Methought - July/2024
Monthy wrap-up: rereading Dubliners, starting the Iliad, T.S. Eliot's best work, pre-code films, Donna Tartt on A.I., Jeff Buckley's early career, The Dare, complex army men, and fairy-tale operas.
scroll down to read the English version
Caros leitores,
Julho foi um mês socialmente agitado e não consegui ler tanto quanto gostaria. Porém, iniciei duas grandes leituras: A Ilíada e Infinite Jest; e terminei duas grandes leituras também: Dubliners e Four Quartets. Em Agosto terei vários encontros de clubes do livro e estou animada, é o estímulo que eu precisava.
Resolvi que a partir de agora começarei todas as edições mensais com um poema do mês, e para Julho o escolhido foi “A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky” de Lewis Carroll:
A boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July —
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear —
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream —
Lingering in the golden gleam —
Life, what is it but a dream?
LIVROS &TC.
Uma Mulher - Annie Ernaux (1987)
Esse mês entrei no meu 4º clube do livro (uhu) mas dessa vez presencialmente com alguns amigos queridos. O primeiro escolhido do clube foi Uma Mulher de Annie Ernaux, meu primeiro contato com a autora francesa e no geral achei uma leitura morna e mediana. Esse livro narra a vida da mãe da autora logo após seu falecimento, e vejo como uma espécie de terapia literária para que Ernaux consiga processar essa morte. Achei que a escrita dela era minimalista em excesso, mas ainda assim tenho vontade de ler mais livros da autora.
Dubliners - James Joyce (1914)
Uma releitura maravilhosa que fiz em conjunto com outro clube do livro, e minha admiração por James Joyce só aumenta. Essa coleção de contos é de uma genialidade absurda: mesmo que ele não tenha concebido a coletânea “Dubliners” desde o começo, os contos são muito bem amarrados, quase que simbioticamente, e temas como “paralysis” e críticas as três maiores instituições (Igreja, Família e Estado) são identificáveis durante todo o livro. Uma das coisas que mais me impressiona em Joyce é como ele usa a gramática — nas mãos dele a língua inglesa é de fato um instrumento, como na frase de abertura de Eveline (meu conto favorito) que usa a voz passiva (depois de dois contos na primeira pessoa) para indicar a passividade da própria personagem; ou em A Painful Case, cujo personagem principal (um homem de meia idade, saturnino e metido a intelectual) critica os “phrasemongers” do mundo literário equanto ele mesmo salpica sua narração interior com aforismos tais como “We cannot give ourselves: we are our own” e “every bond is a bond to sorrow”.
É fácil passar meses dissecando Dubliners, e eu não vejo a hora de ler A Portrait of the Artist e Ulysses.
Four Quartets - T.S. Eliot (1943)
É raro encontrar livros como esse no mundo, faz anos que eu não me apaixonava assim por uma obra literária. Four Quartets é, facilmente, uma das coisas mais bonitas e complexas que já li, e a forte reação emocional que eu tive (chorei muito depois de ler Burnt Norton, não sei exatamente porque, acho que apenas pela beleza) só é comparável ao que senti quando li Eugene Onegin ou Hamlet. Já o considero como um dos meus livros favoritos, e que surpresa poder dizer isso — não pensei que fosse gostar tanto da poesia de Eliot já que geralmente prefiro os poetas românticos. Se você for ler qualquer coisa dessa lista, leia Four Quartets.
A Ilíada - Homero (livros I-VIII)
É a primeira vez que estou lendo A Ilíada (na tradução recente de Emily Wilson), e estou adorando! O poema é tão simples e complexo, a mente grega tão alien e tão moderna… estou fazendo uma leitura “em câmera lenta” da mesma forma que fiz com Paraíso Perdido, e estou postando diários de leitura semanais no bookgram para quem quiser acompanhar ;)
ARTIGOS & ENSAIOS
Philosophy was once alive - Pranay Sanklecha para Aeon Magazine (2024)
Seria a Filosofia o caminho ideal para viver melhor? Mas e quando a Filosofia parece não tratar mais das coisas que importam, quando parece ter movido completamente para o reino da abstração? Sanklecha conta sua jornada estudando filosofia analítica, tentando descobrir “a maneira certa” de viver, e seu eventual abandono da Academia depois de algumas frustrações. As críticas que ela faz ao estudo da Filosofia atualmente, bem como à Academia em si, são muito relevantes e são coisas que me incomodam também. Vale a leitura.
Empire of Fantasy: The rise and fall of the Oxford School of fantasy literature - Maria Sachiko Cecire (2020)
Muita gente sabe que Tolkien e Lewis eram, além de grandes escritores de fantasia, grandes amigos. O que eu não sabia era que eles também foram responsáveis por elaborar o currículo da Oxford English School, em vigor de 1931 até 1970. Neste artigo, Cecire explica como este currículo (majoritariamente medieval) foi responsável por influenciar uma geração de alunos de Oxford que viriam a se tornar escritore de fantasia, como Phillip Pullman:
Tolkien and Lewis’s fiction regularly alludes to works in the syllabus that they created, and their Oxford-educated successors likewise draw upon these medieval sources when they set out to write their own children’s fantasy in later decades. In this way, Tolkien and Lewis were able to make a two-pronged attack, both within and outside the academy, on the disenchantment, relativism, ambiguity and progressivism that they saw and detested in 20th-century modernity.
Ocorre que esta abordagem idealiza o passado cultural da Inglaterra (a síndrome da Merry-Old-England) e desconsidera o legado de crueldade do império, além de ignorar certos aspectos de supremacia branca presentes nas fantasias clássicas. Eu sou uma grandessíssima fã de Tolkien, mas reconheço que as críticas feitas nesse artigo quanto a certas atitudes demasiado reacionárias são muito pertinentes.
The God of Logic - Benjamin Labatut for Harper’s Magazine (2024)
The artificial-intelligence apocalypse is a new fear that keeps many up at night, a terror born of great advances that seem to suggest that, if we are not very careful, we may—with our own hands—bring forth a future where humanity has no place. This strange nightmare is a credible danger only because so many of our dreams are threatening to come true.
Benjamin Labatut (When We Cease to Understand the World; The MANIAC) aborda nesse ensaio a raiz tecnológica da Inteligência Artificial, seu estado atual e possível futuro. Ele traça paralelos entre a nossa realidade e o mundo de Duna, comparando o apocalipse da ficção científica com um possível destino para nós. Devo dizer que as semelhanças são alarmantes, e o livro Herbert parece menos fantasioso agora. Não é um texto apocaliptico, mas confirma ansiedades que eu já tinha sobre a Inteligência Artifical e sua glorificação feita pelos ignorantes e preguiçosos.
Art and Artifice - Donna Tartt for Harper’s Magazine (2024)
We don’t know why humans make art, and yet starting with the earliest examples, it’s possible to make a strong case that art is an inborn human capacity, preceding culture and society, and that to lose our connection with art is to lose our connection with what is best and most mysterious about us as a species.
[…]
Whenever we make, or experience, art, we escape the chronic fatigue of screens. And in restoring us to unknowing and to radical mystery, even the most ancient artworks can give us some immunity and protection from the forces scraping away at our humanity, and help us in dreaming our way to the Real.
Que saudade que eu estava de ler algo escrito pela Donna Tartt, bom saber que ela está viva e bem. Nesse ensaio (que é uma review/introdução do livro Reclaiming Art in the Age of Artifice de J. F. Martel — um livro que eu já tinha visto ela recomendar antes) ela retoma alguns tópicos presentes em O Pintassilgo, como o valor da arte em si, principalmente das obras que “resistiram ao teste do tempo”. No final ela usa Shakespeare para retratar como a arte pode fornecer mais respostas, e em qualquer época, do que quaquer tecnologia factual. Brilhante, como sempre.
T. S. Eliot, The Art of Poetry No. 1 - Paris Review (1959)
Talvez vocês tenham notado minha nova paixão por T.S. Eliot. Portanto, nada mais natural que procurar entrevistas, artigos, e palestras sobre ele. Nesta longa entrevista feita pela Paris Review em 1959, Eliot conta anedotas do início de sua carreira (como a influência dos simbolistas franceses) e “esclarece” certas questões sobre a composição de seus poemas mais famosos.
FILMES & SÉRIES
First Reformed - Paul Schrader (2017)
despair is a development of pride so great that it chooses one’s certitude rather than admit God is more creative than we are
Todo tipo de arte que trata de teodicéia me atrai. É comum que na mídia o Catolicismo seja a religião dramática e tragicamente glamurosa e o Protestantismo seja áustero e até estéril. Schrader resolve inverter esses papéis e dar ao Pastor Toller (Ethan Hawke) uma trajetória de mártir, a partir de um encontro com um jovem militante climático e suicida que o coloca numa espiral de autodestruição. Toller — alcóolotra, doente e solitário — falha em guiar e confortar esse jovem, e com isso ele mesmo passa a questionar a própria vida de forma mais intensa. First Reformed tem notas de Taxi Driver ao retratar a alienação masculina e a desilusão diante das injustiças do mundo, mas sem nenhum elemento descolado (ou redpill) característico do filme de Scorsese.
Festim Diabólico - Alfred Hitchcock (1948)
Um dos meus filmes favoritos que eu não assistia há anos. Tinha esquecido de como é genial — Festim Diabólico é como assistir a primeira impressão de um jovem depois de ler Crime e Castigo. Teorias radicalmente práticas (tão práticas e simples que formam as mais belas ideias) nunca funcionam na vida real. Aqui, dois estudantes de Harvard (elegantes, educados, e afetados à la Lestat) resolvem matar um colega que consideram “inferior” para provar que conseguem cometer o crime perfeito. Eles dão uma festa no dia do crime e convidam o antigo mentor do Colégio, Rupert cadell (James Stewart) nutrindo, no fundo, a esperança de impressionar este ídolo intelectual que lhes deu a ideia do assassinato “justificado”. Eu não lembrava do final e foi maravilhoso poder me chocar novamente. Fico pensando em como Hitchcock teria feito esse filme sem o Hays Code, mas talvez a presença paradoxal de um subtexto gritante seja um dos motivos de Festim Diabólico funcionar tão bem.
Design for Living - Ernst Lubitsch (1933)
A melhor comédia romântica que vi esse ano (até então), e agora estou obcecada por Gary Cooper (meu lindo) e filmes pre-code (adicionei vários na watchlist do letterboxd). Design for Living é como uma versão mais light de Challengers, e ao invés de tenistas os rapazes são artistas disputando uma “musa” (Miriam Hopkins) que não consegue se decidir entre esses grandes amigos. As cenas de triângulo amoroso, bem como as discussões abertas sobre sexo, parecem impensáveis em 1933. Genuinamente ri muito!
Espoir: Sierra del Teruel - André Malraux (1939)
Nunca esqueci que em O Talentoso Ripley, Tom Ripley fica obcecado pelo livro As Vozes do Silêncio de Malraux, e desde então esse livro esteve na minha lista. Malraux é uma figura muito interessante, e fiquei animada quando descobri que esse filme estava no programa da eletiva que estou pagando agora (Literatura e outras Artes). Porém, achei o filme meio sem graça. A cena que mais gostei foi uma sequência de um bombardeio aéreo, no qual as aves migrando e os aviões se misturavam na mesma posição no céu.
Beau Travail - Claire Denis (1999)
Percebi depois de assistir esse filme que eu amo filmes de exército, não os de ação que glorificam a violência que nem Rambo, mas os que exploram a futilidade da guerra e o ego masculino (e sua fragilidade) através da instituição mais “máscula” da sociedae, desde A Ilíada até hoje. Durante todo o filme eu tive a sensação de que algo muito estranho e muito gay estava acontecendo, mas eu não sabia (e ainda não sei) exatamente o que; é tudo tão sutil e quieto que é preciso prestar muita atenção para capturar a tensão que se forma lentamente — tão lento que quando chega o final e pensa-se que nada aconteceu, na verdade tudo estava acontecendo o tempo todo. Beau Travail é a história de soldados da legião francesa acampados no Djibouti, e a rotina obsessiva do comandante Galoup passa a mudar com a chegada do soldado Sentain.
Quando fui pesquisar a trilha sonora (uma espécie de ópera igualmente sinistra e encantadora) descobri que o filme é baseado na novela Billy Budd de Herman Melville (na minha lista há anos) e a música usada é justamente uma ópera de Benjamin Britten que adapta a novela. Achei a presença de uma “legião” e de um deserto de sal, que cristaliza tudo que surge por lá, muito bíblico, e agora sabendo da ligação com Melville talvez seja mesmo.
MÚSICA & PODCASTS
Sixpence and None the Richer (álbum) - 1997
Impossível continuar triste ouvindo Sixpence and None the Richer, e esse álbum — que escutei sem parar em Julho — é infálivel em sua capacidade de me alegrar e me fazer sentir dentro de uma comédia romântica dos anos 90 (o cenário ideal em qualquer momento). Para os latinos, me lembra Floribella em alguns aspectos… Muitas músicas boas além de Kiss Me, eu prometo.
Girls - The Dare
Obrigada Barack Obama por colocar essa música na sua playlist anual e fazer com que ela chegasse até mim, através do TikTok. Essa música é tão boa que ela é boa demais para as festas que estão ao meu alcance — tanto que ouvir The Dare me faz querer vender todos os meus pertences e abandonar tudo para ser clubber NY. O desejo passa assim que a música acaba, não se preocupem.
How the Plantagenets forged the English state - History Extra Podcast
A dinastia Plantageneta é uma das minhas grande obsessões históricas, principalmente por causa das English History plays de Shakespeare. Esse episódio do History Extra oferece um panorama do tipo de reinado exercido pelos Plantagenetas (e como era diferente do passado até então) com relação as conquistas militares, políticas internas, as legislações criadas, conflitos familiares etc., desde o início com Henry II até Edward III. Se você não conhece muito sobre essa parte da história, esse é um bom lugar para começar a compartilhar da minha obsessão.
Jeff Buckley - You and I Documentary
Jeff Buckley é muito especial para mim, não só pela música em si mas pelo tipo de artista que ele era. Eu quase morri de tanta inveja assistindo esse documentário pois ele revela como foi o início da carreira de Jeff, e a história parece coisa de filme: no começo da década de 90, no icônico Sin-é café no East Village/NY, Jeff toda segunda feira tocava num ambiente minúsculo, pausando só para sentar e beber com amigos ou lavar pratos na cozinha. Segundo os testemunhos e vídeos dos shows, era algo mágico e intimista e impensável hoje em dia. Quando ouço essas histórias (ou até quando vejo as cenas de Friends no Central Perk) eu fico muito triste sentindo falta de uma cultura urbana que nunca vivenciei — ter um espaço seu na cidade, no qual é possível se conectar com o ambiente e com o espaço, e no caso de Jeff, ainda poder testemunhar o nascimento de um dos maiores artistas do século passado.
Esse mês escutei muito o álbum que tem as gravações feitas em Sin-é (34 músicas incluindo covers e “rascunhos” de outras músicas), e depois de ver o documentário fiquei emocionada ao escutar, imaginando ele improvisando ao vivo…
Béla Bartók: Duke Blubeard's Castle - London Symphony Orchestra (1988)
Essa versão da ópera de Bartók feita pela Orquestra Sinfônica de Londres é absolutamene incrível, gravada como se fosse um filme mesmo ao invés de um teatro filmado. Baseada no conto de fadas do barba azul — um homem nobre que leva sua nova esposa para seu castelo misterioso, e ela muito curiosa não consegue se conter e descobre o destino terrível das antigas esposas — a ópera de Bartók consegue ser ainda mais sinistra e até surrealista.
Dear readers,
July was a busy month socially and I didn't manage to read as much as I would have liked. However, I did start two great reads: The Iliad and Infinite Jest; and I finished two great reads too: Dubliners and Four Quartets. In August I'll have several book club meetings and I'm excited, it's the motivation I needed.
I've decided that from now on I'm going to start every monthly edition with a poem of the month, and for July I've chosen “A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky” by Lewis Carroll:
A boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July —
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear —
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream —
Lingering in the golden gleam —
Life, what is it but a dream?
BOOKS &TC.
A Woman’s Story - Annie Ernaux (1987)
This month I joined my 4th book club (uhu) but this time in person with some dear friends. The first book chosen for the club was A Woman’s Story by Annie Ernaux, my first contact with the French author, and overall I thought it was a lukewarm and average read. This book chronicles the life of the author's mother shortly after her death, and I see it as a kind of literary therapy for Ernaux to process this death. I thought her writing was too minimalist, but I still want to try more of her books.
Dubliners - James Joyce (1914)
A wonderful re-read that I did together with another book club, and my admiration for James Joyce only increases. This collection of short stories is absurdly ingenious: even if he didn't conceive the “Dubliners” collection from the start, the stories are tightly woven together, almost symbiotically, and themes such as “paralysis” and criticism of the three major institutions (Church, Family and State) are identifiable throughout the book. One of the things that impressed me most about Joyce is how he uses grammar — in his hands, the English language is truly an instrument, as in the opening sentence of Eveline (my favorite story), which uses the passive voice (after two stories in the first person) to indicate the passivity of the character herself; or in A Painful Case, whose main character (a middle-aged, saturnine, intellectual man) criticizes the “phrasemongers” of the literary world while he himself sprinkles his inner narration with aphorisms such as “We cannot give ourselves: we are our own” and “every bond is a bond to sorrow”.
Spending months dissecting Dubliners is easy, and I can't wait to read A Portrait of the Artist and Ulysses.
Four Quartets - T.S. Eliot (1943)
It's rare to find books like this in the world, it's been years since I fell in love with a literary work like this. Four Quartets is easily one of the most beautiful and complex things I've ever read, and the strong emotional reaction I had (I cried a lot after reading Burnt Norton, I don't know exactly why, I think just because of the beauty) is only comparable to what I felt when I read Eugene Onegin or Hamlet. I already consider it one of my favorite books, and what a surprise to be able to say that - I didn't think I'd like Eliot's poetry so much since I usually prefer the Romantic poets. If you're going to read anything on this list, read Four Quartets.
The Iliad - Homer (livros I-VIII)
This is the first time I'm reading The Iliad (in Emily Wilson's new translation), and I'm thoroughly enjoying it! The poem is so simple and complex, and the Greek mind is so alien and so modern… I'm reading it “in slow motion” in the same way I did Paradise Lost, and I'm posting weekly reading diaries on my bookgram for anyone who wants to follow along ;)
ARTICLES & ESSAYS
Philosophy was once alive - Pranay Sanklecha for Aeon Magazine (2024)
Is philosophy the ideal route to a better life? But what about when philosophy no longer seems to deal with the things that matter, when it seems to have moved completely into the realm of abstraction? Sanklecha recounts her journey studying analytical philosophy, trying to discover "the right way" to live, and her eventual abandonment of the Academy after some frustrations. The criticisms she makes of the study of philosophy today, as well as of the Academy itself, are very relevant and are things that bother me too. It's well worth a read.
Empire of Fantasy: The rise and fall of the Oxford School of fantasy literature - Maria Sachiko Cecire (2020)
Many people know that Tolkien and Lewis were not only great fantasy writers, but also great friends. What I didn't know was that they were also responsible for designing the Oxford English School curriculum, which ran from 1931 until 1970. In this article, Cecire explains how this (mostly medieval) curriculum was responsible for influencing a generation of Oxford students who would go on to become fantasy writers, such as Phillip Pullman:
Tolkien and Lewis’s fiction regularly alludes to works in the syllabus that they created, and their Oxford-educated successors likewise draw upon these medieval sources when they set out to write their own children’s fantasy in later decades. In this way, Tolkien and Lewis were able to make a two-pronged attack, both within and outside the academy, on the disenchantment, relativism, ambiguity and progressivism that they saw and detested in 20th-century modernity.
However, this approach idealizes England's cultural past (the Merry-Old-England syndrome) and disregards the empire's legacy of cruelty, as well as ignoring certain aspects of white supremacy present in classic fantasies. I'm a huge Tolkien fan, but I recognize that the criticisms made in this article about certain overly reactionary attitudes are very pertinent.
The God of Logic - Benjamin Labatut for Harper’s Magazine (2024)
The artificial-intelligence apocalypse is a new fear that keeps many up at night, a terror born of great advances that seem to suggest that, if we are not very careful, we may—with our own hands—bring forth a future where humanity has no place. This strange nightmare is a credible danger only because so many of our dreams are threatening to come true.
In this essay, Benjamin Labatut (When We Cease to Understand the World; The MANIAC) discusses the technological roots of Artificial Intelligence, its current state and possible future. He draws parallels between our reality and the world of Dune, comparing the apocalypse of science fiction with a possible fate for us. I have to say that the similarities are alarming, and Herbert's book seems less fantastical now. It's not an apocalyptic piece, but it confirms anxieties I already had about Artificial Intelligence and its glorification by the ignorant and lazy.
Art and Artifice - Donna Tartt for Harper’s Magazine (2024)
We don’t know why humans make art, and yet starting with the earliest examples, it’s possible to make a strong case that art is an inborn human capacity, preceding culture and society, and that to lose our connection with art is to lose our connection with what is best and most mysterious about us as a species.
[…]
Whenever we make, or experience, art, we escape the chronic fatigue of screens. And in restoring us to unknowing and to radical mystery, even the most ancient artworks can give us some immunity and protection from the forces scraping away at our humanity, and help us in dreaming our way to the Real.
How I've missed reading something written by Donna Tartt, good to know she's alive and well. In this essay (which is a review/introduction of the book Reclaiming Art in the Age of Artifice by J. F. Martel - a book I've seen her recommend before) she revisits some topics featured in The Goldfinch, such as the value of art itself, especially works that have "stood the test of time". In the end, she uses Shakespeare to illustrate how art can provide more answers, in any era, than any factual technology. Brilliant, as always.
T. S. Eliot, The Art of Poetry No. 1 - Paris Review (1959)
You may have noticed my newfound passion for T.S. Eliot. So it was only natural to look for interviews, articles and lectures about him. In this long interview by the Paris Review in 1959, Eliot tells anecdotes from the beginning of his career (such as the influence of the French symbolists) and "clarifies" certain questions about the composition of his most famous poems.
FILMS & SERIES
First Reformed - Paul Schrader (2017)
despair is a development of pride so great that it chooses one’s certitude rather than admit God is more creative than we are
Any art that deals with theodicy appeals to me. It's common in the media for Catholicism to be the dramatic and tragically glamorous religion and Protestantism to be austere and even sterile. Schrader decides to reverse these roles and give Pastor Toller (Ethan Hawke) a martyr's journey, starting with an encounter with a young climate activist who becomes suicidal and sends him into a spiral of self-destruction. Toller — alcoholic, sick, and lonely — fails to guide and comfort the young man, and as a result, he begins to question his own life more intensely. First Reformed has notes of Taxi Driver in its portrayal of male alienation and disillusionment in the face of the world's injustices, but without any of the cooly detached (or redpill) elements characteristic of Scorsese's film.
Rope - Alfred Hitchcock (1948)
One of my favorite films that I haven't seen in years. I'd forgotten how brilliant it is — Rope is like watching a young person's first impression after reading Crime and Punishment. Radically practical theories (so practical and simple that they form the most beautiful ideas) never work in real life. Here, two Harvard students (elegant, polite, and affected à la Lestat) decide to kill a classmate they consider “inferior” to prove they can commit the perfect crime. They throw a party on the day of the murder and invite their old mentor from school, Rupert Cadell (James Stewart), ultimately hoping to impress this intellectual idol who gave them the idea of “justified” murder. I didn't remember the ending and it was wonderful to be shocked again. I wonder how Hitchcock would have made this movie without the Hays Code, but perhaps the paradoxical presence of a blatant subtext is one of the reasons why Rope works so well.
Design for Living - Ernst Lubitsch (1933)
The best romantic comedy I've seen this year (so far), and now I'm obsessed with Gary Cooper (my man) and pre-code movies (I've added several to my letterboxd watchlist). Design for Living is like a lighter version of Challengers, and instead of tennis players, the guys are artists competing for a “muse” (Miriam Hopkins) who can't decide between these two best friends. The love triangle scenes, as well as the open discussions about sex, seem unthinkable in 1933. I genuinely laughed a lot!
Espoir: Sierra del Teruel - André Malraux (1939)
I've never forgotten that in The Talented Mr Ripley, Tom Ripley becomes obsessed with Malraux's Voices of Silence, and that book has been on my list ever since. Malraux is a fascinating figure, and I was excited when I found out that this film was on the syllabus of the course I'm taking now (Literature and Other Arts). However, I found the movie a bit dull. The scene I liked the most was an aerial bombing sequence, in which the migrating birds and the planes blended into the same position in the sky.
Beau Travail - Claire Denis (1999)
I realized after watching this film that I love military films, not the action ones that glorify violence like Rambo, but the ones that explore the futility of war and the male ego (and its fragility) through the most “manly” institution in society, from The Iliad to the present day. Throughout the movie, I had the feeling that something very strange and very gay was going on, but I didn't know (and still don't know) exactly what; it's all so subtle and quiet that you have to pay close attention to capture the tension that builds up slowly - so slowly that when the end comes and you think nothing has happened, it was actually happening all along. Beau Travail is the story of soldiers from the French legion camped in Djibouti, and commander Galoup's obsessive routine changes with the arrival of soldier Sentain.
When I looked up the soundtrack (a kind of opera that is equally sinister and enchanting) I discovered that the film is based on the novella Billy Budd by Herman Melville (on my TBR for years) and the music used is precisely an opera by Benjamin Britten that adapts the novella. I found the presence of a “legion” and a salt desert, which crystallizes everything that appears there, very biblical, and now knowing the connection with Melville, perhaps it really is.
MUSIC & PODCASTS
Sixpence and None the Richer (album) - 1997
It's impossible to stay sad listening to Sixpence and None the Richer, and this album - which I listened to non-stop in July - is infallible in its ability to cheer me up and make me feel like I'm in a 90s romantic comedy (the ideal scenario at any time). For the Latinos, it reminds me of Floribella in some ways... Lots of good songs besides Kiss Me, I promise.
Girls - The Dare
Thank you Barack Obama for putting this song on your Spotify playlist and making it reach me through TikTok. This song is so good that it's too good for the parties that are within my reach — so much so that listening to The Dare makes me want to sell all my belongings and abandon everything to be a NY clubber. The desire passes as soon as the song ends, don't worry.
How the Plantagenets forged the English state - History Extra Podcast
The Plantagenet dynasty is one of my great historical obsessions, mainly because of Shakespeare's English History plays. This episode of History Extra offers a panorama of the type of rule carried out by the Plantagenets (and how different it was from the past until then) regarding military conquests, internal politics, the legislation created, family conflicts, etc., from the beginning with Henry II to Edward III. If you don't know much about this part of history, this is a good place to start sharing my obsession.
Jeff Buckley - You and I Documentary
Jeff Buckley is very special to me, not just for the music itself but for the kind of artist he was. I almost died of envy watching this documentary because it reveals what Jeff's early career was like, and the story sounds like something out of a movie: in the early 90s, at the iconic Sin-é café in the East Village/NY, Jeff would play every Monday in a tiny setting, pausing only to sit and drink with friends or wash dishes in the kitchen. According to the testimonies and videos of the shows, it was something magical and intimate, unthinkable today. When I hear these stories (or even when I see scenes from Friends in Central Perk) I feel heartsick, missing an urban culture that I never experienced - having your own space in the city, where you can connect with the environment and the space, and in Jeff's case, still be able to witness the birth of one of the greatest artists of the last century.
This month I've been listening a lot to the album with the recordings made in Sin-é (34 songs including covers and "drafts" of other songs), and after watching the documentary I was moved as I listened, imagining him improvising live...
Béla Bartók: Duke Blubeard's Castle - London Symphony Orchestra (1988)
This version of Bartók's opera by the London Symphony Orchestra is absolutely incredible, recorded as if it were a real movie rather than a filmed theater. Based on the fairytale of Bluebeard - a nobleman who takes his new wife to his mysterious castle, and she, too curious, can't help herself and discovers the terrible fate of his former wives - Bartók's opera manages to be even more sinister and even downright surreal.
What a great collation here - Sixpence None the Richer takes me right back to 90s London, thank you for the reminder, this will now be in my Spotify roster.