Nobel for Alice, Hurrah!

It gives me a little bit of hope to hear this morning of Alice Munro getting the Nobel prize. She well deserves it. After my great dismay in learning that evil Putin, a man who lives by the sword, is nominated for the Peace prize, the whole thing completely lost any credibility in my opinion. This restores a little bit of what is lost.
Here's a toast to the Great Alice, to Canadian Literature, and to all the people around the globe who live by their art. They make our lives richer.

Sherman Alexie - What a Fabulous Writer!

I'm reading a collection of short stories of this very good author, and the stories are indeed very short. Yet I find that occasionally I have to halt mid sentence and rest before I can move on to the next line, sometimes the power of his words is too much to bear. He is blunt and unflinching, looks into the lives of Native Americans and offers it to us so plainly it hurts.
It hurts not because we see the situations he writes about from above, or unrelated to other cultures as our circumstances are so very different; no, it hurst because on the basic level of human existence we all hope for the same things. Some of the people who populate his pages are damaged beyond repair, and some still have some hope. No matter where they are on their journey, he follows them around, and lets us have a peak.
Reading his stories is a humbling experience.


“I suddenly understood that if every moment of a book should be taken seriously, then every moment of a life should be taken seriously as well.” Sherman Alexie, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian.

“But none of them laughed as hard about my beautiful brain as I knew my father would have. I miss him, the drunk bastard. I would always feel closest to the man who had most disappointed me.” Sherman Alexie, War Dances.

Poor Blue Jasmine (spoiler alert!)

I tend to not read reviews of movies before I go see them, I love the surprises movies have in store for me. I went to see Blue Jasmine knowing nothing about it except that Woody Allen made it and Cate Blanchett is the lead. So I knew nothing about the homage to Tennessee Williams but I'm so clever I recognized the story line as soon as the boyfriend bursts into a fit of anger and jealousy. Hey - I know this, I thought to myself, this is A Streetcar Named Desire all over again, and better except Marlon The Great isn't there.

What we do get here, rather than the lines of the old play, is a modern take on the fragility of the rich without their money. Woody is best in propelling drama with dialog like nobody else, in every one of his films, a dialog so brilliant you think the actors are making it up on the spot, not a single word out of place or superfluous. A rare quality in movies.
To his aid come the superb casting and design of sets, clothes, atmosphere so natural you feel you're a fly on those walls, be it in the beautiful Hampton's villas or in the hopeless desolation of a San Francisco apartment. It is a well made film, nasty and dark and perfect.

Woody Allen's a bastard, but he knows what he's doing, the bugger. I still think he is a pedophile and guilty of incest. Why do I go to see his movies still is beyond me. I shouldn't. He should have been writing in jail. That's the ugly life at work here - his crimes are not considered criminal because of his fame and because he never officially married the mother of his children. It doesn't change the fact that he married a girl he raised, 35 years his junior, the adopted daughter of his long term common law wife and mother of his biological children, he married the sister of his own kids. This will never be right, no matter how good a writer he is, no matter how he managed to convince himself, the girl, and the world that technically this is all just fine and dandy.

Wooddy Allen is not the first man in the world and surely not the last to be forgiven for serious bad deeds because of his talent, fame, or wealth. Such is the world we live in. Yesterday's news are fast forgotten, and the world moves on. I wonder what legacy he leaves the kids from his newly constructed family. He was writing their drama of a future even before they were born.
I just wish one day someone will be able to write something equally nasty and good about him, in his own style so the truth will be out there, for those who are seeking it.

Books, Water, Skies - A Recipe for Happiness

These are the things I've always been partial to, since my childhood on my father's ships' decks (not his own ship, he was the captain). This combination still works to restore my sense of self: A good book, a sunny day in the proximity of a large body of water.
I've recently finished reading The Book of Ebenezer Le Page by Gerald Basil Edwards. It is a dense masterpiece which took me some time to get through, but well worth it. It was a privilege to spend time with the man in whose voice the book is written, a thoughtful kind and right-hearted man from the isle of Guernsey, who chronicles the changes of the small world around him, and leaves it in the end with only love in his heart. He lives his entire life in one house on the island, yet he never feels restricted. The way he looks at the people around him is timeless and soul-searching.


And now I'm on another long-reaching one, space wise: The Long Ships, by Frans G. Bengtsson. It is the story of the travels and adventures of a viking named Orm, told in a language so bemused and unassuming as to capture the imagination of a child, yet good enough to eat. Great fun. It could be a great adventure film. The fighting, blood, costumes and turn of fortune are perfect for the screen. In fact, there is an old movie based on it. A good one to spend the summer with.

Another Spoon of Sugar

I do apologize (Not)but this Sugar babe is all I can read these days and she is one smart, kind, articulate lady. Here is one pearl of wisdom:

It’s the good ones who smart, and the dumb ones who play it safe.
Dear Sugar, The Rumpus, September 24, 2009.

The Rumpus, and Dear Sugar

While I was looking for the quote I posted earlier, I stumbled upon a wonder of wonders called Dear sugar.
It is an advice column in an online magazine called The Rumpus. I've spent an entire day reading her words and marveling at the scope of this woman's love for humanity, and how well she is able to express that love in words.
Here is one heartbreaking correspondence she had with a grieving father.
Read it with a box of tissues at hand.