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July 30, 2006
How the Right Went Wrong
Patrick Buchanan makes some cogent observations about the present war on terror and the state of conservatives in general.
I was most profoundly disturbed by the brief history of terrorism, and our propensity to forgive it if it was in the "right" cause. Significant recent examples: John Brown's "Bloody Kansas" and Harper's Ferry, Sherman and Sheridan in their march across the south, the fire-bombing of Dresden, and dropping of the atomic bombs at Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Even more disturbing is the propensity of some to use the exact same language as Robespierre, Marat, Lenin, Stalin, and Mao to defend these actions. Yet more sobering, some of these commentators (at least I infer from Zippy's Blog) are "good Catholics." It's amazing what we will allow for our own convenience. And lest you think I'm chiding everyone out there as well--I have to admit the greatest source of disturbance is the question of what I might have done in similar circumstances. I don't exempt myself from the indictment, which makes it all the more important to reflect upon seriously.
Daunting and a little depressing, but recommended.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 12:40 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
The Worst Mistake
TSO makes an interesting and cogent point in this post from which an excerpt foloows:
But the Native American holocaust was a much bigger mistake. The Spanish-American war and the Mexican war were arguably much bigger blots on our record. And yet the ironic thing is that this war is seen as intolerable sin; a co-worker says some scholars say Bush will go down as the worst president in US history. I think whatever error we incurred with respect to Iraq is pretty mild compared to some of the errors of our past, such as slavery. I'm completely at a loss at how this war for an arguably good principle (overthrow of a despot) is somehow more obscene than taking other people's lives for a baser principle (land, power, money). That doesn't make this mistake right but the lack of perspective is astonishing. I feel far more squeamish about our use of the nuclear bomb in WWII than enforcing the ceasefire conditions Hussein repeatedly broke.
I think there is much here to think about, but what I wanted to reflect on wasn't the contention that we have done worse in the past, which I believe to be true, but the perceptions then and now, and why they give me hope.
I think TSO is right in our past blunders. The annhilation of the Native American, the long slavery debacle, and more debatably the Spanish-American War. But the reality is that in the past these were not regarded as blunders, and the people who undertook some of them were regarded as heroes. After the atrocities they committed in the Civil War, in which Sherman and Sheridan proved themselves, they were sent out to the west to commit even worse upon the Native Americans who were already near starvation and being crowded away off of traditional hunting and farming lands. At the time, the explanation, which remains in some part today, amounted to eminent domain. This land could be better exploited for larger numbers if only it were freed of this pesky nuisance.
Slavery was supported and preached about in the South, largely because the rice crop in South Carolina depended nearly exclusively upon the labor of slaves. Certainly, there was probably a good deal of special pleading in some of these sermons, but some were given by solid men of God who had a grave misunderstanding of what scripture spoke of.
Today we are embroiled in a war that could be called at best a mistake and at worst, according to Pat Buchanan (and I won't defend his opinion, because frankly, I don't know), playing into Osama Bin Laden's hands. Buchanan points out that 9/11 was all about getting us involved in a war like the one we launched in Iraq to our detriment, and eventual demise. I don't know that it will happen, nor does Mr. Buchanan seem to think it inevitable, but I think it has been shown that despite laudable goals, it was essentially an unjust war, and we are now reaping the whirlwind we have sown.
But what is wonderful about this is that so many are willing to speak up and express their disapproval. People are no longer being shoe-horned and steam rolled into accepting any party line. Where once we went along with slavery or went along with the annhilation of the Native Americans, now we protest a war some see as imperialist and others view as protectionist (of oil interests.)
I don't know if we are becoming more devisive, more aware, or simply tired of acting as policemen for the world. But I think it will help to promote a good deal more circumspection from those leading the country in the future. At least I pray so. And I think that this war has been very helpful in clarifying the concept of "just war."
For all of these reasons, I find the hue and cry heartening. It may not mean much of anything in the long run, but I hope that it is a sign of some slight maturing. Now, if we could just recapture any real sense of morality with regard to sexual matters and life in general, we might progress overall.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 5:41 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
Blogging Difficulties
One of the most difficult things in the world for me is to keep on topic when writing an entry. I find my mind going a million different directions. If I'm ranting, I want to rant about everything. If I'm writing about the spiritual life, I want to treat the whole of it synthetically.
Blogging is training in mindfulness (to put it in Zen way). Awareness of what you are about, concentration on what you mean to say. A successful entry is one that accomplishes a single thing. Now that thing may be a broad survey or a laser-like minute point. But the successful entry says what needs to be said and quietly ends.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 6:02 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Trois Coleurs: Bleu
The first of a series of three films thematically connected by color and by the meanings of those colors as represented in the French flag stars Juliette Binoche as ayoung woman who loses her husband and her daughter in a car crash. The rest of the film builds on this simple premise, peeling away layers of character and layers of meaning.
Juliette Binoches seeks the liberty that blue represents. But the liberty she seeks is not mere political or economic liberty. She seeks the liberty to live life without really living it--to do life as a walk-on, unattached to anyone or anything. Typical of her approach, "Now I have only one thing left to do: nothing. I don't want any belongings, any memories. No friends, no love. Those are all traps." And yes, they are traps--tender traps, the traps that make us human, as Juliette discovers in the course of the film.
The film presents another kind of liberty as well, a kind of counterpoint to the main theme (which is appropriate because Juliette's husband is hailed all over Europe as one of its finest composers). Ultimately, Juliette discovers the liberty that may only come when the truth is told all around. Her life has been a continual hiding from one truth and another, but as the movie unfolds, she begins to see and understand the truth. And the truth really does set her free from her misconceptions about freedom and how to live.
This is a hard film, there is a new cinematic language in parts. There are about four moments in the film when there is a cut to black that then cuts to a continuation of the same scene. These scenes are shot through with the portentous music that is being composed for the celebration of the Unification of Europe. You know they are meaningful, and yet their meaning is not necessarily what you think until you have seen all of them.
This is a film I will have to rewatch, but only after I have seen the other two. White or Blancis next in order, but I already have Red or Rouge in my possession so that will probably be next. While the films are called a trilogy, they share no characters and don't even occur in the same country.
The director Krzysztof Kieslowski died in 1996 leaving these three films as his final work. And it is hard to imagine how anything before might have compared with the wonder of this one. I can't wait to see the other two.
Highly Recommended--ADULTS ONLY, there are several scenes that would not be appropriate for any child of any age.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:36 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
July 31, 2006
Rashomon
I know, a lot of reviews, but when you have a lot of laundry to take care of, and other relatively immobile housework/repair, one has time for movies. And what a movie!
Akira Kurosawa's 1950 masterpiece remains as relevant and as pointed today as when it was first made. Based of two stories by Akutagawa (who is sometimes called the "Poe of Japan"--I'd say he is the de Maupassant of Japan) Rashomon tells the story of the forest rape of young woman and the murder of her husband. And all of this with neither overt sexuality nor overt bloodshed.
But the events of the story are less important than its telling. The main events are narrated by four different narrators--a bandit, the wife, a witness, and the dead person through a medium. It is this last that gives the film some of its creepier moments, as the medium is a pretty Japanese woman speaking in the voice of a Samurai.
Naturally the four stories do not agree on the details and particularly not on the manner of death of the Samurai. And what you realize is that there is no way for an observer outside the scene based upon the stories alone to say what really happened.
When I finished watching the film, I thought, "Wow, it's just like reading any modern political commentary--Ann Coulter, Al Franken, Pat Buchanan--most are documented to a greater or lesser extent and yet look at the same presidency and the same actions and see entirely different things. And each of the things they see redounds to their greater glory and honor, just as in the film. Odd, no?
Kurosawa managed to give the film a "happy" resolution, which is more than I can hope for from the American Political scene or news scene. I remarked in an email to TSO one time that I didn't see any reason to read a book by John Cornwell because I felt upon finishing anything I had to go and check out everything that had been written.
Kurosawa aptly taps into the human condition, and he does it in the context of a beautifully filmed movie. This is one of those films "in glorious black and white" that just shimmers and explodes off of the screen to come alive in the mind. The questions Kurosawa poses and the lack of a substantive response are disarming and to those unconvinced of the fall of humankind, perhaps a bit disheartening. But they are eye-opening and they are the necessary questions even for today.
Highest possible recommendation--even though you will have to read it and perhaps watch it several times for it to sink in. Also, the Criterion package (I love Criterion produced DVDs) includes a booklet that contains the short stories "Rashomon" and "In the Grove" on which the film was based.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:03 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
Hail the Era of the DVD
Not so long ago, perhaps twenty years, perhaps a bit more, the literature of film was largely inaccessible. We were left to the tender mercies of local television statements to broadcast whatever it was they had available or that they felt would make a splash with television audiences. With the advent of videotape and now DVD, the incredible richness of the cinematic world became largely available. I can think of time during which it would have been impossible to see Rashomon or The Hidden Fortress or Throne of Blood or Ran. In fact, I would guestimate that more than 90% of film literature was inaccessible to most of us.
Now we are at Hollywood's mercy determining what will be trnasferred and thus made available. That's why it is very good to have smaller DVD companies, such as Criterion to find and rescue some of the great old films. In addition to those listed above, Criterion also made available Carl Dreyer's remarkable and moving Passion of Joan of Arc, the haunting Les Yeux sans Visage (Eyes without a Face), and The Seven Samurai among others. In this short list are the films that gave rise to Star Wars and The Magnificent Seven
And lest you think they are simply snootyville, they've also produced the "authoratative" edition of Armageddo.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:15 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Seven Deadly Wonders
Dreadful, dreadful, dreadful, dreadful, dreadful.
One of the worst written, most sloppily composed pieces of diatribe and bad research to hit the anti-Catholic bandwagon. Matthew Reilly, the master of this prose, makes Dan Brown look like a genius in comparison. In addition to the requisite human-sacrificing evil Jesuit, sent by the Vatican to secure the pieces of the golden capstone of the Great Pyramid, the Catholic Church is seen as the sister cult of the Masons, and the two are seen as mere extension of the cult of Amun-Ra. I suppose you all probably weren't aware that "Amen" is a corruption of "Amun" because they didn't include vowels in their writing.
The concept of the story--the golden capstone of the Great Pyramid has been split into several pieces and hidden with the remnants of the seven wonders in places around the world--was intriguing. And this aspect of the plotting is intriguing.
All I can say is I don't think the Catholic world has much to worry about with this one. What I can't understand is how dreck like this gets published while the novels of a certain writer I won't name languish on the shelves (and I'm not referring to myself). Less and less of worth is published and more and more of this type of stuff. What is most difficult is that the premise is so interesting and so promising--and the vitriol aimed at the Church is so acceptable. When people tell you that prejudice is nearly eradicated in the U.S., I would respond that perhaps, except for the oldest one of our nation--anti-Catholicism. Of course, Matt Reilly is Australian, but he's not stupid, he's writing what he thinks will sell. But anti-Catholicism alone isn't sufficient to get a lumbering spineless blob like this off the ground.
NOT recommended, not even for laughs.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:26 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Kingdom of the Ants
Small, lovely, and in Africa, at least, potentially deadly even to cattle and humans. One marvels at the small wonders all around.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 12:06 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
An Apology of Sorts
Perhaps it is more an explanation.
I feel also bad posting so many reviews and talking about so many films because so many people cannot indulge in them; however, the reality is that there will come a time in the not too distant future (praise God) when I'll return to my more infrequent reviews.
Presently my wife and child are not with me. During their absence I sleep a lot less than is normal for me. I fill up all of that "extra" time with my writing and reading and watching of film. When they return, the patterns of life will resume and the reviews will slow to a trickle.
So, I don't really apologize, except in the sense of offering an explanation for, because I know no one was chiding me; however, my guilty conscience observes that this is not normative behavior and it isn't available to all. Take heart, it soon won't be for me either and I look forward to that time. Film, no matter how well crafted or beautifully made is a very small consolation in the absence of those we love most.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 5:06 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
I Will Fight No More Forever
Jeff Culbreath might not agree with Chief Joseph's statement above, but in the close examination of conscience and with a clear eye as to what was happening to his people, Chief Joseph made this promise. I think he was considering the same things Jeff writes about in two posts.
And the answer to Jeff's question is very simple--unless that little girl was walking into your house, country, public place, with a bomb strapped onto her back and the trigger in her hand, it is never licit. Collateral damage is one of those horrible Minitruth phrases that covers up the hideous reality. When we condone even the use of the term "collateral damage," we are complicit in depriving mothers of their children, fathers of their families, and innocents of their lives. The proper term is "civilian deaths and casualties."
"All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing." Granted none of us are good, but surely some of us are good enough to recognize that the slaughter of innocents is not "collateral damage"--it is sheer evil dressed up as necessity. Any person who does not mourn when this happens has become a monster.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:44 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
Ikiru
I can't afford to hate people. I don't have that kind of time.
Among the many lessons that can be derived from this beautiful, compassionate, and sensitive Kurosawa film of 1952, the sentences above resonate both in post-war Japan and in the world today. No one has the time to hate people.
Ikiru means "to live." And the story traces the end of life for one man, Watanabe-san, who has been diagnosed, but not formally told, that he has stomach cancer. He is introduced to us via an x-ray of his stomach and we are told that he has not lived in the past thirty years, he is dead already.
The story follows Watanabe-san's awakening through a night of drunken revel and a few weeks of dating a young woman from his office. About two-thirds of the way through the movie Watanabe-san dies off-stage and the remainder takes place through flashbacks and at his funeral.
It is at the gathering of office workers at the funeral that we get the other piece of wisdom that has not changed in lo! these many years. "Doing anything but nothing is radical." That was the root of Watanabe-san's radicality, he did something other than the nothing that bureaucracy is erected for.
I've already said more than enough about the film and given away too much perhaps because this is a small and intimate film; little details tell too much. Every moment is fraught with meaning, every line carefully considered, every gesture, every action choreographed to the lustrous end. And yet, fraught as it is, it is never heavy nor depressing. It is at times positively light and playful and at others deeply felt. Particularly poignant is a scene in the park where Watanabe-san swings in the snow and sings a song introduced earlier in the film, only this time quite differently.
Don't trust too much the liner notes that talk about this as a modernist existential film tract. As a professor once told me about Shakespeare: bring to it any ideological system and you can make it light up--feminist, socialist, homosexualist, you name it. I have a feeling the same may be true of this film. For the time, it is remarkably forward thinking in the portrayal of women, hence feminist. And already there are the signs of the "think globally, act locally" cant that runs the rounds in many circles today pretending to be thought.
Our lives would all be immeasurably better if we could remember Watanabe-san's words quoted beneath the header. We might consider them the Japanese equivalent of, "She would have been a good woman if there’d been somebody to shoot her every day of her life." Let's rather choose not to make this our emblem and to take after Watanabe-san--a Silas Marner, an Ebeneezer Scrooge, a Watanabe-san after his own fashion.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 11:07 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Political, Philosophical, Moral, or Any Statements
Every now and then, despite the better powers that drive me, I end up making some stupid or overstated remark, usually on matters about which I know nothing. And more and more recently those matters expand to encompass nearly everything. I really have no standing to say anything about war in the Middle East, aesthetics, morality, philosophy, or, in fact anything except what I like or don't like. And perhaps it would be wise for me to remember this is the future before making any more such remarks.
But then, I wouldn't be being me--overreactive, bristly, and perversely irritated by nearly everything. And perhaps taking a vacation from me would serve both me and the blog community well. A little more humility, a lot more restraint. It's one of the reasons for so many reviews recently. I can't think of any other way to at once say something and not make a complete fool of myself.
So this is by way of apology and entreaty--I'm sorry, I have said, I say, and I will say stupid things--overgeneralizations--I am not one for making very fine distinctions--it isn't the way I think about things--I think in broad strokes in the generalizations that hold things together. It isn't an excuse, it's an explanation. I will try to curtail these sorts of remarks. Of course, if offensive, they are easily enough skipped--but it were better that they were never made in the first place. I won't promise anything because my restraint is poor (I'll blame that on Linda's absence as well), but just don't take anything I say too seriously--always consider the source.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 11:55 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
August 1, 2006
Nuance and Ambiguity
I have thought a bit about my tendency to overgeneralize, to leap to conclusions and I have concluded that it comes from my excessively strong "J" aspect personality. I like rules. I like black and white. I don't have much use for the myriad shades of grey, though I admit they exist. I don't care much for nuance in living.
Which is odd because in art I admire fruitful ambiguity--an ambiguity that is deliberate and which gives rise to multiple layers of meaning. But Art is not life, it is not about fashioning a rule-book. Properly done, Art is about discovering the rule-book, uncovering what has always been known through revelation, but making it new again. Art is mimetic, but it is ambiguous in a way that gets us to think and to consider.
There again, I go with the generalizations. Art is probably none of that, but great Art gets at that. Whatever the case may be, I love Art because of the insight I get into God and his mercy through it. I despise nuance because I see it too often misused to side-step the unpleasantness of moral requirements. If one spins it just right. . .
But it is useless to pretend that nuance does not exist and that every rule is always and everywhere exactly the same. It is comforting, but useless. But my role, as artist and even as poor thinker that I am, is to articulate the black and white and leave it up to better thinkers to fill in the shades of grey. We all have our roles, and mine the most humble, but it is mine and it is how I am constructed. No matter how I try, I will be looking for the black and white in everything--and I will accept gladly notification of the shades of grey others discover in between.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:15 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Florence King on Ann Coulter
I'd like to play in this game, but I can't because I dislike Ann Coulter's approach to things in the same way I dislike Maureen Dowd's, Molly Ivin's, and Al Franken's. For me, she unman's any point she may have to make with a vitriolic diatribe directed at tearing down a person--an unacceptable way to relate to others and a poor example. And its a shame because she has some good points. But rather than viewing her points as serious arguments, I'm afraid I look upon her as a largely self-aggrandizing, vicious clown--rather the terrestrial version of Killer Klowns from Outer Space. But that's just my view--I've little patience for those whose mode of argument is embellished with ad hominem remarks of, as Florence would have it, the sledgehammer sort.
Nevertheless, the article is good, and its King's rapier that is my own preferred mode of operation if one must--but mostly one mustn't.
"I can't afford to hate people. I don't have that kind of time."
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:42 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
August 2, 2006
I'm Always Ready to Talk about Books
Book Meme
1. One book that changed your life: Honestly, I'm not certain there are any, the closest might be Tom Sawyer or Winesburg, Ohio.
2. One book that you've read more than once:
See above and add to it Turn of the Screw by Henry James
3. One book you'd want on a desert island:
(excepting the Bible) Tom Sawyer or perhaps Robinson Crusoe (might be something useful there).
4. One book that made you laugh:
The Wit and Wisdom of Oscar Wilde
5. One book that made you cry:
The Kite Runner and I was on the plane-trip home--how embarrassing.
6. One book that you wish had been written:
A really good ghost story like those of M.R. James--either a collection or a novel.
7. One book that you wish had never been written:
The Kinsey Report
8. One book you're currently reading:
The Book of the Dead
9. One book you've been meaning to read:
Gilead--tried three times now to get enough of a running start to get through it--failed miserably.
And I pass this on to TSO, if He's willing, Brandon S., who could answer in the comments, and Zippy, if he has the time and inclination.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 1:36 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
August 3, 2006
You Know Things Are Bad When. . .
I don't know what it was about yesterday.
On the way home I was stopped at a traffic light where there was a woman claiming to be a homeless veteran holding up a sign asking for money. It was a gorgeous day, even if 95-96 degrees and I was driving, as usual, with my windows down. (I live in Florida so I can ENJOY the weather, not hide from it--if I wanted it to be 76 year-round I'd move to San Diego.) I didn't have any money--nothing smaller than a fifty in my wallet or in my car and I didn't do what I usually do in such circumstance--roll up my window. (I need to remember to carry a stock of small bills for just this kind of thing--problem is if I carry small denominations I just fritter the money away.)
I must have been looking sheepish/guilty and/or tired/weary. (How's that--three word pairs in a row? To quote a one-time hero, "I meant to do that.") She said to me, "Honey, you got to smile--it just cain't be that bad."
That did, in fact, make me smile. She continued collecting money, and I must have returned to whatever ruminations I was in because she was back and said. 'Come on, smile. What's that pink ball doing on your antenna?" (We have a pink Minnie Mouse/Cinderella's Castle ornament on the antenna--Linda's Idea--used to be stars and stripes Mickey.) And of course the silliness of the antenna bob made me smile again along with embarrassment at being offered encouragement by one who certainly had no reason to be encouraged, God love her.
So I got a lesson on smiling and wonder what it was I must have looked like to that woman on the corner. What a wonderful, humbling experience--to get a lesson on life from one who lives much closer to the bone.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:13 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Catholic Small Presses
I received a book the other day in the mail--the newest from Zaccheus Press--Hammer and Fire by Father Raphael Simon, O.C.S.O. And it prompted me to make a plea to all to support these fine small Catholic presses. If we want quality literature and quality Catholic writing, we owe it to ourselves to support presses like Zaccheus and our own Requiem Press run by blogger Jim Curley of Bethune Catholic.
I will confess I do not do this enough, but then you can ask my wife, I don't buy any book at full price any more (an economy necessary with a single income). The few that I buy are from such places. In this case I am deeply indebted to Mr. O'Leary of Zaccheus Press, who very kindly sent me a copy of the newest release without so much as a request on my part. And it is another very fine publication as far as I can tell with a brief survey of the book. I'll be sure to keep you informed as I continue to read. Mr. O'Leary's Press produces other books that are available through the address above and are also distributed by Ignatius Press, or have been so far. Every one of them comes with an unqualified recommendation. They are beautifully produced and substantial volumes, both in construction and in instruction: Christ, Life of the Soul by Don Columba Marmion, Our Lady and the Church, by Fr. Hugo Rahner, and A Key to the Doctrine of the Eucharist by Abbot Vonier. All have been well worth while and well worth reading. If it is within our means, we owe it to ourselves and others to support such worthwhile endeavors as those of Mr. O'Leary and Mr. Curley.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:22 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Authentic Religion
from Hammer and Fire Father Raphael Simon, OCSOThe human personality can only be transformed by truth, goodness, and beauty. Everyone seeks a real or apparent goodness. Everyone has an ultimate end which actuates his or her life, be it pleasure, self-enhancement, a career, service or goodness itself: God. This ultimate end is the person's religion. But there are false religions and true ones, authentic religions and inauthentic, a complete religion and incomplete religions. . . .
This book is about the authentic, the true, the beautiful and goodness itself--the true ultimate ground of human existence and development. That is known by true philosophy which has the full use of reason and is harmonious with science, but it is known even more by the Revelation of God, Who Himself is the sure ground of truth and goodness. Moreover He has the power to make known to humankind His own inner life, which He has done in sending us His Own Son, Jesus Christ and His Spirit.
The goal of the book is to outline a plan of transforming union with God and thus human happiness. The effectiveness of the book depends upon how well disposed one is to hear and implement the plan despite one's own inclinations to read another book on the same subject or watch another film on any subject in preference to what one really ought to be doing. Nevertheless, it is in the constant remember that one hears His voice and is brought back around to doing what one ought to do. Books such as this one serve the extremely important role of being border collies responding sensitively to the commands of the One True Shepherd. They harry one and nip at one's heels and assure one of the passage to home and safety--the way back to the Shepherd.
May it be so for me as I read it and for all of you who pick it up to try to follow the way back.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:22 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Please Use the Comments Box and Say Hello!
I miss out on so much because my stats counter doesn't filter a lot of stuff and after the first few days of the month people who visit from distant lands are pushed to the bottom that I cannot read while the spiders rule. This month I was fortunate enough to find among my visitors a very interesting site with a most interesting name and epigraph Jelly-Pinched Theatre appears to be a site interested both in Relgion and, most interestingly, The Literary Gothic--one of my very favorite sites. I never fail to be amazed when I encounter persons with similar taste among the faithful; but then I suppose that is why we are the Catholic Church rather than the "almost-Catholic Church."
Visit if you're so inclined for a nice review of Lady in the Water among other delights.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:52 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
Where Is Truth to be Found?
According to this article found at Western Confucian, the one defense offered for Israel's actions against the Lebanese is false.
This is one of the reasons why I rarely bother with the news. Is this article reporting the truth? Is CNN reporting the truth? Does the truth lie somewhere between? How are we to discern justice if we can't know the plain facts of the matter? Where is truth to be found in reporting? Where is enough of the bias stripped away that there is some discernible smidgen of reality? In this case I do not know if it can be because whoever is reporting has such a strong bias one way or the other in the matter.
However, if it is true, what does THAT say about the conflict? We need to be careful to separate the unquestionable right and responsibility of Israel to protect its people from a carte blanche to do whatever is required. We must support Israel as a sovereign nation while reining in the impulse to smash everything around them that might give rise to difficulty--an understandable impulse in an unstable part of the world.
I am a supporter of Israel and of her people, but not one who is willing to say that everything done in the name of defense is defensible. As with so many things I simply don't know, and frankly I don't even know how to find out. Whatever may be the truth I have grave misgivings about the present approach to the resolution of the difficulties between Israel and Lebanon. But I also have no advice to give on how to secure one's homeland in a fair and equitable way.
But back to the point--how do we know the truth?
Posted by Steven Riddle at 11:34 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
August 4, 2006
The Subtle Art of the Subtitle
An example from Blanc:
Actual Line: Dites-moi quelque choses.
Translation: Say something (or several things) to me.
Subtitle: Say anything.
Actual line: N'importe quoi.
Translation: It doesn't matter what.
Subtitle: Anything.
The art of the subtitle is to try to get across the essence of a spoken passage without tiring the viewer by having him or her read the entire script/spoken part of the film. But sometimes the compression goes too far, and something is lost. Fortunately, in French films, I am less reliant on the subtitles than I am in other foreign language films. Blanc, however, is in French and Polish, so I'm only halfway home.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 6:37 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
The Book of the Dead
A light read in the tradition of Preston and Cloud, The Book of the Dead is the third, and perhaps best of the "Brothers Pendergast" trilogy. Now, this trilogy in no way compares with one more familiar to Catholic readers written by some British Catholic Writer; however, it is summertime beach-reading and acceptable for that purpose.
That said, it brings up my main beef with these writers and their editors. The writing is lazy and slipshod. Take this minor example:
from The Book of the Dead
Douglas Preston and Lincoln ChildDr. Nora Kelly stood in her laboratory gazing at a large specimen table covered with fragments of ancient Anasazi pottery. The potsherds were of an unusual type that glowed almost golden in the bright lights, a sheen caused by countless mica particles in the original clay. She had collected the sherds during a summertime expedition to the Four Corners area of the Southwest, and now she had arranged them on a huge contour map of the Four Corners, each sherd in the precise geographical location where it had been found.
As exposition, there are so many things wrong with this, it's hard to start to identify the flaws. For example, Nora Kelly is, in fact, looking not at the table, but at the potsherds on the table. Another point--if the potsherds are Anasazi that cannot be anything other than ancient--there are no modern Anasazi to make potsherds. Finally, no matter how large the map, the sherds are going to be too big to mark a precise location by themselves. Moreover, even if you had a map at a 1:10 ungainly scale, you're hardly using the tools as you ought if you're placing priceless fragment on the paper itself to mark the locations--better to use the catalogue numbers and write them on the map with precise lines to indicate position found.
The book abounds in such sloppiness, most of it one grits ones teeth and passes over in interest of the story being served--a fascinating confection of betrayal, secrets, and revenge in multiple layers.
Diogenes and Aloysius Pendergast are brothers. Over the last two books Diogenes has been promising to commit the perfect crime to ultimately defeat his brother. Think Sherlock Holmes and his brother Mycroft with Mycroft morphed into Moriarty. (In fact, the denouement is quite reminiscent of the scene at Reichenbach falls--only translate the falls to another location and the contestants to. . . oh well, that would be telling wouldn't it.
So Diogenes arranges for the curse on an Egyptian tomb opening in a New York museum to come to life.
Preston and Child are all about entertainment. There's absolutely nothing to be gained from reading these books in the way of knowledge, information, or insight into the human spirit. But they are full of eccentric characters, chase scenes, jailbreaks, madness, mayhem, revenge, and the most bizarre and eccentric devices you can begin to imagine. I tolerate the prose for the sheer romp that is the story. And I have no qualms in recommending this for all who love fiction and need a brain break from the serious prose one usually peruses. But you may want to read Cabinet of Curiousities, Brimstone, and Dance of Death to give you a little background before you launch in. You needn't, of course, but it helps to flesh out what is happening in this book.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 6:43 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Two Amusing Moments
from Isn't it Romantic
Ron HansenSighing, Madame agreed, in the grudging way of one who thought some people would garden in basements if you let them. . . .
She shook her head and said she would like to tour America on an overland route from the East Coast to the West.Madame Dubray held her face carefully fixed as she asked, "How?"
Natalie felt unfairly tested. "Railway?"
Madame smirked, "Railway," she said, "In America."
"Or perhaps I could rent an automobile."
Madame scoffed, "Aren't you the audacious one? Motoring through all forty states."
"There are fifty."
"Well, not worth seeing," said Madame.
Mr. Hansen has taken the somewhat pretentious track of Graham Greene before him deliberately labeling this confection An Entertainment, as though one would be incapable of figuring it out for oneself. Moreover, what is he trying to protect, this author of Hitler's Niece (atrocious in almost every way) and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford entertaining but idiosyncratic in its "nouning the verb." (He socked his feet. . ."
Just right, we can figure out on our own what we would like to take seriously and what we would not care to. I've never understood the autoclassification of works into those of major and minor importance. It didn't work with Greene, who is arguably a better writer, and it doesn't work here. But the book looks to be entertaining.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:21 AM | Comments (8) | TrackBack
Trois Coleurs: Blanc
I found this segment of the trilogy interesting, engaging, but a bit more problematic than Bleu. Blanc (White) is the second of the three and stands for the second in the Enlightenment French trinity--&eaucte;galité. The thematic color is white, from the statue the hero steels to the snow-dusted polish fields, to the (literal) climax of the film--white predominates until at the end, it becomes mixed with red portending the next and last of the three, Rouge.
Karol is a Pole living in Paris. His wife decides to divorce him for a number of reasons, among them the lack of consummation of the marriage. But Karol believes that Dominique still loves him.
He meets a fellow Pole in the train station and schemes to go back to Poland. He packs himself in a trunk and goes as part of his new friend's luggage. Upon arrival the bag is stolen and when the thieves open it and find only poor Karol they thrash him.
Karol was a successful hairdresser in Warsaw and all the ladies are glad he is back. But he is not content and starts to make a new life for himself.
Okay, enough of the plot because once again this is an intimate film turning on very small moments and to say too much would be to ruin the surprise of the film. But to the problems of the film. It is an interesting paradox, the film is big-hearted and small minded or small-hearted and big-minded. Or perhaps it is Karol who is big-hearted and terribly confused. Whatever it is, the &eaucte;galité when it domes is &eaucte;galité in smallness, in pettiness and in revenge that ends oddly and interestingly.
I don't quite know what to make of the film except that I really enjoyed every moment. Not so simple and clear as Bleu., Blanc will reward multiple viewings with, I think, both depth of meaning and depth of feeling.
Highly recommended to all ADULTS. A rewarding, interesting, fascinating film with enough substance to be appreciated time and again--and enough to think about to keep you thinking for days to come. Excellent.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:28 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Where Is Truth to be Found? II
In the interest of fairness and to reinforce the point from yesterday this news report:
Hezbollah Uses Christian Villages as Shields (From The Inn at the End of the World.)
Posted by Steven Riddle at 3:02 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack