Oates
A very interesting collection of her short stories. This began my appreciation for short stories.

White Noise, Don Delilo
Very good reading material. An amazing writer.

The Bright Face of Danger, Max Brand
I read this to get some sort of idea of a traditional "western" - that is, something perfectly in that genre. A good quick read. Entertaining and interesting.

The Long Goodbye, Raymond Chandler
I'm becoming a big Chandler fan. Who can resist Chandler: creator of Phil Marlowe? I also read The Big Sleep recently. Hope to read everything of his some day.

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, Rowling
Of course. I read it in one weekend. I really enjoy her books.

Prostho Plus, Piers Anthony
Who can resist a book about inter-galactic dentistry. I thought it was such a crazy idea that I had to read the book. Really a good book, I enjoyed every minute of it. Also a good introduction to the Sci-Fi genre, in case I ever want to even think about writing in that realm. I liked the book so much that I've purchased 3 or 4 more from him.

Recent Views:

I've been watching pretty much everything by Hitchcock. Last night it was:

"The Trouble With Harry" Hitchcock - a really funny flick. I had no idea Hitchcock ever made a comedy. It also had it's usual suspensefull and haunting moments.

"Suspicion" Hitchcock - a good, suspensefull movie. I wonder if it is the ONLY Hitchcock movie in which (HOLD ON - SPOILER HERE DON'T READ if you don't already know the MOVIE!!) no murder ever takes place.

"Wyatt Earp" - I didn't like it as well as "Tombstone" - but both movies seem to place a heavy emphasis on historical accuracy which is good.

"Dial M for Murder" Hitchcock - another very, very good and suspenseful Hitchcock Flick!! I really liked that one. You don't know right up till the end if "he's going to get away with it."

"Marnie" Hitchcock - a good, interesting and intriguing movie.

"Anatomy of a Murder" Hitchcock - another great classic, and rightly so. Suspenseful - reminds me a bit of Strangers on a Train. Also, who can resist a good movie with Jimmy Stewart in it?

"Sleeper" Woody Allen - I don't know why I picked that particular Woody Allen flick to watch. I love Woody's movies, and it had been a while since I'd seen it, so I saw it again. A lot of fun. A bit crazy...

I've seen a lot more movies than that, and read a bit more than that too, but those are the most notable. Bye for now...
~ Gus ~

Author Intrusion

2004-08-14T15:41:00.000-07:00

Author Intrusion
Director Cameo in the Films of M. Night Shyamalan

Note: Don't read this essay if you've not yet seen The Village and plan to see it. This is a critical essay on the films of M. Night, and I don't hold back on details in any one of his films I've seen, particularly The Village which I just saw yesterday afternoon. If there are any other's of M. Night's films you haven't seen, you might want to be extra careful while you read. There are to some degree or another spoilers here for nearly all his films.

This is intended to be a semi-scholarly essay. Only semi-scholarly because I don't cite reference for anything. That would be too much work for my intentions. But I promise, everything I say below that isn't my own commentary and interpretation can be gleaned from the "bonus material" on Hitchcock's or M. Night's films.

Author Intrusion is a literary device whereby an author inserts himself into the story. It is generally deemed by the status quo of literary establishment to be an error. Good writers, you are taught, avoid author intrusion. The same has always been taught with regard to filmography. Good filmmakers avoid author intrusion. You don't want to "interrupt" the flow of your story with a distraction, particularly by placing yourself into the story somewhere. Unless your story is told in first person (like American Beauty or Nabokov's Lolita) it is just plain wrong (according to the "establishment") to insert yourself into the story.

Alfred Hitchcock, for whom M. Night makes no apology of constantly emulating, was very careful about interrupting the flow of his films. It is well known that he appeared in Cameo inside each of his films, but a careful study of his technique on the matter is revealing. The first time Hitchcock did this it was because he needed an extra to walk through the scene and there wasn't one handy. The second time it happened, he only did it because it seemed an interesting little thing to do the first time - rather like a signature in the corner of a painting. By the time it became a regular thing, however, Hitchcock realized that his fans were intentionally looking for his cameo appearance in each film. So thereafter, Hitchcock intentionally placed his cameo appearance at the start of the film, to get it out of the way so that the audience wouldn't be distracted from the story.

It should be obvious to anyone who has seen one of M. Night's films that he has no such intention. He interjects himself into the film, not simply as a stranger walking by in the background, but as an integral part of the story. I think the particular manner of M. Night's author intrusion tells us something interesting about his intentions in these films.

In The Sixth Sense he plays a doctor who is outside the main action, and yet who is consulted as an expert in some matter. He seems to know much, and of course, we know deep down inside that he knows everything, since it is his story that is being told. In spite of the fact that he is a character in the story, he never divorces himself from the role of directory. In so doing, he takes author intrusion to a new level. We are aware that he's the director even though he's a doctor. By making himself a doctor in the story, we know that he has knowledge, perhaps some intimate knowledge of secrets we cannot yet understand. The "establishment" would think of this as an error on his part, a distraction. On the surface perhaps it is a distraction. Yet on the other hand is it possible that it is a glimpse into some inner meaning of the story? Read on.

In Unbreakable he is a drug dealer in the stadium. He has again a very minor role, but it ends up being a role that is pivotal in the thinking of David Dunn (Bruce Willis). It is this glimpse of evil in the world that makes Dunn snap, and change his course, and realize his place in the scheme of things. Again he has played a very minor role, and again we are aware that he's the director, and he combines somehow the strangeness of this story and his role as storyteller in a unique way. Even by being a part of the evil in the world, he can push people toward the good. And we may conjecture: by being a director that likes to tell tales of the evil in this world, can he ultimately motivate the audience toward the good?

In Signs the author intrusion is taken to a whole new level. Here he is the direct cause (possibly) of the two major conflicts in the film. We wonder if he is responsible for the alien invasion of earth since he has aggravated them by trapping one of them in his basement. But more importantly he is directly responsible for the anguish of the main character Rev. Graham Hess (Mel Gibson) since he has accidentally killed the Reverend's wife in a late night traffic accident. Again he has an insignificant role, only a moment or two of speaking with the main character and then he's gone. But the repercussions of the things he has done ripple out from that and permeate the film.

Finally, there is his brief cameo in The Village. My friends told me before I saw the film that his cameo was much smaller in this film than the others, but I'm not so sure that's the case. When the young fellow security guard goes to the guard station to retrieve the medications that Ivy Walker needs to save her true love, we hear M. Night talking to the young guard and warning him to be careful what he does and says. On the surface it seems insignificant enough, but considering the things he says and his reflection in the medical cabinet glass, perhaps not so. While he is warning the young guard, we get the distinct impression that he knows: that he knows about those people back there, and is devoted to keeping silent on the matter. This is particularly underscored by the fact that he watches the young man steal several bottles of antibiotics (it is clear in his reflection in the cabinet glass that he sees it and notices it) and yet he does and says nothing about it to the young man. He doesn't even ask.

Again his role as storyteller (director) here is superimposed upon what would seem to be a brief cameo in the movie. Of course he knows about them: it's his story. The fact that people can try to live in a microcosm without any interaction with the rest of the world, and the fact that as director (security guard) he is committed to protecting that right says a lot.

I think, taken as a whole, these cameo appearances say much more than they do individually. The art of storytelling is the timeless art of having a message, a story, and transferring that story to an audience. The astute author (or director) makes the audience feel that they are a part of the story, that the story is a part of them. By seeing someone inside the story, whom the audience knows to exist outside the story, the audience is drawn in even more. The boundary between fantasy and the real world is broken. If those from the outside world can exist inside the story, perhaps we can also. This, I believe, reinforces the inner message that seems to be present in M. Night's films: that of empathy and the interconnectedness of people and their stories. His films resonate with the repercussions that each of our decisions in life have on the world around us. If we put ourselves in the place of the storyteller, we find that we can be the ones that push someone over the edge toward either good or evil. We find that our tiniest mistakes and most random musings can have drastic consequences in the lives of others and in the world all around us.

Far from being random acts of a narcissistic personality, I think M. Night's cameos have an important and meaningful place in his films. They go much further than those of his famous predecessor Alfred Hitchcock, but not in a casual and off-hand manner. Not only are they not mistakes, but they are highly meaningful juxtapositions of the world within the film and the world outside the film, that add to the depth of the story being told. When taken at their face value, the uncritical viewer could think that he might just as well have walked past in a scene with dog on a leash or something. Yet when one considers the significance of each cameo appearance, it becomes obvious that his cameo is so tightly integrated his with the plot there is not a single other role in the film that could have had M. Night taking the part.

I, for one, think I am going to be looking at his cameo appearances in a new light from now on.

Gus

White Noise, etc.

2004-05-30T23:30:00.000-07:00

Great Recent Reads

***** White Noise, Don Delillo
**** The Whore's Child and Other Stories, Richard Russo
**** Naked, David Sedaris
**** Reservation Blues, Sherman Alexie

And prior to those:
***** The Collector of Hearts, Joyce Carol Oates

some short stories and selections from:
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, Sherman Alexie
Close Range, Annie Proulx
Poets on Painters, McClatchy
And:
"The Case of Amontillado" Edgar Allen Poe
"Bartleby The Scrivener" Herman Melville
"Araby" and "Portrait of an Artist as a Young May" and "Clay" James Joyce
"Barn Burning" William Faulkner
"A Clean, Well-Lighted Place" Ernest Hemingway
"Zaabalawi" Naguib Mahfouz
"A Good Man is Hard to Find" Flannery O'Connor
"A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings" Marquez
"What We Talk About When We Talk About Love" Raymond Carver
"Happy Endings" Margaret Atwood
"The Management of Grief" Bharati Mukherjee
"The Red Convertible" Louise Erdrich

***** "Mimsy Were The Borogoves" Lewis Padgett
"N Day" Philip Latham

These last two were in a book I found called "A Treasury of Science Fiction" And let me say a word or two here about THAT.
"Mimsy Were The Borogoves" by Lewis Padgett is the best thing I have read in years. A remarkable short stories that takes us into the hither-to unknown secret realm of Lewis Caroll.

... and prior to that:

Angels and Demons by Dan Brown

And prior to that I read everything in the Terry Brooks "A Knight of the Word" series. (Three or four books, I can't remember, but it's great stuff. I love Terry Brooks.)

The Legend:
***** = this book is great, if you like my stuff you'll like it.
**** = a really cool read, but I don't write like this
*** = an okay book, but I probably won't read it again
** = an okay book, but I probably won't read anything else by the author
* = don't bother...

Welcome to Write Reader

2004-05-30T22:16:00.000-07:00

Write Reader is my blog for writing about what I read. I love reading all sorts of books, and here are some of my thoughts on them. Some days it may just be nothing more than my recent reading list. Other days it will have some thoughts on various things I've read.

I also write. But if you want to read about what I write you shall have to go elsewhere.

Gus