Friday, September 30, 2011

Friday in America

It is a very good morning

And all I want is more
A woman buys coffee she won’t drink
And somewhere a platoon of names
are suddenly homeless

As a blonde walks byA boy's brains
Leave his head
Like his last memory of spring

And here we sit worried
We can’t finish
More than names are lost

It is a very good morning
The sun is here
And all I want is more

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Water and the Setting Sun

Will you be my daisy passing, or be the grave I dig?

Bad questions fill the air until the night.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Coffee and Cigarettes

The final scene of Coffee and Cigarettes with Taylor Meade and Bill Rice just might be the best cinematic moment I've seen yet. I won't link to the scene, because it is more poignant if you watch the whole film.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

On "A View of the Woods"

"A View of the Woods" by Flannery O'Connor is perfectly typical for that author's style. The loved child, defiant - subtle but certain proof that the world is not aligned the way it should be, that this world is tainted with injustice fashioned by God for sins a life has worked itself against and, unknowingly, for.

Some have commented on a reflexive Oedipal-Elektra complex between the old man and the girl. ( It doesn't strike me as something intentional. This kind of relationship is reminiscent of the one between Francis Marion Tarwater and his great uncle in The Violent Bear it Away, O'Connor's great second and final novel. It is not about sex but about old and new, the past and the future's death grip on the present. I would contend that this is the same dynamic we find in "Woods." The blog above also mentions things such as how the natural world in the story is described in human terms, while people are done so in those more animalistic. The businessman's serpentine features fit cleanly into O'Connor's Christian ethos, and the clay motif also instills in the story a realism you can almost smell.

The ending is quintessential O'Connor, the imagery vague and haunting, recalling O'Connor's story "The River" and, to a lesser degree for me, "The Turkey." When I read "Woods" it did not matter to me the actual fate of the girl at the end. The author's deft craft conveys what the reader needs to know, that she has crossed to the other side, has left this world, entirely -- tainted and scarred as it is -- all chances for redemption, but Fortune's dream.