(Dr. Seuss & Alexander Abingdon) The Omnibus Boners

06-04-04 READ (Dr. Seuss & Alexander Abingdon) The Omnibus Boners pic 1I spot­ted this in a Good­will book-bin and snatched it. What a lit­tle trea­sure to come across! In 1931, the young com­mer­cial artist Theodore Seuss Geisel, who had already assumed the non-de-plume of “Dr. Seuss”, was com­mis­sioned to il­lus­trate three col­lec­tions of amus­ing quotes from school essays. His biog­ra­phy states that it was this that con­vinced him that he should try mak­ing a book for chil­dren. Dr. Seuss’ inim­itable style is already evi­dent in these illus­tra­tions. The school­boy bloop­ers select­ed are still very fun­ny. Some exam­ples: “Grav­ity was dis­cov­ered by Isaac Wal­ton. It is chiefly notice­able in the autumn, when apples are falling off trees”, “The Zodi­ac is the Zoo of the Sky, where lions, goats, vir­gins and oth­er ani­mals go after they are dead”, “A cow is very like a bull, but a bull hurts more”, “To stop a nose­bleed, stand on your head till your heart stops beat­ing.”, “The arti­choke was an ancient instru­ment of tor­ture”, “Hered­ity means that if your grand­fa­ther didn’t have any chil­dren, then your father prob­a­bly wouldn’t have had any, and nei­ther would you, prob­a­bly.”, “Thomas Paine was a rare indi­vid­ual, obsessed by com­mon sense.”, “Cana­di­ans raise bowl wee­vils for their wool.”, and who could for­get “Socrates was addict­ed to hem­lock, which even­tu­ally cor­rupted his morals.”? Dr. Seuss’s draw­ings do full jus­tice to these gems of error. I don’t doubt that this book is col­lectible, but it would take a gang of furi­ous Scots­men armed with clay­mores to pry it away from me. [appar­ently it isn’t worth any­thing much — a friend checked up on it] Read more »

Tuesday, April 4, 2006 — Dick Gephart Quotes Us (How’s That Again?)

In 1992, I wrote a lit­tle essay in which I crit­i­cized the wide­spread belief that democ­ra­cy is noth­ing more than a mere local cus­tom of a few “west­ern” coun­tries, of lit­tle inter­est or applic­a­bil­i­ty to most of the world. This ortho­doxy, taught in count­less uni­ver­si­ty cours­es and glibly (and glee­ful­ly) chant­ed by all the world’s enthu­si­asts for tyran­ny and exploita­tion, was, I wrote, with­out his­tor­i­cal or anthro­po­log­i­cal foun­da­tion. I point­ed out that the ele­ments on which mod­ern rep­re­sen­ta­tive democ­ra­cies were built exist in every major cul­tur­al tra­di­tion, and are the com­mon expe­ri­ence and her­itage of humankind. I sketched out a series of exam­ples that sup­port­ed my the­sis. But the arti­cle was noth­ing more than an anec­do­tal “think piece”. Read more »

(Scott 2005) Kingdom of Heaven

06-05-03 VIEW (Scott 2005) Kingdom of Heaven

The plot is lift­ed straight out of Wal­ter Scott’s The Tal­is­man. The char­ac­ters spout ridicu­lous speech­es, espous­ing mod­ern sen­ti­ments, which would be high­ly improb­a­ble com­ing out of the mouths of twelfth-cen­tu­ry peo­ple. But who cares? The bat­tle sequences at the end are mag­nif­i­cent. Medieval siege tech­niques, with rolling siege tow­ers and tre­buchets, were every bit as spec­tac­u­lar as mod­ern attacks with smart bombs and mis­siles. Visu­ally, the his­tor­i­cal detail seems fair­ly accu­rate to me. Rid­dley Scott always does some­thing worth look­ing at, even if he some­times has struc­tural prob­lems in sto­ry-telling. Visu­ally, his instincts are always on the mark.


Image of the month:

06-04-01 BLOG Image of the month

FILMS JANUARY-MARCH 2006

(Fletch­er 1986) Black­ad­der II: Bells
(Fletch­er 1986) Black­ad­der II: Head
(Fletch­er 1986) Black­ad­der II: Pota­to
(Theak­son 1994) Cadfael:Ep.4 ― Monk’s Hood Read more »

First-time listening for March, 2006

15513. (Good Char­lotte) The Chron­i­cles of Life and Death
15514. (Flam­ing Lips) Yoshi­mi Bat­tles the Pink Robots
15515. (Alessan­dro Stradel­la) Sin­fo­nia avan­ti il Barcheg­gio in D for Trum­pet, String
. . . . . Orches­tra, Trom­bone and Harp­si­chord
15516. (Alessan­dro Stradel­la) Sin­fo­nia in A Minor for Two Vio­lins, Cel­li, Dou­ble-Bass, Lute
. . . . . and Harp­shi­chord
15517. (Alessan­dro Stradel­la) Sonata a quat­tro in D for Dou­ble Orches­tra
Read more »

READING MARCH 2006

14612. (Michael Cun­ning­ham) A Home at the End of the World
14613. (Ian Rankin) Strip Jack
14614. (Kim Stan­ley Robin­son) Fifty Degrees Below Zero
14615. (Dean Mahomet) The Trav­els of Dean Mahomet, An Eigh­teenth-Cen­tu­ry Jour­ney
. . . . . Through India [ed. with an intruc­tion and bio­graph­i­cal essay by Michael H. Fish­er]
14616. (Tim Wynne-Jones) A Thief in the House of Mem­o­ry
14617. (Allen F. Davis) Spear­heads For Reform ― The Social Set­tle­ments and the Pro­gres­sive
. . . . . Move­ment 1890–1914
Read more »

(Annaud 1986) The Name of the Rose

(Annaud 1986) The Name of the Rose pic 1I’ve nev­er under­stand why this won­der­ful film had such a poor crit­i­cal recep­tion. Crit­ics com­plained that they could not fol­low the sto­ry. In fact, this medieval mys­tery, a lov­ing trib­ute to Conan Doyle’s Sher­lock Holmes sto­ries, by Umber­to Eco was very faith­ful­ly trans­lat­ed to the screen. Every­thing is per­fect­ly clear if the view­er actu­al­ly pays atten­tion (which I have not noticed film crit­ics being par­tic­u­lar­ly good at). All the per­for­mances are good, but Sean Con­nery, as the Frances­can detec­tive William of Baskerville, is superb. You can tell when an actor under­stands, not only the mean­ing and con­text of his lines, but their impli­ca­tions as well. Yes, the film is slow­ly paced, and requires some effort from the view­er to appre­ci­ate. But it has moments of great beau­ty, espe­cial­ly when William’s char­ac­ter is revealed in his inter­ac­tions with his novice, Adsel of Melk (Chris­t­ian Slater). I strong­ly rec­om­mend this film.
Read more »

Edgar Meyer

I’ve always been a suck­er for low-reg­is­ter instru­ments. A cel­lo or a vio­la da gam­ba will move me much more eas­ily than any vio­lin, and I get all dreamy if I hear a con­tra­bas­soon even tun­ing up. Edgar Mey­eris wide­ly regard­ed as the finest dou­ble-bassist alive. But I will con­sider him here as a com­poser. Now, many ter­rific solo per­form­ers have giv­en forth embarass­ing turkeys when they turned to com­pos­ing, but this is not the case with Mey­er. His Dou­ble Con­certo for Cel­lo and Dou­ble Bass, which he per­forms with the inim­itable cel­list Yo-Yo Ma, has none of the surly chug­ging along you expect from the instru­ment. It’s a spright­ly com­po­si­tion, with pleas­ant melodies, and some sar­cas­tic pas­sages that Prokofiev would be proud of.The Con­certo in D for Dou­ble Bass and Orches­tra, is down­right weird. It starts with lit­tle waft­ed frag­ments of melody, resolv­ing them every now and then into an orches­tral tut­ti, and plays lit­tle games of syn­co­pa­tion and call-and-answer. The sec­ond you think you know where the piece is head­ed, it twists out of it like a wrestler break­ing a Boston crab grapevine leg lock. It even­tu­ally drifts into a slight­ly sin­is­ter and puz­zling end­ing. The over­all effect is sur­pris­ingly pleasing.

Mey­er is a long-time friend of folk ban­jo vir­tu­oso Béla Fleck, and they’ve put out an album togeth­er that I’m most eager to hear. If any­one out there has heard it, send me a review. The two con­certi are togeth­er on the CD Mey­er and Bottesi­ni Con­cer­tos, along with two works by the 19th cen­tury Lom­bard com­poser, Gio­vanni Bottesi­ni, whose music I’ll dis­cuss next.

(Persky 1980) Serial

06-03-22 VIEW (Persky 1980) SerialCyra McFad­den’s odd­ball satire of life in Marin Coun­ty, an afflu­ent sub­urb north of San Fran­cis­co, dur­ing the late 1970’s, was made into a film in 1980. I showed this won­der­ful lit­tle piece of cul­tur­al time-trav­el to a young friend. Noth­ing could bet­ter show how much a cul­ture can trans­form in a gen­er­a­tion or two. For him, it was a voy­age to anoth­er plan­et, with incom­pre­hen­si­ble val­ues, cus­toms and jar­gon. Even for me, who was exposed to Marin coun­ty not too many years after­ward, the movie seemed bizarre. A lot of water has passed under the bridge. The film, star­ring Mar­tin Mull in the lead role of a mid­dle-aged hus­band over­whelmed by incom­pre­hen­si­ble trends and psy­chob­a­b­ble, cap­tured the ambiance per­fect­ly. McFad­den’s work was noth­ing like the scor­pi­on vicious­ness of a New York­er’s satirist— it was pure Stephen Leacock.