Bonfires In The Sky: What Are You Reading, Winter 2021-22?

Fizzles, I am teaching the Tsing book later this spring, to high schoolers. I like how it is both provocative, investigative, and accessible. Great book.

Natalia Ginzburg - The Dry Heart
William Congreve - Incognita
The Poems of Wilfred Owen

Two novellas, published centuries apart. Congreve, from the 18th century, where love ends well. Ginzburg, from the 20th, where love can't even begin. Owen's poetry is written in between either where his skills from a time spent with late romanticism is used to document something else entirely. He would've probably been a good but minor poet but life had other plans.

“having” ffs > *writing*

Is that some kind of scripting language redirecting its output?

as someone who has never knowingly closed brackets in their life i think i’m just going to have to say “no, it’s just a malfunctioning human correcting themselves”

eg rosenberg

https://i.imgur.com/qm1Q9Qi.jpg

what a mix of timbres and locutions!

right! it’s really… idk, *chewy*.

definitely worth checking Isaac Rosenberg in this respect. a v different background - Lithuanian East London Jews - and an extraordinary letter writer and poetry theorist, as well as having poetry v different from Owen.
― Fizzles, Monday, 7 February 2022 bookmarkflaglink

Thanks Fizzles,I will.

and it doesn’t mind - like the content - flaring out. it’s not looking for internal consistency - that mix, as you say.

I finished The Disappearing Spoon. It stayed a grab bag throughout. Various ideas were knit into its anecdotes, but they were not pursued or developed outside the confines of brief stories that covered four pages at most, but the stories and snippets of elemental chemistry were usually interestingly told. Some were far enough off the beaten path that I don't think I would have encountered them outside this book. So, I found it generally engaging.

xpost “chewy” was completely the wrong word. but there’s no lyrical decorum (in distinction from Owen) and that makes it v exciting to read.

ariosto - orlando furioso

Finished Re-reading Dennis Cooper's George Miles cycle, and also finished Robert Glück's 'Reader,' a now scarce volume of poetry where Glück imitates and pays homage to favorite poets... including Cooper, as well as Shakespeare, Keats, and a number of others. Well worth the $45 spent on it.

I finished the Zizek book ("Living in the End Times") including the 80+ page afterword added to the paperback edition, and it only took me the month of January. Hopefully will pick up the pace by reading shorter books for a bit. Next up is "Beautiful World, Where Are You?" by Sally Rooney. First impression: she's still got it.

Adam Mars-Jones: the writing is always good and perceptive, but the essays are at times flimsy and ill-assorted for a collection. A profile of Boy George (very well done) from before 'Karma Chameleon'! An interview with Marc Almond. A report on the Rolling Stones from ... 1982! (There are so many of these, aren't there: Sunday newspaper interviews with the Stones way past their peak.) Then again, a long LRB essay on some confessional poetry that seems quite bad and tiresome.

But the book does contain some major things, notably the remarkable long essay VENUS ENVY which I tend to feel was the best thing anyone had ever written (c.1990) on Amis and McEwan. AM-J also has a long-standing interest in disability (I'm not sure why exactly), and writes a very long essay here about its representation in mainstream cinema.

Emma Dabiri What White People Can Do next
Short book on racism and anti racism from perspective of Nigerian-Irish writer . I read it overnight. Want to read her Don't Touch My Hair Too.
Quite enjoyed this but it is a small book and I think bite sized to entice new readership into the subject.

The Premonition: A Pandemic Story, Michael Lewis.

Just finished first read of Stop-Time, the apparently hybrid memoir by Frank Conroy, first known to me (via mentions in 70s-early 80s New Yorker and Dowbbeat) as a self-taught, professional jazz pianist and writing instructor.
I say "hybrid memoir" because he taps in, constructs with, a lot of precise detail, incl. exact quotes, dialogue at times, though never boilerplate realness for its own sake, or scene-setting for more sympathy's sake---he could have eidetic memory, up to a point, if that's possible---he recalls walking by a brownstone in middle school age, looking/not looking, refusing/stealing a glance (in character as hell: he even rebels against his proudly refusenik self): it's where, he's always been told, he lived the first eight years of his life, but he's creeped out/drawn to this place that evokes 0 memories on the face of it---but maybe if he were to go inside, get inside, someway---? That process would be boy Conroy-typical too, except he does have also have some sense of when to pull back from dubious endeavors, though can be when they're already in "progress". He's learned, is learning, incl. in asides while writing the book, about teaching, testing himself, and the messy void---his earliest memories, and probably related to the reason he may have shut out earlier ones, incl. his only experience with prescience, of realizing that his father was about to materialize, on unscheduled flight from the latest "rest cure," and chase young Frank under the bed---though his mother has had maybe the same inkling, leaving in the middle of a work shift for the first time ever, to come home just in time.
He also recalls dread of and being drawn toward the everyday vastness of empty winter sky, while relating it to the eyes of the "feeble-minded" men his de facto stepfather of sorts tends in yon cottage, so better not go there again, self. Back in NYC, peeling back the top bread slice the sandwich his mother sent along, "with catatonic rapture, gazing into the paradox" of being consumed with hunger and repulsion--perfect balance of the chronically picky eater!---then the bell rings, and he gets up and leaves.
Yet fascinated also with detail, with the possibility of meaning, and/or just the pleasures of perception, following the beam as well as the dream---at one point, he becomes a yo-yo wizard (this was a huge trend, when the Duncan yo-yo Co. sent roving adepts, demonstrating hi-tech/more durable product, then conducting levels of competition). The different moves, up to The Universe, are elegantly described--turns opt the state-wide contest comes down to who can do the most Loop-de-Loops, whose string happens lasts the longest--a "fat kid's"---but secret knowledge, incl. of his own talent and capacity for self-discipline, stays with him through subsequent zone-outs and zoom-ins. Also understands chess well enough to convey why he loses. Has revelation when sees his Paris friend John Rich's drawing of the parts of a humble Metro lock in motion, a microcosm of motion, caught on the page. (Rich's portrait of the teen future author, featured on the cover of this early edition, is otm visual equivalent of "voice": deep focus/total dilation dark eyes, w braced, skeptical gaze---but also w hilarious pout of outsized lips: apotheosis of resting bitch face in 1953, and fascinating to compare with
cover flap photo of Conroy in '65, still young and etc.)
The jab and flow of jazz piano is suggested by structure (incl a three-line sentence, a two-line sentence, an abrupt fragment, and there's yr graf, followed perhaps by something much more of a network/traffic management), also the aforementioned fascination w void and detail, sometimes the one of the other, also makes me think of negative space, emptiness bordered, defined, made use of by placement of elements around it---rather than just playing fancy notes, notes, notes alla time.

Stop-Time is appropriate use of musical term: when the rest of the world/accompaniment disappears, he keeps sensing, breathing, writing to the other side, sometimes of small spaces, within and between chapters. The book takes itself out of the running, the massing of time as river and sediment, until he has to come up for air, also for driving to London in his sports car, playing jazz, and coming home,to wife and baby, way after dark, on deserted little motorways of the early 60s, is the real blast.

Or so he says as intro and outro.

Ted Hughes: most of RAIN-CHARM FOR THE DUCHY (1992): poems as Poet Laureate.

Sometimes you might be able to admire the artistry here, including the detail of TH's knowledge of flowers, rivers and birds. He does bring his animalistic, nature-oriented poetics to the laureate task.

On the other hand, most of the time he's celebrating royal personages whom we know not to be worthy of the mythology. The nadir has to be a poem celebrating the wedding of ... Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson. Yes, really. It mentions a helicopter. Yes, really.

Of all the poems I've ever encountered of which you could say 'That didn't age well', in 2022 a poem celebrating Prince Andrew probably goes to the top of the list.

Seamus Heaney: AN OPEN LETTER (1983): the pamphlet in which he disaffiliates himself from 'British' poetry. Unsure about this. I suspect that SH was too, as he seems hardly, or rarely, to have reprinted it later. As if it was a one-off that belonged to a moment but shouldn't be repeated.

It's conversational, playful, addresses the relevant editors by name. It makes what might look like strong nationalist statements (and these get quoted most), but, as you might expect with SH, it also tends to reverse those and say it doesn't want to exaggerate. The ending, citing the contents of another poem by Holub, is puzzling, not very well-judged I think as the climax of such a public statement.

Interesting, though, to see him along the way engage with Larkin, Hugh Haughton (whom once I met, not knowing who he was; he was very likeable and friendly), Donald Davie and *The Waste Land*.

Ted Hughes: bad person and worse poet.

Currently taking a break from Dennis Cooper and reading Clark Coolidge's 'Own Face,' a strange and lovely book of poems about self, confession, projection, and identification.

Ted Hughes: bad person and worse poet.

the table: I'd like to see further explanation of this, from you.

A feeling that I, personally, had while reading the book was something like: Hughes had, in real life, been involved in such dark, dodgy events - wouldn't this naturally lead him, as a writer, to a sense of ... what's the word - atonement, sorrow, a refusal to assert authority?

Yet this didn't seem much to be the case. Still, perhaps this volume is not representative. And perhaps my thoughts were naive, or implied a connexion between life and writing that needn't exist.

I realise that the parallel is very, very imprecise, and I don't mean to assert it strongly -- but it now occurs to me to see Hughes and (his poetic subject) Prince Charles this way, as guilty husbands whose celebrated wives both tragically died, and who both went on in public life ... viewed by many as the widower, the husband, but also, oddly, not seeming to be much held back by what happened; both going on into other long-standing relationships. Prince Charles this very week was celebrating the fact that his wife will be 'Queen Consort'.

I stress that the parallel only comes to mind because I've been reading, specifically, Hughes on the Royal Family. But this is what puzzled me about Hughes on the Royal Family: why couldn't he see them more clearly? As the flawed, fated people they were -- especially knowing all that he, from life, happened to know?

I've got a couple dozen pages left in The Premonition: A Pandemic Story. Having just read another pop science book, the contrast is pretty stark in terms of Lewis's skill at conveying science to a lay public through storytelling. He finds interesting people whose lives intersect with the larger story he wants to tell, uses them to hook you in, carefully builds his story in successive layers and never fails to explain what's at the stake in direct human terms.

This was never going to be an uplifting story; it points to too many dunder-headed failures that inevitably led to too much needless suffering and death, but it comes as close as possible, by highlighting the efforts of many people within that failed system who moved heaven and earth to direct it toward better outcomes, and through them suggesting how the system might be mended.

Full Prince Andrew Hughes poem and amusing contemporary news story here

https://apnews.com/article/740aceba9a434164a305cd9c129049ff

Remarkable! As it happens the version in the book omits the opening stanzas about the wedding, and starts with the proposal.

The pinefox, feel like this has been discussed elsewhere on ILX maybe, but Hughes' editing of Plath's works to make them more favorable to him is quite literally unconscionable. A sexist pig more interested in washing his own reputation than the dignity and integrity of Plath's work.

His poetry is lyric garbage, nothing inspired or interesting in it afaic.

Russ's search for the edge reminds me of my father. I am glad Perry is treated within the confines of a happy ending; I haven't finished yet but predict this is how it will end. It is interesting that Russ cares about Clem and Marion and sees the other children as neighbors.

Poster the table: if it has been discussed, in any detail, I haven't seen it. And lots of things get discussed multiple times, so I'd be happy to read more information / views from an ILX poster.

I don't or didn't know this about the editing of Plath's work. (Which is not to say I'm unaware of him being controversial, in general, in his relations with her.)

re the quality of TH's poetry, I'd like to see it demonstrated. In truth I don't know it well enough. His fascination was animals was, perhaps, rare, among English poets of his era.

I seem to recall that Philip Larkin was disparaging about Hughes (and many others, including Heaney), but then an odd thing is: Larkin is routinely chastised as 'right-wing' or whatever, but Hughes' poems celebrating the monarchy may be almost the most right-wing English poems I've ever read.

Pinefox, long story short: Hughes rearranged and cut unflattering sections from Plath's 'Selected' as well as from 'Ariel.' He also admitted to burning parts of other manuscripts and the journals from the last months of her life. All of this was done to protect himself and his own legacy.

If I thought his own work was any good or if he'd displayed any remorse for his actions during his lifetime, I'd cut him some slack, but he never did the latter and I think his work is really conservative tripe.

Nothing in here regarding his editorial role in altering Plath's poetry, but:

What think you of Ted Hughes?

That looks quite a substantial thread, thanks.

This is so old: can't remember if I read some some of Crow beyond excerpts in reviews, but it is or was considered a turning point in his writing, incl. by him:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crow_(poetry)

But this is what puzzled me about Hughes on the Royal Family: why couldn't he see them more clearly? As the flawed, fated people they were -- especially knowing all that he, from life, happened to know?

Forgive me the cynicism, but: I think perhaps he wasn't attempting anything of the sort, seeing the job of poet laureate as one of being sycophantic and glorifying of the Royal Family? And that he was right, in that this was indeed what the Royal Family wanted from him?

TH's poems give the impression that he thinks the UK Royal Family is a glorious institution of mythic proportions, that should be celebrated.

And within that, he doesn't seem to have any problem with celebrating individuals (notably the Queen Mother). He doesn't seem to see much distinction between an institution he thinks absolutely good and the individuals who were, in reality, necessarily more flawed.

Dipping in to Stuart Hall's THE HARD ROAD TO RENEWAL: THATCHERISM AND THE CRISIS OF THE LEFT (1988): impressed anew, and finding it more enjoyable than I'd ever remembered. It's surprising how little Hall's arguments seem dated.

The Inconvenient Indian THomas King
Great book on Native Americans with a focus on Canada where the author hails from I think. I had this recommended to me a few times over eh last couple of years and got sent it for Xmas by my brother.
JUst read a confirmation of the status problem which seems to be intended to reduce the amount of Indians there are of status to minimum so nobody will qualify to be part of the status group that reservations and things are catered to. Similar things seem to be happening to Indians in the US as to who qualifies as a member of a given tribe etc.
I'm now reading a chain of books I've ordered as jnterlibrary loans so this is taking me longer to read than it would have done otherwise. Shame cos it is a great book.

The History of White People Nell Irvin Painter.
Black academic's book on the history of the idea of a white race. I'm just in teh middle of the time when Race Science is showing its hide thoroughly. Just been reading about Ripley and the races of Europe that actually seems to be a rather risible incoherent book on what denotes race that contradicts itself heavily etc but was very popular and seemed to add a scientific sheen to the idea of race. THis Ripley appears to have maintained a reputation until he died .
Very interesting book. Buit again I'm reading like 10 books at the same time so I'm not concentrating on it as heavily as i should be

A Brief History of 7 Killings Marlon James
the novel based on fictional oral statements about the assassination attempt on Bob Marley in 1976. I'm now in 1985 with some of the characters having somewhat moved on and still unpacking who they are etc.
Quite enjoying this. But again taking me months longer to read than I should have done.
Think I will be back for more from the same author though.

White Feminism Koa beck
hawaiian lesbian feminist author tells the story of feminism showing how much of a betrayal of those of non-white status was going on throughout. Just been reading this for the last few days. Think its quite good.

Mande Music Eric Charry
Ethomusicologist tells teh story of the factors leading to the music from the West African peoples. Finding it very interesting after it took me a while to get into it. Seemed a bit dry at first.
Currently on the subject of jelis and the etymology of the idea of griot which appears to be an external term not the one they would call themselves. Actually moved onto the instruments played. Am finding it very interesting though.

Bessie Chris Albertson
biography of blues singer Bessie Smith first published in 1972 and this is an update from over the last couple of decades. Very interesting and had me wanting to listen to her so I picked up one cd of hers. may get another more comprehensive one.
Shame she died when she did did appear she was just about to change her style and return to some level of popularity. This book destroys the myth about her being taken to a white hospital and dying as a result. She was found by a surgeon a while after the accident who happened to be off fishing so was around early in the morning, she was then taken to the black hospital in the area where they did the best to save her for several hours but she was too deep in shock. Story seems to have taken a lot of weight from being repeated by John Hammond in a column he wrote despite having other contradicting information at the time and he comes across as a bit of an a-hole from other things in the book. Destroying the career of Bessie's sometime companion Ruby for one despite promising to help her.

i finished outline, it only took me this long because i read every chapter twice

i am now rereading written on the body by jeanette winterson ;_;

Brad, based on my minuscule internet experience of you, I would recommend one of the last two Gwendoline Rileys

oh wow thank you for the rec!!!

lmao i have actually read gwendoline riley, i made the ebook for the melville house printing of first love, i did think it was very dope and i need to give it a more focused read

Continuing my recent trend of mainly reading things that are a relatively easy reach, I'm already past the midway mark of The Light of Day, Eric Ambler. Apparently this novel formed the basis for the film Topkapi.

It's very well thought out and manages to maintain a consistent veneer of acceptable plausibility while spinning out a very intricate plot about very improbable events. I guess it would generally be called a 'thriller', but it has many elements of a 'puzzle play'.

I read it years ago so am not remembering fully, is it told by the character played by peter Ustinov in the film. Which would indicate a decidedly unreliable narrator.

I think the Light of Day is the name of the jewel that is being stolen from the Topkapi museum

On Stuart Hall: particular essays:

Cold Comfort Farm - on Broadwater Farm, racism and police in the 1980s

No Light at the End of the Tunnel - an outstanding analysis of the state of Thatcherism and the UK in 1986 - stands up as well as anything by anyone

Authoritarian Populism: a reply - entertaining format, to see Hall respond briskly to critics

The book is often compelling. I come back to the fact that it feels - prescient? Not quite that, more that because it was accurate at the time, it's also a good guide to how we got here.

i liked him on It's A Knockout

(i appear to have missed the bit about the child sex offences) 8(