Sat 14 Mar 2009

Execution, 1928 Style

Posted by Haunted Typeboxer under The Museum of Unremarkable Ephemera
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Here, from “The Volume Library” of 1928 (A Concise, Graded Repository of Practical and Cultural Knowledge Designed for both Instruction and Reference), is a useful bit of information on the methods of execution practiced in different countries, as well as signifying the publicity of the executions. Of particular note is the technological advancement shown by the United States.

Perhaps even more interesting is the item’s placement in the miscellany: between “Echo” and “Expectation of Life.”

 

Methods of Execution by Country (1928)

Methods of Execution by Country (1928)

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Fri 13 Mar 2009

Insane Intelligence

Posted by Haunted Typeboxer under Literature
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The question that runs through Quixote is whether or not the “knight” is mad. And it’s not just the reader that asks it. The characters do too. From those encountered in route, to the loyal squire, Sancho, the debate rages across Spain and even all of La Mancha (Cervantes used this joke twice, I will use it once).

I can’t judge Quixote’s sanity, but what I can judge, or at least opine on, is how the argument reveals something about the 17th Century’s idea of madness (and our own). Despite Quixote’s obvious outward signs of madness (charging a flock of sheep, wearing a barber’s basin on his head, etc.), many of those who meet him hold this judgement in reserve. The reason? His intelligence. Those who meet him marvel at his contradictory nature: the aforementioned signs of delusion versus his lucid explanations of philosophical concepts. Such contradictions create cognitive dissonance in the 17th century mind. But in ours?

I was talking to a friend of mine about this dichotomy, how alien it seemed to me. Those of us in the twenty-centuries are accustomed to the idea of madmen being geniuses—it’s de rigeur. So much so that anyone who wants to be perceived as a genius, takes on the colors of madness, builds a mythology of irrational acts. I think of Dali who, naturally, illustrated Quixote, but the list goes on: Crispin Glover, Marilyn Manson, Truman Capote, Thomas Pynchon. I think it’s a fin de siecle trend, and we see the genesis in Van Gogh, Rimbaud, even Poe. Genius = Madness.

But not so in 17th c.  Spain. No, here madness has its equivalency with idiocy. After all, it’s still the dark ages of what we now know as psychology. At some point it all changed. The insane could be ingenious. It may be that our Knight of the Sorrowful Face, with Hamlet as accomplice, ushered in this idea even before that dutch painter removed part of his ear.

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Thu 12 Mar 2009

Idol/Quixote {Spoils and Spoilers Enclosed}

Posted by Haunted Typeboxer under Literature, The Popular Entertainments
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Idol is starting to get sad. I don’t mean that in a pejorative sense (not the way Simon did when he used it to describe Anoop‘s performance). No, it’s sad to see these people go. This means I’m so far gone in this American Idol mess that there’s no other way out then to finish the season. But it’s going to be hard.

Yes, it’s hard to say goodbye to Jorge Nunez, who broke down into a bilingual thank-you speech when he found out he made it into the top 12  13. He’s cute, his voice has a good tone, and he brought genuine emotion to every performance (save the last, he just wasn’t cut-out for Michael Jackson and he floundered when the judges asked him about it). We also said farewell to sixteen-year-old Jasmine Murray, who seemed like one of Idol’s brightest stars. Her R&B vocals should have been able to carry Michael Jackson. Still, she was up against my girl Megan Joy. With her tatts and her love of Bjork, she’s got my heart.

This involvement is unnerving, but let us turn to Don Quixote, because his quest too lacks neither heartbreak nor travails. And suddenly a question of his madness starts to ripple through the book. Volume II is more philosophical and the Knight, in turn, is seemingly more lucid. In fact, it’s a good XXVI (26!) chapters before Quixote enters into unprovoked combat. Whereas in Volume I, he saw enemies in every cart and procession, in Volume II he’s more likely to enter into conversation than to draw his sword. But here is the line which breaks our understanding of Quixote:

“this was the first day he really knew and believed he was a true knight errant and not a fantastic one…”

Actually, this is not the first time. Earlier we learn that the Knight of the Sorrowful Face Lions is said to have retracted a portion of his adventure, claiming he “had invented it because he thought it was consonant and compatible with the adventures he had read in his histories.” So, Sir Knight, how mad are you? Are you just pretending?

It’s a good question and not a question that we’re unprepared for. Twice we are presented with the question of the difference between going mad and choosing to go mad. Quixote presents the argument in the mountains of Sierra Moreno claiming it is superior to choose—his reasoning having to do with the nobility of sacrifice, penance. The Knight of Mirrors makes a similar claim, though on slightly different grounds: “The difference between those two madmen is that the one who can’t help it will always be mad, and the one who chooses can stop whenever he wants to.”

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Tue 10 Mar 2009

This is not your beautiful bank account…

Posted by Haunted Typeboxer under Literature
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Websites that you visit often know you. Or they know your cookie. And they recognize you. Like a good friend, they say, “hello.” But unlike a good friend, unless your friend is Rod Serling or David Byrne, they give you a curious option. My online bank, for instance, has a link that says: “I’m not Kent.”

I’m not exaggerating when I say that it sometimes sends me reeling, that it sometimes seems like either: a) a distinct possibility, or b), a viable option. It depends on my optimism, but the feeling is the same. And so are the roots. It’s a little postmodern and a little nouveau vague, a little depression and a little bit of 21st century alienation. It’s born of a lot of things, not the least of which being a life that’s increasingly mediated through technology. There are other things too: a lost job, artistic ennui, the pressure-sensitive door at the supermarket not opening for me. In short: oh, godless universe, who am I?

I’ve long known that identity is a thing that’s built of component parts, just as I’ve felt that there is no plan, no order, no meaning. It’s just that there wasn’t always a feeling of fear and even doubt that came along with it (a contradiction, sure). But hey, I’m almost 33—and I still don’t know whom I want to be.

There are stories where an ordinary man becomes a man without a past, a plebeian turned assassin*, an amnesiac, a prisoner who dreams his execution anew every time he dies**, any of a number of narratives—many of them violent—about the arbitrary nature of identity. Yes, too, there are narratives where old men think they’re Knights (but that’s another story).

If “I’m not Kent” is a condition, I’m  not sure what will become of me. And if it’s an option and I click it, I may scream as loud as I can: “My God, what have I done!”

*Manchette’s 3 To Kill

**The Twilight Zone: Shadow Play

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Sat 7 Mar 2009

Watching the ‘Watchmen’

Posted by Haunted Typeboxer under The Popular Entertainments
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I saw ‘Watchmen’ today, and if I were to boil it down to one quip, it would be thus: Not that good, not that bad, not that necessary. That sounds reductive and flip, but there’s some real insight there. It’s not to say that ‘Watchmen’ is a bad film, or not even worth the time. To be honest, I feel like I had a dream about the graphic novel: some of it is vivid and spot on, and other parts are sparse and ham-handed. A film version of the massive graphic novel poses two questions: one, is it enough for fans, and two, is it enough for those that have never read the book.

I’ve read the book a few a times. The movie is hit and miss. But where it hits, I think it really does. The early part of the film deftly juggles the multiple threads, multiple flashbacks, the voice-over, and a vast array of characters. In terms of the adaptation, it’s hard to point to any place that it goes really wrong (film criticisms later). But even if it was the best damn movie ever, what would it have to offer to the hardcore comic fan? What could we ever want from a film that the graphic novel doesn’t possess? In a sense we’re asking for a trial, not a film. A challenge, not cinema.

So, as a film? As a stand-alone entertainment, does it work? There are some bad choices in the film, the use of pop music chief among them. And while some performances are excellent, such as former Bad News Bear, Jackie Earle Haley, as Rorschach, some are not. Malin Akerman’s line readings as Laurie are really just line readings. It’s too bad because because she’s every inch the sexy super-heroine, but a lot of the plot pivots on her, so it’s too bad she’s not a better actress.  The violence is gruesome, but the fighting comes strait from the ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’ school of fight choreography, a tired vernacular of slow-mo running kicks and body-flipping punches that makes the film (set in the mid 80s) feel  anachronistic at times. Yet the whole thing feels a little flat by the end. Then again, I feel that way about the graphic novel too.*

At its best, the film provides fluid quotes from the graphic novel, tableaus that are formed into the simultaneously dense and sprawling storyline. The storyline is what makes ‘Watchmen’ problematic and unlike the other superhero movies. While the creators of the Batman, Superman, Spiderman, Hulk, Iron Man (who am I missing?) films have the luxury of picking and choosing from the mythos to make their narrative, ‘Watchmen’ is about recreating a storyline. These are not the alternative adventures of the Watchmen. Because of that the film probably falls flat for fans of the comic (it’s too reductive), and probably also fails those who haven’t read it (it’s too complex, somehow too niche-y).

 

*There’s something about the ending which I’ve always found disappointing, perhaps because the book’s main strength is the way it deals with the personal. The ending is suddenly universal, more theory than the dark secrets of the faded super hero.

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Fri 6 Mar 2009

‘Idol’ Evidence

Posted by Haunted Typeboxer under The Popular Entertainments
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Lest there be any doubt that I am watching ‘American Idol’ here is the proof. And not just watching, not some detached analyses about the spectacle where I remain aloof about the results, but actually participating! These are the notes my wife and I have been keeping. And not that ‘Idol’ is  some kind of judgement on the viewers—no! it’s about the contestants—our favorites have been making it through. Last night’s wild card round did us right: pop cutie Megan made it in and, in a last-minute, heart-lifting expansion of the final group from twelve to thirteen (not since Mackie was pardoned by the Queen was a last-minute judgement so inspiring), so did Anoop.

idol-copy

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Wed 4 Mar 2009

The Singer with the Sorrowful Face

Posted by Haunted Typeboxer under Literature, The Popular Entertainments
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As the Ingenious Knight Don Quixote makes his way across Spain, the Idol hopefuls continue to sing their way into the hearts of Americans. I don’t know that this is really a parallel relationship. But it is an introduction to a discussion of last night’s Idol proceedings. For the first two-thirds of the evening, it was pretty hard to pluck out a winner. We had perfectly affable performers doing capable renditions of songs, but nothing stellar. Predictably, the stand-out performance came at the end (if this aint fixed, it’s at least programmed) with Lil Rounds ‘slaying’ some modern pop song (Keyes? Blidge?). It really was good. I guess that’s how I judge Idol: If someone can impress me in a genre I despise.

Still, and I know this is completely politically incorrect, last night’s Idol was ‘special.’ By which I mean, you had the gay guy, the Spanish-speaking guy, and the blind guy. The last two are shoe-ins, both for the aforementioned characteristics, and their performances (and for Jorge’s tears and Spanish-speaking appeal to the voting public). It’s gonna be Lil, Jorge, and Scott. 

And what of the Knight of Rueful Countenance the Sorrowful Face? Quixote confronts a troupe of costumed actors and—surprisingly—takes them for a troupe of costumed actors. For Quixote, everything is transmogrified into an element of his fiction, except this element of honest  illusion (actually this brings to my count two things which are seen as they are, the other being the fulling hammers).

And now Quixote has met his mirror…

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Mon 2 Mar 2009

Quixote Question

Posted by Haunted Typeboxer under Literature
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Having just begun the Second Volume, I’ve a bit of a nag. In the First, Quixote returns home with Sancho, the Barber, and the Curate. At the beginning of the Second Volume, we are informed that the Barber and Curate leave Don Quixote to convalesce for a month. So far, so good. But, in that time the first volume is published and subsequently read widely by the people of Spain. And we know that there was translation of the First Volume from arabic. That’s quite an accelerated schedule!

There are a few possibilities:

One, I’m completely wrong. I missed some marker of time passing.

Two, the explanation is still to come, and it owes to some distortion on the part of Sanson.

Three, that all of Volume One is nothing but a creation of a Volume Two, that the Quixote of V. 2, has just now sprung into being. That Volume One is a pure fiction, in the “real” narrative of Volume Two.

Four, it’s an oversight of the author or printer (like the theft of Sancho’s donkey), yet it’s not noted by either Smollet or Grossman. This, I find improbable.

Five, Cervantes is having it both ways: since some fifteen years elapsed between writing Volumes One and Two for the author, but only one month for the characters (of course the history which forms Volume II would not be “written” until later by the book’s “author.”)

Six, see item “one” above.

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Sat 28 Feb 2009

Don Quixote V. I: In which the blogger makes summary observations and considers switching steeds mid-stream.

Posted by Haunted Typeboxer under Literature
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My plan had been to read something entirely different between volumes of Don Quixote—but that’s not likely to happen. Quixote has a peculiar power, a kind of charm that is felt not just by the reader. Even those who try to save Quixote are entranced by his madness, many even envy it. Quixote leaves his quotidian existence to live romantically, to bring to life narratives that are—to him—as true as the books in the bible. The scope of his madness is captivating: its ability to transform his reality so completely, to accommodate any objection and lay waste to any reason. Its an enchantment that even takes in the book’s main narrator, the one who collects the ‘histories’ that comprise the book. For in these tales of madness, he reports greatness.

And he’s not wrong. Quixote is great. The reader is left to figure out in which way he is great. Because Quixote is a bit of a hazard: attacking innocents, freeing prisoners, robbing barbers of their basins. We would not suffer such madness today, particularly if we were the targets. But to become that mad man, to wield that invincible arm? That we might do.

So while I will not be reading any other book between volumes, I think I will be reading a different Quixote. I’d been reading the Smollet mainly, and using the Grossman as backup. But the more I reference the Grossman, the more I love her dialogue. And I appreciate a vocabulary that’s more familiar to a reader in the 21st century. Though I must say I prefer Smollet’s ‘Knight of the Rueful Countenance’ to Grossman’s ‘Knight of the Sorrowful Face.’ But such are the sacrifices we make in translations.

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Mon 23 Feb 2009

Further Analysis: Corpus Christi Parade

Posted by Haunted Typeboxer under The Museum of Unremarkable Ephemera
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As we analyze the Corpus Christi image further we find unexpected things. We enlarge it. We pass through the crowd. We notice all heads turned towards the procession. All heads?—No! In the lower right corner we notice a man, his head turned as if to see the camera. He wears a bowler (in contrast with so many of his fellows) and his right arm is raised, cocked as if to strike a neighbor, or to raise a weapon against himself!

He takes his eyes from the religious spectacle—breaking not one, but two contracts. That between himself and the object of the parade (devotion! wonder!) and that between himself and the pictorial plane.

Further Analysed!

Further Analysed!

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