Erika Writes:
It definitely hasn’t been the easiest week. With legislation targeting the LGBTQ community, especially kids in Florida, (which I wrote about again this week,) and where it passed the Florida House yesterday, as well as the Stop Woke act. Along with Texas and Alabama. Along with other terrible legislation. Plus what’s going on in Ukraine.
I think Cat Stevens sums up a lot of it.
I’ve dealt with it in words. Some on the website, and some not, although I might publish them one day.
Reading Poetry for Pleasure vs. Research
What this actually means is that I’ve done a lot of reading about anti- LGBTQ legislation. Necessary research, but it’s definitely a downer. I’m still reading Neon Gods, but I keep finding myself sucked into poetry. And this week especially, it’s been comforting. It’s been an interesting combination of poetry I’ve been reading as research and inspiration for a poem of my own and poetry I was reading just because I like it. In the first category it’s been Emily DIckinson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Walt Whitman.
Emily Dickinson isn’t the easiest to read, but have some fun with this video, if you like. Adam and I have had a couple of conversations this week that reference Allen Ginsberg, who ranks among my favorites as well as his. I’ve read a few of his poems this week. We got a little nerdy the other day and talked about the relationship between Ginsberg and Gregory Corso and so I have Ginsberg’s Death and Fame open in front of me.
Spoken Word Poetry
For my own inspiration, it’s the usual contemporary stuff, a lot of spoken word poetry. Poetry has always been one of my favorite things to write, but when I started writing again I found that I write a lot more read-aloud poetry now than I used to. It’s not the way I have seen my writing, but I like it, and perhaps one day, I’ll have an opportunity to read it (and the confidence to do it, too. I’ve been reading (and listening to) Guante (Kyle Tran Myhre) as well.
Two favorites of mine: Ten Responses to the Phrase ‘Man Up’ (there’s a video along with the text of the poem and commentary from the poet, too,) and Consent at 10,000 feet. (Also text, video and commentary.) Simone Stolzoff’s “Boyfriend Material” came up as I flipped through things. I’ve also been checking out Jesse Parent, who is new to me, and who made me sob with this poem. And Alex Dang, too.
I’ve been thinking a lot about toxic masculinity this week. Can you tell?
It makes me sad. And angry. A little like the conflict in this poem, too.
I guess that’s sort of been home for me for a while. Sad and angry.
Music as Background for Writing Poetry
Listening this week has been a little different. Stress does a number on my patience. It’s a funny conflict, because I’ve kind of been hyperfocused on writing a particular poem based on something that I said during a phone call with Adam at the beginning of the week. So here I am, hyperfocused on the poem, which usually means I lose track of whatever music I’ve got on and instead, between the horrible legislative stuff and my own pressure to finish this poem I’m finding music a distraction.
But music, if I can find the right piece, is less distracting than silence for my racing brain. And that means that I keep interrupting my work to find the right music, getting frustrated because I can’t find anything that works, and then when I finally do, I have to get back into the right headspace for work. What that actually means is that I’ve listened to a little bit of a lot of things as I tried to find what fits into the narrow chasm between “distraction” and “enough to keep the brain-squirrels at bay.”
Anger and Tchaikovsky
Anger, for me, however, goes well with Tchaikovsky, who I rarely listen to otherwise. And so, I’ve been listening to Tchaikovsky while I write. I rarely seek out Tchaikovsky. But when you do things like make custard, you temper eggs and then fold them into other ingredients. And that’s kind of what happened here this week. Certain music for a certain temper. You can skip to the good part of the 1812 Overture if you want, but it was just what I needed to be able to engage with what I was trying to do.
It wasn’t only the 1812 Overture–I also listened to the Third Symphony and I put on Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite, too. The Firebird just fades right out for me–I played it so many times in orchestras when I was growing up. None of these are favorite pieces of music or anything–they just worked for me this week.
High School Hair-Metal
There was also a trip back in time to hair metal and junior high school. The chorus got stuck in my head and the only way to get it out was to dig up this song which I haven’t heard in decades, but it hit the spot for a moment this week
I was much happier when I was listening to the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus. It fueled some of the writing I did on Monday as I raced to finish the second “Don’t Say Gay” piece. You can imagine the uproar when this song was released because of the title. It was clear that some people saw the title, didn’t actually listen to the song and immediately raised alarms.
Free to Be You and Me
While I was trying to figure out what I wanted to say in the Don’t Say Gay article, I found myself thinking about the lyrics from some of the songs in Free to Be You and Me. I started watching video clips and discovered the whole entire thing is available online. Watching it was a highlight of my week. I’m amazed that it turns 50 this year. Another thing that turns 50 this year? The soundtrack to Harold and Maude! The film itself was released in 1971, and the soundtrack was released the following year–I was reminded of this when I was listening to Cat Steven’s/Yusef Islam the other day and when I needed to disengage, I still had that movie on my mind, and so I watched it.
Sundry YouTube Recs
The MGM Grand Hotel Disaster: This randomly popped up in my YouTube recommendations. I clicked on it because my parents happened to be in the MGM Grand when the fire started–they were in Las Vegas, staying at another hotel but had wandered over to the MGM Grand to get something to eat. My mother smelled smoke, and so my parents decided to leave and go elsewhere just in time. A few months later, during a family trip to Disney World, we had a similar experience, although the fire was far less serious–my mother’s awareness of the smell of smoke when we were approaching a restaurant caused a sudden change in plans. We later found out there was an escalator fire not far from where we had been heading.
Twinkleberry: My Super Gay School Year: Another short documentary, this one is about a school in a small town in England which suddenly had more than thirty gay students in one year group.
Coming out Elle Mills Style: I don’t know how I missed this when it was first posted, but it was recommended to me this week. It’s charming, it’s sweet, and you can see the influence of filmmakers like John Hughes. It was good for a smile-worthy moment in a week that didn’t have many.
Adam Writes:
We all have Ukraine in our thoughts today, one way or another. It’s weird knowing that entire cities’ worth of people are suffering immeasurably half a world away. And not to be able to do anything about it. No, not weird. Sad. Frustrating. Debilitating. Frightening.
Usually when I’m this frustrated and depressed, I try to concentrate on two things:
1. The little good I can do right in front of me.
2. German romantic music.
German Nineteenth Century Music
I don’t know how shit it was to be German in the nineteenth century. (The German States. Germany wasn’t a country, as such, when most of this music was written.) Mind, I do know how shit it was to be German in the 20th century. I heard stories from my grandmother who left Germany in 1939. But it does seem that the great German composers focused particularly hard on capturing the human struggle in music. In particular, on capturing the journey from darkness into light. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that the two most famous pieces of music from the 19th century (both by the same composer) start in a minor key, evoking sadness and loss. And end in a major key, evoking triumph and joy.
I mean, of course, Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony
(Why three videos instead of one? Just listen to this version and you’ll see. I also like his pre-concert talk in which he explains that Beethoven’s fifth is the first piece in the history of western music to include the modern trombone in the orchestra.)
…and Beethoven’s Ninth symphony.
(This is a rare recording on period instruments. I can’t comment on the accuracy of the research that led to these instruments, these tempos etc. I can just comment on the fact that I cry when i listen to this recording. And sometimes you need that.)
Wagner’s Tone-Poetry
On a lark today, I was listening to the Prelude to Das Rheingold by Richard Wagner. Which is the Prelude to the whole Ring Cycle. It’s a really odd moment in music. The only time you hear anything like it (an orchestra vamping on a single chord and going faster and faster) is Steve Reich. I expect Wagner would hate the comparison, because Reich is Jewish. Good. Fuck ‘im.
The Prelude really is gorgeous, though. It starts with a single note, low and long. Then a second note. Then a chord. And then the chord starts moving. It simultaneously feels like it’s meant to evoke the creation of the world… and an introductory music theory class.
I often find myself sitting and thinking about artists whom the world knows to be unrepentant assholes but who filled their wake with such beauty. Picasso, the abuser. Wagner the anti-Semite. Conrad the racist. All I can really do is say “thank you” out of one side of my mouth. And “fuck you” out of the other. I need their art to stay sane. But I don’t need to tolerate intolerance.
“New” Instruments
Another thought stirs. It must have been odd listening to music in the 19th century when the orchestra was literally in flux. Every time you went back to the symphony, The clarinet might have new keys.
Or there might be a new lower brass instrument.
Or you’d have to elbow your neighbor and say: What the fuck is that? And they’d say: “It’s a saxophone, you idiot. Adolphe Saxe just invented it. I guess he thought the orchestra’s color-palette was missing an instrument that sounds like a duck having a really tuneful orgasm.” Of course, there’d always be someone leaving the auditorium in a huff because they heard a particularly dissonant racket. But that’s not the saxophones. Or the baritone horns. Or the new key-work on the clarinet. Nope, just the violas screwing up as usual.
Anyway. There’s some great recommendations there. I’d love to hear which is your favorite. I’d also love to know if anyone has thoughts on any of it. Do let’s talk music!
Music of course is not the only thing on my mind. A lot of us have been reading stuff like this lately. It really does suck when things come three at a time and you can barely handle one. I’ve been using audiobooks of Wheel of Time to go to sleep at night.
The Wheel of Time: Knife of Dreams
I read a negative review of Wheel of Time recently that I think was instructive. The two main things I remember from the review were:
- The books are too long, with too little plot.
- The gender roles are too rigid.
Wheel of Time and Gender
I can’t speak to the latter as much as I like. I have never seriously considered going through life as anything other than a guy. That is, I can of course say there’s real poetry in this book. But that’s not important if the thing is antiquated nonsense. Conrad has poetry. Hemingway has poetry. Poetry isn’t enough by itself. Or if it is to be enough, we need a new definition.
But the central idea of the books is one that dovetails nicely with a modern understanding of gender politics. You see, 3000 years ago (according to the timeline of the books) there was a geological event of sorts, in which all of the male wizards went insane simultaneously. It’s called “The Breaking of the World.” As a direct result of that catastrophe, you see mostly matriarchal societies in the Wheel of Time. Lots of empresses and queens. Not as many kings as you’d expect.
Now, this would be stuff and nonsense if the implication were that in our world, some world-changing event happened in our past and thus it is good and right and just that men should be in charge. It didn’t. And it isn’t. What it means is that arbitrary happenstance can lead to stereotypes that persist three thousand years later. And that cautionary advice is as true of the genders in Wheel of Time as of the nationalities.
Good lesson.
Wheel of Time and Plot
As for the books being too long and having too little plot? Just say you don’t like them. And while you’re at it, say you don’t like The Old Man and the Sea and The Lord of the Rings and Mrs. Dalloway. Oh, and Gora by Rabindranath Tagore (you haven’t read it? Get off your ass!)
Not every book needs much plot. Wheel of Time has like 50 memorable characters. It wouldn’t have half that if it didn’t take time to flesh them out. And in that case the books would be nice and short and forgettable. You could consume them and then shit them back out faster than corn.
I Like the Word “Telly”
I notice I haven’t been giving much advice on what to watch on the telly lately. My last five or ten Watch/Listen/Read segments have either skipped what I’ve watched… Or grazed the subject as minimally as possible.
And you know what? I’m okay with that. I don’t find it sufficiently interesting to talk about my latest favorite TV show. Or rather I’d have to address the whole subject of watching TV while depressed during a pandemic.
And that is an essay for another day.
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