Book recs
Some book recs:
-Erotica, Love and Humor in Arabia: Spicy Stories from the Book of Songs by Al-Isfahani is a great, and all-too-brief selection of anecdotes from a giant medieval Persian book on life in the great cities of the time. A lot of the stuff was eye-opening even for me, and it was great to see numerous stories of the great lady singers of the time who pretty much loved whomever they wanted, wrote thousands of songs and enjoyed great respect. They were like the rock stars of the era, except you get the idea that there was a lot more permissiveness about in the circles they moved in in comparison to even the Western world today. And what's fantastic is that one of these women, Arib, was JA'FAR'S DAUGHTER! Fucking hell! There's scarcely any information around about which Barmakids even survived Harun's massacre, let alone about the female members of the family, so it was *fantastic* to know that Arib did well. More than well, in fact, penning down over a thousand songs, being a well-educated woman of letters people came to for advice and also a healthily sexual woman who had dozens of lovers during her lifetime. *And* people would still come to her and ask her advice about the matters of love when she was still an old lady! So that was fantastic.
The only downsides of the book are that Sawa's text is a bit too colloquial even when he's supposed to be writing in a nonfiction style, outside the anecdotes. I wouldn't use terms like "horny" or "songstress" in a nonfiction book, even if terms like that might be appropriate for the anecdote translations themselves. Minus points also for him using "vagina" and "vulva" interchangeably *even* if it, strangely, looks like he might even know the difference between the two. Some of the translations also seem a bit clumsy because I get the sense that the original poem could've been translated more beautifully, with less prosaic terms. This is true especially in the love song section, where "weep" would look less clumsy than "cry", for instance.
But these are minor niggles, because the content itself is incredibly valuable and is the sort of thing the world *really* needs to know more about, what with the Middle East having sucked itself into a black hole of conservativism to the point where, well, the medieval times look happier! So it's incredibly important for people to even know about things having been different. Which is why I've dragged myself of my arse to even rec the book, even if I normally can't be bothered to do book reviews. So, yeah, worth checking out.
-I've only just started to read the original novel of Passing of the Third Floor Back. And it's interesting how it meets exactly that fantasy any grown-up and analytical person has always had, when exasperated with people who can't understand their own, negative patterns, their stuck-up and damaging ways of navigating the world, of their pettinesses and how they just make life more difficult for themselves and each other: some force, supernatural perhaps, arriving and making people see these things. I've only read the first part of it, and I have no idea if I'm going to hate the rest of it, but that's exactly what the Stranger's character does: he just comes in and people suddenly start to behave differently because something inside of them (their better self, the book calls it) compels them into doing the right thing. But beyond that, they can see their own shit and how it affects the world--but the most important thing about the Stranger's presence/gaze is that it also cultivates the good in those people.
What I found remarkable about the character of the Stranger (whether you think of him as an angel, or a saint, or just a really good human being) in the 1935 film is that he brings out the truth, *but* he doesn't do it in a bashing kind of way. This is the crucial difference to the way religions and psychology and the world in general usually treat people's flaws: he doesn't smack people upside the head like a guru would (because the student's an easily distracted fool and needs discipline and bashes on the head to find the right path), nor is he the priest preaching about what a sinner the person is, nor is he a psychiatrist declaring that person "avoidant" or slapping on diagnoses. He *immediately* goes for what is good in that person, *immediately* goes for that person's strengths, immediately offers mercy and love and doesn't dwell on the fuckups. That's the crucial, crucial difference. He actually goes wayyyyy past the fuckups and puts them firmly in the past, and just by being there, brings the person awareness on how they can be different, shows them the tools, gives them the loving, supporting, compassionate nudge forwards. "Here are the tools, here is compassion, here is love--you can do this." And that's *far* more useful (for certain kinds of persons at least) because he places upon them a responsibility to get it right. He doesn't work with that sort of punishment/reward, carrot/stick thing that just leads people into dodging punishment, nor is wallowing an option. It's just "well, what are you going to do about it?" and that's the big kick up the arse.
And in the movie, what's also remarkable is that the Stranger, by his very presence, *empowers.* He is an agent of the divine current, the life-force, of power, and he doesn't use it to smack people around, but he--crucially--*shares* in it. He charges other people with it. He spreads it out. It isn't a trickle-down thing, it isn't some guy up on a cloud or on a pedestal telling people what to do. It's the power itself, the life-force, making itself known, and making people known of the responsibility they have to wield it right. But that force also shows people what they can be, and all the good things they can do. It's utterly different from any kind of mainstream spirituality in that matter; it's as close as I've ever seen another spiritual manifestation come to "the power-with, not power-over" principles of feminist witchcraft. He comes in and it's "I trust you. Don't fuck it up." And it's not just empty words, but a true, palpable power, something incredibly mesmerising and awe-inspiring. (And I doubt they could've made it work the same way with any other actor, now that I've been reading the book). But I'll leave you with that before I just start going on about Connie again. Trust that I wouldn't recommend a movie just because he was in it, though--it is a remarkable film I'd recommend to anyone with a spiritual bent. (And as I'm at my most cynical and bitterest this very moment, and very much not in the mood to be a good person because nobody else seems to fucking bother, that's saying a lot.)
-Erotica, Love and Humor in Arabia: Spicy Stories from the Book of Songs by Al-Isfahani is a great, and all-too-brief selection of anecdotes from a giant medieval Persian book on life in the great cities of the time. A lot of the stuff was eye-opening even for me, and it was great to see numerous stories of the great lady singers of the time who pretty much loved whomever they wanted, wrote thousands of songs and enjoyed great respect. They were like the rock stars of the era, except you get the idea that there was a lot more permissiveness about in the circles they moved in in comparison to even the Western world today. And what's fantastic is that one of these women, Arib, was JA'FAR'S DAUGHTER! Fucking hell! There's scarcely any information around about which Barmakids even survived Harun's massacre, let alone about the female members of the family, so it was *fantastic* to know that Arib did well. More than well, in fact, penning down over a thousand songs, being a well-educated woman of letters people came to for advice and also a healthily sexual woman who had dozens of lovers during her lifetime. *And* people would still come to her and ask her advice about the matters of love when she was still an old lady! So that was fantastic.
The only downsides of the book are that Sawa's text is a bit too colloquial even when he's supposed to be writing in a nonfiction style, outside the anecdotes. I wouldn't use terms like "horny" or "songstress" in a nonfiction book, even if terms like that might be appropriate for the anecdote translations themselves. Minus points also for him using "vagina" and "vulva" interchangeably *even* if it, strangely, looks like he might even know the difference between the two. Some of the translations also seem a bit clumsy because I get the sense that the original poem could've been translated more beautifully, with less prosaic terms. This is true especially in the love song section, where "weep" would look less clumsy than "cry", for instance.
But these are minor niggles, because the content itself is incredibly valuable and is the sort of thing the world *really* needs to know more about, what with the Middle East having sucked itself into a black hole of conservativism to the point where, well, the medieval times look happier! So it's incredibly important for people to even know about things having been different. Which is why I've dragged myself of my arse to even rec the book, even if I normally can't be bothered to do book reviews. So, yeah, worth checking out.
-I've only just started to read the original novel of Passing of the Third Floor Back. And it's interesting how it meets exactly that fantasy any grown-up and analytical person has always had, when exasperated with people who can't understand their own, negative patterns, their stuck-up and damaging ways of navigating the world, of their pettinesses and how they just make life more difficult for themselves and each other: some force, supernatural perhaps, arriving and making people see these things. I've only read the first part of it, and I have no idea if I'm going to hate the rest of it, but that's exactly what the Stranger's character does: he just comes in and people suddenly start to behave differently because something inside of them (their better self, the book calls it) compels them into doing the right thing. But beyond that, they can see their own shit and how it affects the world--but the most important thing about the Stranger's presence/gaze is that it also cultivates the good in those people.
What I found remarkable about the character of the Stranger (whether you think of him as an angel, or a saint, or just a really good human being) in the 1935 film is that he brings out the truth, *but* he doesn't do it in a bashing kind of way. This is the crucial difference to the way religions and psychology and the world in general usually treat people's flaws: he doesn't smack people upside the head like a guru would (because the student's an easily distracted fool and needs discipline and bashes on the head to find the right path), nor is he the priest preaching about what a sinner the person is, nor is he a psychiatrist declaring that person "avoidant" or slapping on diagnoses. He *immediately* goes for what is good in that person, *immediately* goes for that person's strengths, immediately offers mercy and love and doesn't dwell on the fuckups. That's the crucial, crucial difference. He actually goes wayyyyy past the fuckups and puts them firmly in the past, and just by being there, brings the person awareness on how they can be different, shows them the tools, gives them the loving, supporting, compassionate nudge forwards. "Here are the tools, here is compassion, here is love--you can do this." And that's *far* more useful (for certain kinds of persons at least) because he places upon them a responsibility to get it right. He doesn't work with that sort of punishment/reward, carrot/stick thing that just leads people into dodging punishment, nor is wallowing an option. It's just "well, what are you going to do about it?" and that's the big kick up the arse.
And in the movie, what's also remarkable is that the Stranger, by his very presence, *empowers.* He is an agent of the divine current, the life-force, of power, and he doesn't use it to smack people around, but he--crucially--*shares* in it. He charges other people with it. He spreads it out. It isn't a trickle-down thing, it isn't some guy up on a cloud or on a pedestal telling people what to do. It's the power itself, the life-force, making itself known, and making people known of the responsibility they have to wield it right. But that force also shows people what they can be, and all the good things they can do. It's utterly different from any kind of mainstream spirituality in that matter; it's as close as I've ever seen another spiritual manifestation come to "the power-with, not power-over" principles of feminist witchcraft. He comes in and it's "I trust you. Don't fuck it up." And it's not just empty words, but a true, palpable power, something incredibly mesmerising and awe-inspiring. (And I doubt they could've made it work the same way with any other actor, now that I've been reading the book). But I'll leave you with that before I just start going on about Connie again. Trust that I wouldn't recommend a movie just because he was in it, though--it is a remarkable film I'd recommend to anyone with a spiritual bent. (And as I'm at my most cynical and bitterest this very moment, and very much not in the mood to be a good person because nobody else seems to fucking bother, that's saying a lot.)