Last weekend was a glorious day, sunny, mid-thirties, which here in Minnesota means it was like walking around in the Bahamas on a breezy summer day. And it was the day they carved the ice sculptures in Rice Park, downtown St. Paul.
And a shout out to F. Scott Fitzgerald, who watches over Rice Park and its sculptures forever and ever.
And a shout out to F. Scott Fitzgerald, who watches over Rice Park and its sculptures forever and ever.
If I were to be kidnapped and dragged to the universe where chaps are worn and not met for tea, this is what it would look like.
A bullriding event is an excellent place to form bizarre fictional plots. For instance, in the above incident, a clown with very large pants attempts to flee an angry bull. This could certainly stand on its own in one of those artistically rendered, painfully long short fiction pieces that one finds in the speculative fiction magazines. But we aspire to more than that. We aspire to plot. We aspire to character development. Who is the clown? How has he arrived? Why are his pants so large? Is it that his pants are so large, or is the real thing here that his pants contain so...little? You see, our clown has reached the far edges of the ring, and safety lies just over the final bar. He reaches, oh yes, he reaches, but--
Well that was lucky, wasn't it? The clown hangs on to his pants for one more day. The valiant cowboy triumphs with his sturdy rope. Perhaps the story is really the cowboy, with his compact horse, and his secret love for the clown, who has provided him with many nights of comfort in the back of a half-empty animal trailer, my goodness, perhaps we are back to the pants after all--
--now this is the sort of twist I wasn't looking for. I had a good thing going there, a sort of bullriding version of Brokeback Mountain, but now I find that I am wrong, so WRONG, that there is not secret love for the clown, no happy bed of straw mussed with streaks of red facepaint and a loose foam nose. No, the cowboy and the clown are members of a bizarre satanic cult of Anglophiles, who conceal the true nature of their love for all things tea and crumpets by pretending to be rough-hewn cowboys, signaling their true Brit-obsession to one another by the affecting of elaborate chaps. Chaps for the chaps, the boys say, chaps for the chaps.
And so concludes this episode of Fiction on the Spot. You may now return to page 322 of James Joyce's Ulysses, to which your left eye has been stuck for six weeks with no forward progress.
This was in Minneapolis, last Saturday night.
A bullriding event is an excellent place to form bizarre fictional plots. For instance, in the above incident, a clown with very large pants attempts to flee an angry bull. This could certainly stand on its own in one of those artistically rendered, painfully long short fiction pieces that one finds in the speculative fiction magazines. But we aspire to more than that. We aspire to plot. We aspire to character development. Who is the clown? How has he arrived? Why are his pants so large? Is it that his pants are so large, or is the real thing here that his pants contain so...little? You see, our clown has reached the far edges of the ring, and safety lies just over the final bar. He reaches, oh yes, he reaches, but--
--now this is the sort of twist I wasn't looking for. I had a good thing going there, a sort of bullriding version of Brokeback Mountain, but now I find that I am wrong, so WRONG, that there is not secret love for the clown, no happy bed of straw mussed with streaks of red facepaint and a loose foam nose. No, the cowboy and the clown are members of a bizarre satanic cult of Anglophiles, who conceal the true nature of their love for all things tea and crumpets by pretending to be rough-hewn cowboys, signaling their true Brit-obsession to one another by the affecting of elaborate chaps. Chaps for the chaps, the boys say, chaps for the chaps.
And so concludes this episode of Fiction on the Spot. You may now return to page 322 of James Joyce's Ulysses, to which your left eye has been stuck for six weeks with no forward progress.
Cattails on Coon Lake, Anoka County, MN. On a sunny afternoon the winter here is so beautiful, but for the last several days it's been mostly dreary, cloudy, foggy, melty. Our January thaw is coming to an end, however, as temperatures may drop into the minus teens Fahrenheit in a week or so. But these cattails will still be there, on Coon Lake, frozen until spring, when they melt with the snow into the marsh and feed the new green growth of midsummer.
Yep, it's a lit blog. But sometimes I find myself in a movie theater and I say to myself, WTF? Why am I in a movie theater? Shouldn't I be doing something literary? And then I say to myself, "bite me" and I enjoy the movie anyway. So here's some quick reviews of two films out in theaters at the moment. One has a personal connection, the other is based on a celebrated book.
The Great Debaters - Directed by Denzel Washington
I headed to this film because it portrays the world of competitive forensics (speech and debate, not dead bodies), and though it is a world apart from my own forensic experiences, the basic principles of the competition remained remarkably similar. I competed in a slightly different form of debate to what is portrayed in this film (mine was Parliamentary Debate, aka Impromptu Debate; the film shows some sort of modified Lincoln-Douglas type debate).
The cautionary note about this film is that while it is "based on true events", it is not a biographical piece. Some of the leading characters--whose names are changed from the real world--did not even meet in real life. The final debate, in which competitors from a small black college in Texas take down the Harvard debate team, was in real life a debate with the much more forensic-active University of Southern California. It is unlikely that the detailed events of the storyline did take place in exactly the manner portrayed, but from my googling it does sound as if the basic spirit of the era was left very much intact, and the extraordinary accomplishments of the tiny college, which remained undefeated for ten years (unbelievable, but true) and was among the first to engage in integrated debates with predominently white colleges, were if anything more impressive than what was portrayed.
There is a review somewhere on the internet criticizing the portrayal of whites in the film as "universally evil"; I didn't see that at all. These were rough times in America, and perhaps still are. Frankly, the Harvard debaters were almost too "noble" to be believed. In the end, it's the story of the Wiley College debaters, not the teams they went up against, and is told from their perspective. It's also the story of their coach, Tolson, a labor activist and later well-known poet, portrayed well by Washington.
As for the realism of the debate itself--most competitive debates aren't nearly as soaring and inspirational as what is portrayed in the film. In addition, as players are randomly assigned "affirmative" or "negative" to a particular debate, they are often left defending unsympathetic positions. That's where the best debaters shine. The Wiley debaters, throughout the film, conveniently argued the most persuasive, sympathetic side (that colleges should be integrated, for example, or another debate in favor of the policies of the New Deal). They certainly didn't build their winning record with such softball positions in real life, and this should be remembered when considering the magnitude of their accomplishments. Overall I'll give it 4 out of 5 for excellent performances and a compelling story, knocking it for a bit of unnecessary inaccuracy that left it open to criticism.
Atonement - Based on the Ian McEwen novel
Ok, decent book. A bit hard on the eyes in terms of POV switching and copious descriptive prose, but a decent book. The movie...well, it's a good example of why not every book should be made into a film.
The novel relies on a rather complex point of view structure that works simply because a competent and generous author helps us from position to position in the partially imaginary world of Briony Tallis. McEwan ensures we have enough foreshadowing, in particular, not to get utterly lost.
In the film, we lose most of the foreshadowing (Briony's success as an author later on is sprung almost as a surprise in the film; it's revealed early on in the book). We lose the chapter transitions that help us switch POVs. Instead we get sudden scene changes that make little sense to someone who has not read the book. The device of playing the same scene twice from different perspectives, key in the book, isn't easily understood by the uninitiated in the film, and doesn't happen consistently enough in the film for the viewer to trust what is happening and how. As the POV switches got more complex toward the end, my moviegoing companion was completely lost.
The whole idea of using fiction to create a happy ending for those whom we have wronged and lost is beautiful and compelling; there is a moment of lucidity near the end of the film when we see this with an older Briony. As the film unfolds, though, we fail to see Briony's moment of truth, the transformation from a nearly evil child to a repentant adult. This key transition is explained as nothing more than "growing up". In the hands of two very reserved actresses, this leaves Briony's character perpetually cold and the tragedies of the film feel pointless. Matched with music that several in the theater commented was "depressing," and the inevitably superficial portrayal of secondary characters that add a lot to the book, and I left thinking that this story belongs on the page, under the care of Ian McEwan's pen, and off the screen.
Performances: James McAvoy is wonderful as usual. Keira Nightly overacts severely, also as usual. 3 out of 5.
The Great Debaters - Directed by Denzel Washington
I headed to this film because it portrays the world of competitive forensics (speech and debate, not dead bodies), and though it is a world apart from my own forensic experiences, the basic principles of the competition remained remarkably similar. I competed in a slightly different form of debate to what is portrayed in this film (mine was Parliamentary Debate, aka Impromptu Debate; the film shows some sort of modified Lincoln-Douglas type debate).
The cautionary note about this film is that while it is "based on true events", it is not a biographical piece. Some of the leading characters--whose names are changed from the real world--did not even meet in real life. The final debate, in which competitors from a small black college in Texas take down the Harvard debate team, was in real life a debate with the much more forensic-active University of Southern California. It is unlikely that the detailed events of the storyline did take place in exactly the manner portrayed, but from my googling it does sound as if the basic spirit of the era was left very much intact, and the extraordinary accomplishments of the tiny college, which remained undefeated for ten years (unbelievable, but true) and was among the first to engage in integrated debates with predominently white colleges, were if anything more impressive than what was portrayed.
There is a review somewhere on the internet criticizing the portrayal of whites in the film as "universally evil"; I didn't see that at all. These were rough times in America, and perhaps still are. Frankly, the Harvard debaters were almost too "noble" to be believed. In the end, it's the story of the Wiley College debaters, not the teams they went up against, and is told from their perspective. It's also the story of their coach, Tolson, a labor activist and later well-known poet, portrayed well by Washington.
As for the realism of the debate itself--most competitive debates aren't nearly as soaring and inspirational as what is portrayed in the film. In addition, as players are randomly assigned "affirmative" or "negative" to a particular debate, they are often left defending unsympathetic positions. That's where the best debaters shine. The Wiley debaters, throughout the film, conveniently argued the most persuasive, sympathetic side (that colleges should be integrated, for example, or another debate in favor of the policies of the New Deal). They certainly didn't build their winning record with such softball positions in real life, and this should be remembered when considering the magnitude of their accomplishments. Overall I'll give it 4 out of 5 for excellent performances and a compelling story, knocking it for a bit of unnecessary inaccuracy that left it open to criticism.
Atonement - Based on the Ian McEwen novel
Ok, decent book. A bit hard on the eyes in terms of POV switching and copious descriptive prose, but a decent book. The movie...well, it's a good example of why not every book should be made into a film.
The novel relies on a rather complex point of view structure that works simply because a competent and generous author helps us from position to position in the partially imaginary world of Briony Tallis. McEwan ensures we have enough foreshadowing, in particular, not to get utterly lost.
In the film, we lose most of the foreshadowing (Briony's success as an author later on is sprung almost as a surprise in the film; it's revealed early on in the book). We lose the chapter transitions that help us switch POVs. Instead we get sudden scene changes that make little sense to someone who has not read the book. The device of playing the same scene twice from different perspectives, key in the book, isn't easily understood by the uninitiated in the film, and doesn't happen consistently enough in the film for the viewer to trust what is happening and how. As the POV switches got more complex toward the end, my moviegoing companion was completely lost.
The whole idea of using fiction to create a happy ending for those whom we have wronged and lost is beautiful and compelling; there is a moment of lucidity near the end of the film when we see this with an older Briony. As the film unfolds, though, we fail to see Briony's moment of truth, the transformation from a nearly evil child to a repentant adult. This key transition is explained as nothing more than "growing up". In the hands of two very reserved actresses, this leaves Briony's character perpetually cold and the tragedies of the film feel pointless. Matched with music that several in the theater commented was "depressing," and the inevitably superficial portrayal of secondary characters that add a lot to the book, and I left thinking that this story belongs on the page, under the care of Ian McEwan's pen, and off the screen.
Performances: James McAvoy is wonderful as usual. Keira Nightly overacts severely, also as usual. 3 out of 5.
Every year there are thousands of writers retreats available, ranging from a couple of hundred bucks to thousands of dollars for more elaborate surroundings. On a drive up to Bemidji, Minnesota, this weekend, I saw these fishhouses on Lake Mille Lacs, and I thought, now there's a writer's retreat. Nothing but a box on the ice with a hole for catching your dinner. Put yerself out there, and don't let yerself back in 'till the novel's done.
This may be how Stephen King pumps out so much material...or not. Anyhow, perhaps there is something for the writer to learn from the frosty contemplation of ice fisherman, and the icy villages they create on northern lakes each winter.
This may be how Stephen King pumps out so much material...or not. Anyhow, perhaps there is something for the writer to learn from the frosty contemplation of ice fisherman, and the icy villages they create on northern lakes each winter.
I took a drive in the sunshine today, a little alone time before the family dinner. Stopped at Coon Lake County Park, in northern Anoka County, Minnesota, and found a few lonely ice huts already out on the ice, a symptom of our cold winter (in the last few years, December has generally not been cold enough for ice fishing by Christmas). It was cold and quiet, very little wind, bright sunshine. After I stood by the lake's edge for a while, taking pictures, a fellow drove up in his old pickup. He rolled down the window and said, "beautiful, isn't it?" I answered yes, and he smiled, and then rolled up his window and slowly drove away. Days like this bring out the nature lovers, even for a small lake like this one.
My semester in Fiction is over, thankfully, so I'm going to start posting more regularly again. I have to say, the class was a disappointment. I feel like I'm getting into a situation where the MFA program may be interfering with the writing I actually want to be doing right now. Anybody out there have a similar experience? Feel free to leave a comment.
My semester in Fiction is over, thankfully, so I'm going to start posting more regularly again. I have to say, the class was a disappointment. I feel like I'm getting into a situation where the MFA program may be interfering with the writing I actually want to be doing right now. Anybody out there have a similar experience? Feel free to leave a comment.
As writers of nonfiction here in the States worry that they might inadvertently insult their mothers, a fiction writer in Southeast Asia takes a far greater risk for the art. You have to respect someone who still actually lives in Myanmar/Burma writing a book of cutting-edge fiction, and getting international notice for it. Nu Nu Yi Inwa is nominated for a new Asian literature prize.
You write War and Peace. And you say to your self, "Damn, I just wrote War and Peace." And then you say to yourself, "You know what? I don't think I'm done. I think I'll keep writing. 'Cause it just ain't War and Peace until it's long enough to stretch to the moon." But years later, some industrious fellow publishes that first draft, and then...lit fight!
The Unbearable Length of Time it takes to get recognized in your own homeland these days, at least for Milan Kundera, author of "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". But better late than never. Interesting footnote in the article, Kundera hasn't allowed his more recent stuff sold in Czech Republic, because of worries about "the quality of the translation." I'm having a hard enough writing in only one language, so I can imagine the difficulty of porting your stories between two or three.
The vikings are finally invading Spain, but they're being nicer about it than they were to my ancestors in Northern Ireland. It's a literary invasion this time. Books are so much nicer than bloody hands.
Following up on an earlier post about Aussie literature and its fading place for Australian youth, I see that the Australian government will be beefing up Aussie lit offerings in schools.
In a town in Texas a teacher faces possible criminal charges for assigning a Cormac McCarthy book to high schoolers. The book, "Child of God", is often assigned in AP classes. The article reports quite a bit of grassroots support for the teacher, who is well liked and has been sent on paid leave. Nice to see that stereotypes of small town Texas are being challenged by athletes wearing armbands in support of an English teacher. Perhaps the locals have discovered that nothing in any Cormac McCarthy book is any more lurid or graphic than the weekly plotlines of "CSI", "Criminal Minds", or a host of other prime time tv programs...
What? You haven't had enough fall color yet? Shame on you. Redeem yourself below.
At the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum, a jewel of a spot this time of year. Meanwhile, at Carver Park Reserve, the cattails and rushes have gone brown and fall quickly slips away.
The Unbearable Length of Time it takes to get recognized in your own homeland these days, at least for Milan Kundera, author of "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". But better late than never. Interesting footnote in the article, Kundera hasn't allowed his more recent stuff sold in Czech Republic, because of worries about "the quality of the translation." I'm having a hard enough writing in only one language, so I can imagine the difficulty of porting your stories between two or three.
The vikings are finally invading Spain, but they're being nicer about it than they were to my ancestors in Northern Ireland. It's a literary invasion this time. Books are so much nicer than bloody hands.
Following up on an earlier post about Aussie literature and its fading place for Australian youth, I see that the Australian government will be beefing up Aussie lit offerings in schools.
In a town in Texas a teacher faces possible criminal charges for assigning a Cormac McCarthy book to high schoolers. The book, "Child of God", is often assigned in AP classes. The article reports quite a bit of grassroots support for the teacher, who is well liked and has been sent on paid leave. Nice to see that stereotypes of small town Texas are being challenged by athletes wearing armbands in support of an English teacher. Perhaps the locals have discovered that nothing in any Cormac McCarthy book is any more lurid or graphic than the weekly plotlines of "CSI", "Criminal Minds", or a host of other prime time tv programs...
What? You haven't had enough fall color yet? Shame on you. Redeem yourself below.
At the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum, a jewel of a spot this time of year. Meanwhile, at Carver Park Reserve, the cattails and rushes have gone brown and fall quickly slips away.
On the Mississippi near Ft. Snelling State Park, last Saturday. Some people have all the fun.
On an un-literary note, I just found out that scientists are using the ground two blocks from my old apartment to predict when the next apocalyptic earthquake will happen in the San Francisco Bay Area. Their conclusion? Yeah, real soon. Now that I'm safely in Minnesota I can stop nailing my books to the walls.
Ok, let's get semi-literary for a moment. So now JK Rowling acknowledges using Christian themes in the Harry Potter books--something she kept close the chest until the last one was published because--well--we all kinda know how the Christ story goes, and that might ruin the surprise. My disappointment in this revelation isn't that she's using religious imagery. As a British writer she's steeped in a predominently Christian culture, and the symbols and stories of Christianity can often be found in great literature. What disappoints me is that when I read the last Potter book, the parallels to another giant of children's lit--Lewis' The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe--were awfully close. Now with this additional insight that she, like Lewis, was explicitly modeling the Christ crucifixion/resurrection in an epic fantasy--well, in the context of children's fantasy literature, that's already been done in a very big way. When you really go back and look at that last book the whole plot structure of Harry Potter starts getting extremely close to Narnia. Is this formulaic, or just a great narrative tradition?
On an un-literary note, I just found out that scientists are using the ground two blocks from my old apartment to predict when the next apocalyptic earthquake will happen in the San Francisco Bay Area. Their conclusion? Yeah, real soon. Now that I'm safely in Minnesota I can stop nailing my books to the walls.
Ok, let's get semi-literary for a moment. So now JK Rowling acknowledges using Christian themes in the Harry Potter books--something she kept close the chest until the last one was published because--well--we all kinda know how the Christ story goes, and that might ruin the surprise. My disappointment in this revelation isn't that she's using religious imagery. As a British writer she's steeped in a predominently Christian culture, and the symbols and stories of Christianity can often be found in great literature. What disappoints me is that when I read the last Potter book, the parallels to another giant of children's lit--Lewis' The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe--were awfully close. Now with this additional insight that she, like Lewis, was explicitly modeling the Christ crucifixion/resurrection in an epic fantasy--well, in the context of children's fantasy literature, that's already been done in a very big way. When you really go back and look at that last book the whole plot structure of Harry Potter starts getting extremely close to Narnia. Is this formulaic, or just a great narrative tradition?
Ok, so none of us saw this one coming. Doris Lessing grabbed the Nobel prize, and anybody who bet money on Philip Roth is now running from their bookie. I read Lessing's "Memoirs of a Survivior" in college and remember it as a rich but difficult book; I've read none of her recent work. Harold Bloom threw a little hissyfit, and some are worried now that Roth and others will forever be overlooked. But as this Forbes article points out, there may be some genre-rivalry involved in the shock of some critics at her selection. Realistic fiction vs speculative fiction: SUNDAY, SUNDAY, SUNDAY!!!
Ok, I'll stop. Here's a pretty picture. Lake Maria, in central Minnesota, last weekend.
Ok, I'll stop. Here's a pretty picture. Lake Maria, in central Minnesota, last weekend.
