At 201 minutes, it’s a tremendously challenging affront to convention: In a typical sequence, Jeanne discovers she only has one potato, she goes to the store to buy a bag of potatoes, and she peels the potatoes one by one. Yet the miracle of the film is that her daily tasks, which she executes with admirable fastidiousness, hint at deep psychological stress. It’s like watching her unravel in slow motion.It might also be like watching paint dry, but we shall see.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
One damned thing after another
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
I see a darkness
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
You picked a fine time to leave me, loose wheel
(By which I mean actual kids and an actual pool, not that I was planning to take a dump.)
So now I'm back in the drag-the-disabled-bike-t0-the-repair-shop-and-wait-forever game, one I've avoided for years mostly by only riding bikes so dilapidated and poorly put together that the first crisis was also the last – a mechanical problem that would have been a minor setback in a newer bike hit mine like a flu in a rest home, wiping the thing out.
Anyway, this is what I get for writing something nice on this blog... Lesson learned.
Monday, August 17, 2009
I've got a bike, you can ride it (on the sidewalk) if you like
Read it here.
The last time I wrote something about urban biking for the Globe, there was a mild shitstorm in the comments. This time, there's only a couple of comments – both think I'm full of shit, though for different reasons. Story of my life.
And in case you're wondering, I end up riding on the sidewalk a lot, but always, you know, nicely.
ADDED: I'm pretty happy with the bike I've got right now – a cheap, rusty Pee Wee Herman-type thing with no gears and a back-pedal brake that clanks and scrapes along like the Tin Man in a downpour; I call it "The Red Racket" – but when next I buy a new one, I plan to get a Beater.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
Bad times are here again
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
When writer Sheila Heti received a photo of a white porcelain shoe – adorned with painted roses and the words “Cape Cod” in gold script – she had no idea who had possessed the tacky tchotchke before it was relegated to a thrift-store shelf.
“Probably a fancy lady who had a fireplace and some lace?” she ventures with a giggle.
But just because the shoe had no official history didn't mean Heti couldn't make one up. Last week, she posted a story about its (purely fictional) significance along with the knick-knack on eBay – one of dozens of items being auctioned off as part of an art experiment dubbed Significant Objects.
I don't think those knick-knacks are the only things with purely fictional significance here...
ADDED: I could probably go on a rant about the teeth-grinding sense of cultural entitlement inherent in an "art experiment" that involves embroidering random objects with clever, vaguely patronizing narratives for the amusement of a small group of foppish lovelies, but then I'd have to remember that I write literary fiction and, well, glass houses and all...
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Positive cliché, negative cliché, or "pass".
To be fair, after those pensées on Summer reading the Globe ran a couple of weeks ago, which yielded more preciousness than a diamond mine, this at least has the advantage of brevity.
A very subtle and funny writer - one I've become obsessed with over the past year - in a decidedly Muriel Spark mood. Imagine The Pr...
August over at Vestige.org has posted a long and very complimentary review/essay about my novel that morphs into a defense of the boring ol...
Terry Gilliam’s Tideland is getting some fairly harsh reviews so far, blasting it as a series of self-conciously “weird” visual images anch...
Mark Steyn is a dangerous idiot with a suspiciously homophobic streak for a bearded, show tunes-loving man who is drawn to big, strong, auth...