Monday, March 24, 2008
References
Last week I was reading an article in Salon with the phrase, “even with an income and a room of her own....”
I thought, wow, they just made a reference to Virginia Woolf.
My little thrill as a reader came from Salon’s editors trusting I knew the reference. Side note: the article was in the Broadsheet section, and apologize for not having re-found the article. I read them all, so I don’t remember which one.
This morning I just about died laughing at a political article that included this: “Sixteen years ago, the last time the Democrats won back the White House, fewer than half the delegates had been selected by the end of March, with big-state primaries in New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio and California still on the docket. This campaign year the Democrats are already down to seeds and stems with 82 percent of the delegates having been chosen by March 11.”
Did you notice what just happened there? OMG did you just totally see it?! Seeds and stems. They’re talking about weed, dude.
There’s knowing your audience, and knowing that if they know what you’re talking about, they won’t be writing angry letters. They’ll just keep reading, with a chuckle, solid with the information that all the real stuff is gone, and this is what’s left. Yeah… what that says about the readers (me), about Salon, the Democratic Partaay… is um, not lost on me. I defend myself thusly. (damn skippy, thusly!). A writer has a duty to not be naive.
I practically think in allusions. They’re a pretty shorthand, like a gesture waving at something larger, telling you to take in all [that] while applying it to what we’re saying about [this]. It’s a picture with a thousand words, done in a few words.
Course, just dropping a reference that doesn’t create that picture is a quick way to annoy a reader. I could write, “we’re down to seeds and stems” and even if you have no idea what I’m talking about, you can infer something like, “yeah, there’s no fruit in there… or something, so that’s not so good, should we be planting?”
The trick is, I can only put an image in your head with my own words, but if I reference something out in the world, I’m actually pinging your brain to see if you have that picture already in there. If you do, we get a nice little moment, you and me. If you don’t, I have to work harder to help you see what I see.
Writing on your own web site is different. Any time I make a reference, I can find a link to help us out. The problem though, is if you have to follow a link, it distracts you. It takes you out of the flow. But if you get it and want to cozy up on that other web page for a second, it’s still nice between us, since I sent you there. Formal, article-type sites don’t send you off in this way, because they don’t want you to leave. A less business, more editorial reason is that an editor would probably not let a reference that did all the heavy lifting stay in an article.
That heavy lifting is why Dennis Miller annoys people. I can’t just say that the 6 train pulling out sounds like the opening bars of the old HBO theme song, and expect you to hear and feel what I’m talking about. It’s a lot more work to begin to describe the poignant sound and the curious tilt of the train as it pulls itself screeching through the tight curve of the station. How the train seems sad and repressed, the jarring volume of the tones contrasting with the memory the chords evoke, of being small, expectant. I’m not even doing a good job. It’s hard, this using of words to get to a place deeper than language. Bah.
I have a nagging problem. As we lose culture, and replace culture (included in that is religion), what sorts of references will be lost, and what will we have to work with? Why is it alright to use the word “upgrade” everywhere all the time now, and how much longer before historical and mythological allusions fall on deaf ears (or ping empty minds)? What’s it say when they change? How cool would it be if we could map this change?
Now if only I could find a better way to describe my ex-stepmom than referencing her cheeky doppelganger Ursa in Superman II, I’d earn my freaking MFA.
Kneel before Zod!
Friday, March 21, 2008
Net Work
I’m still reading Moby Dick. It’s not about a whale, but it does actually contain a lot of lines like “Oh ye be, be ye?!” So that’s fun, even if the reading is one that requires almost constant vernacular translation. It gets really meta when Ishmael talks about how the people of Nantucket sound strange to him, with their “thous” and “thees.”
My most delicious moment was coming across an instance of the word(s) “network” — hyphenated as “net-work." Used to describe wrinkles around the eyes, the distinct meanings and originations (and seafaring and net-weaving!) were all just right there, and it felt like looking at the evolution of man.
Is it just me?
I was ignorant of the depth of friendship between Nathaniel Hawthorne and Herman Melville, but it makes me feel warm and fuzzy, a small kinship in relation to my writer friends. It’s not a tradition so much as a necessary phenomenon. It’s funny, we think of Legend and Greatness, meanwhile, Nate and Hermy were writers trying to find the best way to tell the stories they had.
If you want to read some Moby Dick yourself, you can do it a page a day (believe me that’s about how slow i’m going, which is not remotely normal) with DailyLit. There are a lot of good and/or classic books available for free, and tons of trashy brain-candy books for a low price. You sign up for what you want, and every day (you pick what days, and you can even pick the time the email hits your inbox, which is genius) they email you one “page”. Because the books are sent in this way, you know how many days it’ll take you to read.
You can also pretend to be working while you’re reading totally normal looking “email” at work. Score.
Maybe you always wanted to read War and Peace. (and who hasn’t?! hah totally!) Instead of spending twenty years saying that, you can have it read in 675 days.
Moby Dick on Daily Lit is free, and sent in 252 parts. This book in front of me has 594 pages, badly printed and poorly formatted (never has a shallow page gutter so frustrated me). Oof. I shoulda signed up about 250 days ago. ‘Specially since I’ll be damned if I don’t make time to work a little paper craft, star wars style, or maybe I’ll use these instructions as inspiration for bunnies and Ts.
p.s. Yesterday I made a little book for Susan, who is moving away to Philly with Josh. The wee book was trying to be brave, and requested “no photographs” with a quivering lip and downcast eyes. For additional courage, we all got tipsy. I’ll keep teaching her about the internet, and she’ll teach me to use a phone. Philly’s closer than Queens anyway. I just hope she doesn’t start twittering while the color wars are going on. She’d be so confused.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Once Upon a School
I’ve been reading Moby Dick over spring break for school. There now seems to be a prevalence of seafaring/pirate themes everywhere I turn, including the unintentional, and un-ironic, two-day wearing of my Johnny Depp “Pirates of the Caribbean” t-shirt.
Just when I’m trying to hole up and ignore the internet, Pheezy posted this link via twitter, via designverb, to Dave Egger’s speech at TED. This quote taken from the tail end:
“...they need your physical personhood, and your open minds and open ears and boundless compassion, sitting next to them, listening and nodding and asking questions for hours at a time. Some of these kids just plain don’t know how good they are, how smart and how much they have to say… you can shine that light on them one human interaction at a time.” - Dave Eggars
While I throw the pirate stuff in just for a cheap segue, I don’t mean to deprecate the amazing awesomeness which is Dave Eggars, or what he’s done with the tutoring workshops with 826 Valencia and sister locations. Watching this lengthy (but worth it) presentation, I was genuinely excited to see the pirate supply store. The video is well worth watching through to the Brooklyn version: a superhero shop, and for some time travel nuts I know: L.A.’s Time Travel Mart.
I wept a bit watching this talk, until I felt that my overly sentimental teary eyes were useless and silly. Totally not as helpful as checking out 826NYC aka the Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co., and thinking about if and when I could help them out.
Man, I love living here.
That’s not to say I didn’t love D.C.. I have a great memory of Maria telling me about Eggars’ reading in this Episcopal church, in Dupont near our old apartments. We Irish Catholic girls laughed at their padded pews and puny doses of suffering. Maria swooned for Dave. Dave (can I call you Dave?) was excellent, and (sorta) signed and stamped our copies of AHWOSG. Behold, further awesomeness. Now With Bunnies!
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Found Art Meets Creating Fictions
Now that that silly SXSW post is done, I can point you to a book I think is super cool, and mumble-type something about how I had an idea like this years ago. A la Cart: The Secret Lives of Grocery Shoppers
This is a really good example of creating a fiction based on a snippet of information taken from a limited context. God help me if anyone ever found my to-do lists, but that’s a book I’ve always wanted to make. Find other people’s to-do lists, then explode them exuberantly and outlandishly.
I think this sort of work appeals so much to me because it’s a non-evil way to play with truth and reality. It is almost pure fabrication (in the best of creative ways), but makes no false claims, and involves no hurt feelings, no creepy stalker vibes. There’s no hyperbole of reality, but rather, speculative musings and entertaining fantasy. The reader can play jump-rope with the stories, easily hopping over the changing line that holds the place between fiction and non-fiction.
Obligatory Follow-up
It’s Spring Break 2008 for me, dear bunnies, and it’s nice to have some time off to recalibrate the tools.
SXSW was good, but from what the more experienced people were saying it seems to be too packed and crowded to be as good as in years past — like Hawaii. I enjoyed the speakers and the general geek-playground atmosphere. The main bummer was the phenomenon of subject-matter overlap in panels being held at the same time, followed or preceded by hours of panels I wasn’t interested in. Lucky for me I was not there On Business and had only myself to please. The truly best part was seeing friends there, and getting closer to new ones. They were all so great, it made me feel like we could have been dropped into an empty airplane hangar and still have had all kinds of Awesome rigged up in no time.
I had a wonderful, lovely, fun birthday. And I got a new bunny.
Didn’t I leave tired and inspired? Yeah. Now I’m even more interested in the differences between a person and their persona, the private and public, the online and offline expression of sentiment… fiction, non-fiction and the fictions made by individuals to create personal relationship or convergence. These ideas need to be teased out with a Sharpie® and butcher paper. The general notion is similar to the fun I had making books about my friends, using googlisms. The ooh-weird! fun part was the inclusion of random statements that were true, or resembled them in real life. The humor and surprise were in the wild, far-out statements.
To make a long story short (i need to learn that trick), I came back from an interactive conference with a burning desire to physically make more books. Oops. The whole time I felt like I was about to be photographed and stuck into a LOLmaker (SXSW - yer doin it wrong!). Oh well, I did it my way.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Happy Birthday at SXSW
Today is my birthday and the first day of SXSW Interactive. All around w00ts and happy fun times.
The only raindrops are that I forgot my adorable business cards from Moo, and my camera. I did pack one pair of jeans, six pairs of shoes, and the reading for my “unnamable” literature class with Shelley Jackson, Dictee, by the “versatile and important artist” Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, who I am loving because she proves that my own ideas are possible.
Yesterday as we were getting off the plane I noticed that the two guys in front of us were putting on blue latex gloves. I have no idea why. Since they seemed friendly and had blessed Mike when he sneezed, I looked from one guy’s gloved hand and back to his face saying, “Two by two, hands of blue.” They both laughed and said, “This might be the only plane where everyone on it gets that reference." What can I say? Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy and Firefly, is the master.
Also on our plane were Dan Rather and Jason Santa-Maria. In a sweet, totally not salacious way, Dan Rather winked at me on my way out of the airplane lavatory.
In a couple hours Mike is gonna throw down in Battledecks II and I do not envy him. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably panic into doing something ridonkulous, like dancing out SXSW in YMCA fashion. But of course, maybe that’s the stuff of internet legend.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Syncope, the In-Between
I’m sitting here trying to pronounce the word hh, a time dipthong, the death rattle. I’ve had this cold or flu bug for five days now and since it’s at the weird voice/annoying cough phase, my death rattle is coming out just dandy. Waking up mornings in a loopy Nyquil daze makes browsing the Interstitial Library an infinitely more tangible experience.
Adding to the confluence, or convergence, of all things, the Interstitial Library is comprised of books that have been disappeared, or have undergone deaccession. I think this library includes books repurposed as air-conditioner supports and redistributed on book swapping sites.
Recently someone installing more bookshelves for me suggested that I consider getting rid of a few books. Hah! I’ve told you how I feel about that. Books disintegrate. I own some so old they’re dissolving on the shelf. I just try not to trouble them, to move them too much. I can tell by their bloated bottom halves and peeling spines when they’ve been dropped in the tub, or left in the sun. Someone smart told me, “screw the wheel, in a book you know the world, the thoughts, can have a conversation with someone a thousand years ago. That’s an invention.” It’s true, read from The Pillow Book, and tell me that this lady’s writing, her observations and lists of things hateful, things charming, don’t hold up. How wonderful, really.
I’m coming to realize I fetishize not just my beautiful special books, but the messy ones with too many tears and dirty glue from mark-down stickers, fragile books whose covers hold on with barely more than static electricity. I like their smells and jaundice, and just knowing that the books would taste sour if you held them in your mouth. New books taste more like communion wafers.
One day I’ll decide which book I can’t part with, and have it made, all shallow empty “you’re job is to look pretty and say nothing”, into a handbag. I met Cailtin at an Etsy party, and love her “rebound” purses. To do this, I will have to buy a new book, or request one of her. It would never be possible for me to do this to a book I own, and therefore have a relationship with. That’s how it is for me.
For my treasured darlings, I have dreams for a magical day when I can have (that sounds like “i can has” but i only mean i will need to “have” it built because I suck at that stuff) magical fabulous bookshelves built into my stairs (in my fantasty brownstone, because we’re dreaming now).
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Japanamerica
Over winter break I got a delicious chance to read Japanamerica by Roland Kelts. This was shortly after New York magazine’s look book featured a high school girl who said, “A lot of it is influenced by Japanese street fashion.” Suddenly it was confluence, confluence everywhere. It’s stomping around in Cloverfield. It’s sitting under your desk all cute and cryptic.
Check out my review of Japanamerica: How Japanese Pop Culture Has Invaded the U.S. in The Brooklyn Rail’s Prose Roundup. Pick up a paper, or read it online.
Order your own copy
