Reading is sexy II
Reading is sexy, unless you're an ass researching your family tree to prove your aristocratic bloodlines, that is. "Back to his grandfather" aquatint etching by Goya.
16. From Zorro I moved on to Goya, as he would have been contemporaneous with the fictional freedom fighter, and in Allende's novel, (somewhat ahistorically I now know, about 5 years too early) the prints of Goya figure. I found Evan S. Connell's "Goya: A Life". This was a very interesting book by an author the publishers purport to be one of America's best contemporary authors. It was a rather idiosyncratic* biography, sadly with a dearth of photos of Goya's work! This struck me as particularly inexcusable, since so many of his greatest works (in my opinion) are etchings, which are in black and white, hence cheap to reproduce. How can one meaningfully describe artwork without reference to the works in question? I searched my art books and found to my surprise that I didn't have many reproductions of Goya's work either, though I've always appreciated it. So I went to BMV and bought #17.
Connell is a writer, not an art historian. An opinionated writer at that. Though I found him rather sexist (his summation of Mrs. Goya, about whom we know basically nothing, is insulting; his version of the Countess of Alba, whose extreme wealth results in far more preserved documentation, is essentially a cruel, capricious, slut, which she may well have been, but he gives the sense that this is far from unusual amongst (rich) women), I quite enjoyed his novelistic approach. Essentially, there are many things we are unlikely to ever know about Goya and many myths exist; hence he logically writes about Goya, eschewing a strictly chronological or linear approach. Goya might have done this; he may have done that. Some historians believe A; others B. Despite what we don't know, Goya evidently had an adventurous life, rising from humble beginnings, to travel to Italy and France and spend much of his long adult life as a (reasonably) privileged court painter, who consistently expresses himself and his opinion of human frailty, evil, pride, deceit and somehow managed not to be killed. He also freely entered war zones and besieged cities to depict the carnage, and was shown respect by his Spanish countrymen and the Napoleonic forces alike.
What I found most changed my thoughts about the artist was learning that "Saturn devouring his young" WAS PAINTED ON HIS DINING ROOM WALL. Can you imagine? In fact all of his "black paintings" were painted on the walls of his home. I'm not sure if this is an indictment against his mental health or a sign that he understood that, as they say in Quebec, même les bordes ont des limits (even borders have limits... i.e. don't push it too far).
17. "I, Goya" by Dagmar Feghelm. Being forced to find images of Goya somewhere I bought this far more straightforward book. Informative, beautifully illustrated. What I found funny was that the author's name is not on the cover, the spine, or the box, and can only be found on the title page inside. This is in complete contrast the the third book on Goya I recently received from Di, "Goya & Paul Lauzon" whose author seemed to feel the need to place himself in the title. I was too lazy to read it, as it is in French, and will stick to looking at the pictures.
18. Simon Winchester "The Map That Changed the World", a best selling non-fiction about William Smith (also end of 18th century, early 19th century), a self-trained blacksmith son who is the "father of modern geology". Simon Winchester is a talented popularizer of science and an interesting non-fiction writer with a background in geology. Simon Winchester is a bit chauvinistic about England and his alma mater, Oxford. Simon Winchester never read a single fact which he did not find fascinating. Simon Winchester needs a more brutal editor. I don't have the book in front of me so I can't give an exact quotation, but was got me was when a minor person in William Smith's live is described as not being related to some other contemporaneous person with the same last name, who was accused of murder (and he goes on to sketch the details). Argh! I think that sometimes leaving things out can be as important to storytelling as putting things in. That said, the book is clear, interesting, informative and largely enjoyable book. It is also brilliantly packaged in hardcover, with a reproduction of William Smith's revolutionary geological map of Britain (he introduced the very concept of geological map) as a dust-jacket. This map "changed the world" by eventually showing the true sorce of fossils and the incredible age of the earth, facts which along with Darwin's "Origin of Species" changed the way western civilization viewed themselves and the planet. (I prefered Krakatoa where the tangents were more interesting).
19. Having had enough of Napoleonic Spain (or Napoleonic geniuses after Goya, Gauss, von Humbolt, William Smith and Zorro moreorless) I moved to something completely different. Ursula K. LeGuin "Gifts". I bought this book at Monroe's in Victoria, one of my favorite bookstores of all time. It was on the bargain table. I enjoyed the Earthsea books as a young person and more recently enjoyed "Changing Planes", a book of short stories about other worlds, and airports. So I grabbed it. It was an engrossing fantasy novel (which in hindsight, was probably aimed at young people). It's a coming-of-age story set in a land which is like a more barbaric Scotland than that of Rob Roy, wherein clans have the added complexity of hereditary supernatural "gifts", like the ability to kill things with a glance, or to call animals, or to tie living things in knots. The land is referred to as a highland, but never as Scotland, nor is the word clan used. The "gifts" are also burdens, and more natural "gifts" like teaching someone to read prove their value. A very good little book.
20. "Rashomon and 17 other stories" by Ryunosuke Akutagawa (intro. Haruki Murakami, trans. Jay Rubin). Jordie gave this to me for my birthday, knowing I love Murakami. The intro is scholarly and a bit odd in that the praise is muted. He makes it clear that Akutagawa is not his favorite author, but in the top ten of national Japanese authors. Akutagawa was a follower of Soseki (whose marvellous "I am a cat" is a must-read). The translator (whose book on Murakami, I've also read) tried to give a more complete version of the incredible breath of material covered in Akutagawa's short stories, as well as a summary of his eventful, short life. The stories are of varying quality and intrigue, but some are truly staggering and the imagery is quite powerful. "Hell Screen" is shocking. "Horse Legs" is brilliant; it seems to anticipate Kafka's "Metamorphosis" or Moacyr Scliar's "The Centaur in the Garden" (which one day, I will steal back from faunalia). A very unusual and interesting read.
21. Trying to spread out the prized birthday loot, like a child slowly eating her Halloween hoard, I have not yet started the latest Murakami. Instead, I started Peter Tuchi's "Maps of the imagination: The writer as cartographer". The illustrations are lovely and intriguing, but occasionally simply random and unrelated to the text, which irks me. The book, which I hoped would be about ties between maps, imagination and creativity, is more about "how to write". It is interesting and enlightening. I find the style clunky, which is rather funny from a professor of creative writing, though he certainly can draw on a wealth of examples from literature of his various points. The ties to maps seem slightly tenuous, but we'll see... I think Simon Winchester should read the chapter about blank space, "putters-in" and "leavers-out".
The second image is to validate the post-title in contradiction to the ass-etching. It is a Théodore Roussel. Jeune fille lisant. 1886, via Le Divan Fumoir Bohémien.
*The idiosyncratic artist-biography you should read is M The Man Who Became Carravagio by Peter Robb. The style is odd. I wasn't sure at first that I would like it. It's a fabulous book. Never have tennis courts seemed so risqué. Never was there a more talented shit-disturber. I think blythechild would really enjoy it.
This post was brought to you by the letter X, the number 17 and the words alliteration and assonance. I never said I wasn't wordy. Perhaps I too am in need of a more brutal editor.