(no subject)
If anyone is interested in going with me to Budapest, or at the very least a little stop up in new york or philly after that, over thanksgiving break, lemme know.
I got a new book the other day entitled Flicker. The one sentence plot blurb immediatley attracted me to the book, "After becoming obsessed with the work of a hack filmmaker, a Los Angeles film student concludes that B movies are part of a plot to obliterate life on Earth." From what I've read already, it's a film buffs wet dream. I'm 50 pages in and I love all the subtle references. Anyway, there's a part where the main character is decribing his sexual relationship with this older woman who's a film auteur. During sex she would launch into stream of consciousness diatribes about film theory. ???? I couldn't stop laughing. Maybe it was because I actually knew what she started talking about or just the sheer preposterousness of the situation, but I couldn't keep a straight face.
"...When, in the act of love, she began to murmur a stream-of-consciousness lecture on Russian Formalism in my ear, I felt certain I should pause and take respectful notes. But no. With a pelvic shove and a slap to my buttocks, she bullied me on, almost angrily...When we finished on that first occasion, we lay for a long while in silent exaustion. Then, as she reached for the inevitable cigarette at the bedside, Clare turned to me with a slyly provocative look. "Of course, you have to take Balazs into account as the definitive statement on Formalism."
I don't think I've laughed this hard in awhile when reading a book. It was like reading some perverse, neo-D.H Lawerence or something. Were I to be in an intimate situation, I think the last thing on my mind would be Russian Formalism. It would be German Expressionism, natch. Kidding. I leave film theory for 3 places, the academics, the theater, and the occasional coffe house conversation. I've put forth the situation to about ten people so far and I've been met with that odd "where the fuck did you get this idea?" stare. They all agreed that they would have similar reactions to me. So at least I'm not the only one who thinks it's weird to discuss the tenants of the Left Bank movement and it's reasons for the rejection of the Classical Hollywood Style after World War II in-between the sheets.
Another book that I recently started is called Class, about, ironically enough, the class system in America. Very funny stuff, very witty. The opening paragraph has a great little sentence. "when recently asked what i am writing, i have answered "a book about social class in America," people tend first to straighten their ties and sneak a glance at their cuffs to see how far fraying has advanced there. then, a few minutes later, they silently get up and walk away. its not just that i am feared as a class spy. it is as if i had said, "I am working on a book urging the beating to death of baby whales using the dead bodies of baby seals." It's good to know that there are authors out there with senses of humor close to mine. He also rips on New Jersey, which makes him gold in my book, "In the face of this, the question arises, 'Where then may a member of the top classes live in this country?'...It is not considered good form to live in New Jersey, except perhaps in Princeton."
I got a new book the other day entitled Flicker. The one sentence plot blurb immediatley attracted me to the book, "After becoming obsessed with the work of a hack filmmaker, a Los Angeles film student concludes that B movies are part of a plot to obliterate life on Earth." From what I've read already, it's a film buffs wet dream. I'm 50 pages in and I love all the subtle references. Anyway, there's a part where the main character is decribing his sexual relationship with this older woman who's a film auteur. During sex she would launch into stream of consciousness diatribes about film theory. ???? I couldn't stop laughing. Maybe it was because I actually knew what she started talking about or just the sheer preposterousness of the situation, but I couldn't keep a straight face.
"...When, in the act of love, she began to murmur a stream-of-consciousness lecture on Russian Formalism in my ear, I felt certain I should pause and take respectful notes. But no. With a pelvic shove and a slap to my buttocks, she bullied me on, almost angrily...When we finished on that first occasion, we lay for a long while in silent exaustion. Then, as she reached for the inevitable cigarette at the bedside, Clare turned to me with a slyly provocative look. "Of course, you have to take Balazs into account as the definitive statement on Formalism."
I don't think I've laughed this hard in awhile when reading a book. It was like reading some perverse, neo-D.H Lawerence or something. Were I to be in an intimate situation, I think the last thing on my mind would be Russian Formalism. It would be German Expressionism, natch. Kidding. I leave film theory for 3 places, the academics, the theater, and the occasional coffe house conversation. I've put forth the situation to about ten people so far and I've been met with that odd "where the fuck did you get this idea?" stare. They all agreed that they would have similar reactions to me. So at least I'm not the only one who thinks it's weird to discuss the tenants of the Left Bank movement and it's reasons for the rejection of the Classical Hollywood Style after World War II in-between the sheets.
Another book that I recently started is called Class, about, ironically enough, the class system in America. Very funny stuff, very witty. The opening paragraph has a great little sentence. "when recently asked what i am writing, i have answered "a book about social class in America," people tend first to straighten their ties and sneak a glance at their cuffs to see how far fraying has advanced there. then, a few minutes later, they silently get up and walk away. its not just that i am feared as a class spy. it is as if i had said, "I am working on a book urging the beating to death of baby whales using the dead bodies of baby seals." It's good to know that there are authors out there with senses of humor close to mine. He also rips on New Jersey, which makes him gold in my book, "In the face of this, the question arises, 'Where then may a member of the top classes live in this country?'...It is not considered good form to live in New Jersey, except perhaps in Princeton."