| The Bibliothecary The Omnigatherum blog featuring links to the most interesting and unusual vagaries of literary life I find while wandering the internet. Essays and articles I like. Reviews of books I want to read. All interspersed with my musings on how to enjoy reading while smoking your pipe. |
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Thursday, August 31, 2006 At Studio 360 you can listen to a program devoted to the greatest novel of all time, Moby-Dick. It's part of their American Icons series. I could have done without the plot summary in "dude" dialect. Wow, that was original. Who really thinks it's funny to hear someone talk like Bill and Ted? What was their second choice? Valley Girl speech? However the rest of the show is pretty good, especially Andrew Delbanco on political resonance and Ray Bradbury on channeling Herman Melville while writing the script for the John Huston film version. Comments On the topic of John Huston, there was a good profile of him on NPR a few weeks ago. Comments And to maintain a film theme for today, here's Alex Cox on The Searchers: The Searchers is an unusual film. Very few American films deal with race, and race hatred, in such unsentimental terms. . . . No such complex film could be made by Hollywood today. In the absence of any truth- telling - about racial issues, about the easy American bent for violence, about the homeland which seems to need that violence, yet won't cop to it - perhaps it's time to revisit The Searchers. Comments James Ellroy writes a grim and powerful piece linking his murdered mother, Jean Hilliker and the famously murdered Black Dahlia, Betty Short (a movie of Ellroy's novel, The Black Dahlia, is about to open): These women comprise the central myth of my life. I want to honor them both. I want this piece to redress imbalances in my previous writings about them. I want to close out their myth with an elegy. I want to grant them the peace of denied disclosure and never say another public word about them. . . . I could not openly grieve for Jean. I could grieve for Betty. I could divert the shame of incestuous lust to a safe lust-object. I could dismiss Jean with a child’s callous heart and grant a devotional love to Betty. Jean led me to Betty. Betty led me to Jean. The initial fusing was sharply brief. The sustained process has been attenuated. It’s a torch song with no crescendo and diminishing chords. It’s a near-fifty-year transit that demands these final words of explication. Comments And Richard Schickel reviews two new bios of Orson Welles: If, as the saying goes, genius is defined by an infinite capacity for taking pains, then Orson Welles was no genius. If, as another saying goes, God is in the details, then there was nothing godlike about him, either — despite the worshipful posturings of his many acolytes. Them's fightin' words, I say, in an acolytic posture. Comments Prosit, Ed The Bibliothecary always welcomes readers' comments. Wednesday, August 30, 2006 Interesting piece in Philadelphia Magazine about the power of theatre critics. Apparently, a lot of theatre people are angry that Philly Inq critic, Toby Zinman, writes that some of their shows are terrible and, surprisingly, their tickets sales are affected. With 110 theatre companies in the area, I'm not at all surprised that some of these shows suck. And suck badly. I've seen some atrocious productions in the area. I've seen fewer good shows than bad ones. The problem isn't that Zinman wields such power; the problem is that she's the only critic with a broad readership. But flogging the messenger isn't going to solve anything. Years ago, my wife and I went to see a production of Twelfth Night (by one of the companies angry with Zinman for savaging their show). At the opening speech, our jaws dropped. And it got worse. With every line of the play. This was easily the worst show we had ever seen. We had seen better elementary school shows. Delivery, costumes, blocking, sets. All of it, terrible. But we had a problem: we couldn't leave. We were seated in the middle of the theatre, close to the front. We both wanted to leave, but to do so would be very noticeable. Our leaving would be a statement. So we stayed until intermission, then ducked out. But oh what torture it was to sit through that half. We couldn't even laugh as much as we wanted because most of the funny parts weren't supposed to be funny. Now we have a rule (although we've never needed to implement it): if a show is really bad and we want to leave, no matter where we are seated, we will get up and leave. Flog on, Toby. Comments More Philly stuff today: BibliOdyssey has posted some images of lithographs of Philadelphia (the Athens of America) in the 19th Century. Some great stuff here. You can see many more of the collection, 'Philadelphia in the Romantic Age of Lithography: An illustrated history of early lithography in Philadelphia with a descriptive list of Philadelphia scenes made by Philadelphia lithographers before 1866' by Nicholas B. Wainwright at The Library Company website. Check out the terrible conflagration, T. E. Chapman Bookseller, a coffin warehouse, Lippincott and Co. where clothing is "Cheap for Cash," J. Mayland tobacconist, Independence Hall, a Masonic Hall, and a bird's eye view of Allegheny Ave. I like how these two shots (one and two)of Eastern State Penitentiary are foregrounded with bucolic, rural scenes, as if it is some country castle. The prison still stands. Visit it if you are in Philly. Comments Prosit, Ed The Bibliothecary always welcomes scathing comments from its critics. Tuesday, August 29, 2006 Too late for Shakespeare week, but who cares?! Every week can be Shakespeare week. And for Anthony James West, every week has been. West has been compiling an extraordinarily detailed census of all surviving copies of Shakes' First Folio. Here's a short piece by Paul Collins on West's Shakespearean quest: "There are now 230," says Anthony James West, a senior fellow at the University of London. If West seems surprisingly precise, it's for good reason. Only four books have had worldwide censuses—the Gutenberg Bible, Audubon's Birds of America and Copernicus' De Revolutionibus are the other three—and the Folio's tally is by far the oldest and most ambitious. While lists of Folio owners were made in 1824 and 1902, West has expanded the task into a monumental project: examining the Folios and recording details of every page of every copy. His work for the Oxford University Press series The Shakespeare First Folio: The History of the Book may qualify him as the most indefatigable pursuer of a single edition in literary history. Volume 1 charts the ups and downs—mostly ups—of what people have been willing to pay for a First Folio, and Volume 2 tracks the ownership of each one over the centuries. Two future volumes, to be published by Palgrave Macmillan, will identify the unique characteristics of each copy and include specialists' essays on Folio issues. But what I find most inspiring is that West has been doing all of this on his own dime: "I've nearly spent my life savings on this," he says a bit ruefully. He works from his home in the English countryside, but the effort has sent him crisscrossing five continents. Sounds like a great retirement job for me. Forget your inheritance, kids. I'm going book-huntin'. Comments Prosit, Ed The Bibliothecary always welcomes readers' comments. Monday, August 28, 2006 I wasn't going to post today, but this just too funny to pass up. While researching for his biography of John Betjeman, AN Wilson received what purported to be a love letter that Betjeman wrote to a hitherto unknown mistress. The letter seemed genuine, so Wilson included it in the new biography. Last week, a journalist noticed that the first letters of each sentence in the letter spelled out, "AN Wilson is a shit." There is a suspect. Bevis Hillier has also just published a book on Betjeman and the two biographers have been feuding. Here's the letter (I've highlighted the embedded code): Darling Honor, I loved yesterday. All day, I've thought of nothing else. No other love I've had means so much. Was it just an aberration on your part, or will you meet me at Mrs Holmes's again - say on Saturday? I won't be able to sleep until I have your answer. Love has given me a miss for so long, and now this miracle has happened. Sex is a part of it, of course, but I have a Romaunt of the Rose feeling about it too. On Saturday we could have lunch at Fortt's, then go back to Mrs H's. Never mind if you can't make it then. I am free on Sunday too or Sunday week. Signal me tomorrow as to whether and when you can come. Anthony Powell has written to me, and mentions you admiringly. Some of his comments about the Army are v funny. He's somebody I'd like to know better when the war is over. I find his letters funnier than his books. Tinkerty-tonk, my darling. I pray I'll hear from you tomorrow. If I don't I'll visit your office in a fake beard. All love, JB Pity it was discovered so soon. This is the kind of thing that I wish were discovered years from now, after so much had been researched and written about this particular affair. Comments Prosit, Ed The Bibliothecary always welcomes readers' comments, especially if they contain disparaging coded messages. Sunday, August 27, 2006 A great story in today's Philadelphia Inquirer: Caretaker Wayne Irby was mowing the grass at Fort Mifflin this month when he was literally swallowed up by the history of the place - up to his knees. Irby "turned the mower loose" just as the ground collapsed beneath him. Curious, he shoveled aside a few feet of earth over the next couple of days and made a stunning discovery: a tunnel and a two-room jail cell recalling the sad tale of a decorated Civil War soldier, a murder, clemency pleas to President Lincoln, and the only execution at the fort. The barred cell at casemate No. 11 once belonged to convicted killer William H. Howe before he was hanged Aug. 26, 1864. One hundred forty-two years later - almost to the day of Howe's hanging - Irby pointed a flashlight above a doorway and eyed, with surprise, a name, both handwritten and printed: W.H. Howe. On a door nearby was another message: Shun this place, oh man, whom soever thou art. That's a Dantean moment if ever there was one. I'd be looking over my shoulder for Virgil to appear. Comments Prosit, Ed The Bibliothecary always welcomes those who enter here. Saturday, August 26, 2006 Let's wrap up Shakespeare Week with these pieces: Here's Simon Callow on Stanley Wells' Shakespeare and Co: Books have distinct personalities - aggressive, manic-depressive, ingratiating or manipulative. Shakespeare and Co, as signalled by its Kiplingesque title, is warm, cheerful, generous and friendly: a companionable book. Reading it is like spending a long and lingering evening with Dr Wells as he shares his intimate and curious knowledge of the period and the man, making us become Shakespeare's contemporary, not he ours. (I always have a hard time sampling a Callow review. He's a tremendously good writer.) The cover of the book looks great, as well, and, surprisingly, was not changed for the American market. Comments From Project Gutenberg, another incisive commentary on the Bard, Shakespeare's Insomnia and the Causes Thereof by Franklin H. Head (1887): If, therefore, insomnia had prevailed in or before his time, in his pages shall we find it duly set forth. If he had suffered, if the "fringed curtains of his eyes were all the night undrawn," we shall find his dreary experiences—his hours of pathetic misery, his nights of desolation—voiced by the tongues of his men and women. The scholar, Head, unearthed letters to Shakes from Will Kempe: GLOBE PLAYHOUSE, EMPLOYMENT BUREAU, May 25, 1602. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE: In much tribulation do I write thee as to the contention which hath arisen among our stock actors and supes of the Globe. Nicholas Bottom, whom you brought from the Parish workhouse in Stratford, is in ill humor with thee in especial. He says when he played with you in Ben Jonson's comedy, "Every Man in his Humor," he was by far the better actor and did receive the plaudits of all; despite which he now receives but 6 shillings each week, while you are become a man of great wealth, having gotten, as he verily believes, as much as £100. from John Lyly: AT THE ELEPHANT & MAGPIE INN, LONDON, May 29, 1602. TO WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE: This is written to thee by John Lely, a clerk, in behalf of Nicholas Bottom, who useth not the pen, and who says to me to tell William Shakespeare, fie upon him that he did order the aforesaid Bottom to be locked out of the Globe Playhouse. Hath he forgotten the first play he, William Shakespeare, did ever write, to wit, "Pyramus and Thisbe," when a boy at Stratford, which was played by himself and Nicholas Bottom and Peter Quince and others, in a barn, for the delectation of the townsmen? and one from his wife, Anne, chastising him for his riotous London lifestyle: Item. He doth report that you do pass among men as a bachelor, and, with sundry players and men of that ilk, do frequent a house of entertainment kept by one Doll Tearsheet, and do kiss the barmaid and call her your sweetheart. Item. He doth also report that you did give to the daughter of the publican at whose house you do now abide, a ring of fine gold, and did also write to her a sonnet in praise of her eyebrows and her lips, and did otherwise wickedly disport with the said damsel. Item. He doth further report of you that you did visit, with one Ben Jonson, on the Sabbath- day, a place of disrepute, where were cock-fights and the baiting of a bear, and that with you were two brazen women, falsely called by you the wife and sister of Ben Jonson. Nag, nag, nag. No wonder she only got the second best bed. And no wonder he couldn't sleep. Ben Jonson probably beat the hell out of him for that last comment. To hear Anne tell a different tale (a quite bawdy one) of why she got the second best bed you can listen to Robert Nye's play, Mrs. Shakespeare on BBC7 (Listen Again option is good through Fri Sept 1). Comments Hope you enjoyed Shakespeare Week at The Bibliothecary. Prosit, Ed The Bibliothecary always welcomes Shakespearean comments. Friday, August 25, 2006 Some interesting Shakespeariana at Project Gutenberg:: Ever wonder about the Norwegian Shakespearean tradition? Wonder no more. Here's a 1917 dissertation by Martin Brown Rudd, An Essay Toward a History of Shakespeare in Norway, in which we learn Hamlet's "To be or not to be" soliloquy in Landsmaal, a literary language (based on "best" dialects), created by Ivar Aasen in the 19th Century: Te vera elder ei,—d'er da her spyrst um; um d'er meir heirlegt i sitt Brjost aa tola kvar Styng og Støyt av ein hardsøkjen Lagnad eld taka Vaapn imot eit Hav med Harmar, staa mot og slaa dei veg?—Te døy, te sova, alt fraa seg gjort,—og i ein Sømn te enda dan Hjarteverk, dei tusend timleg' Støytar, som Kjøt er Erving til, da var ein Ende rett storleg ynskjande. Te døy, te sova, ja sova, kanskje drøyma,—au, d'er Knuten. Fyr' i dan Daudesømn, kva Draum kann koma, 16 naar mid ha kastat av dei daudleg Bandi, da kann vel giv' oss Tankar; da er Sakji, som gjerer Useldom so lang i Livet: kven vilde tolt slikt Hogg og Haad i Tidi, slik sterk Manns Urett, stolt Manns Skamlaus Medferd, slik vanvyrd Elskhugs Harm, slik Rettarløysa, slikt Embæt's Ovmod, slik Tilbakaspenning, som tolug, verdug Mann fær av uverdug; kven vilde da, naar sjølv han kunde løysa seg med ein nakjen Odd? Kven bar dan Byrda so sveitt og stynjand i so leid ein Livnad, naar inkj'an ottast eitkvart etter Dauden, da uforfarne Land, som ingjen Ferdmann er komen atter fraa, da viller Viljen, da læt oss helder ha dan Naud, mid hava, en fly til onnor Naud, som er oss ukjend. So gjer Samviskan Slavar av oss alle, so bi dan fyrste, djerve, bjarte Viljen skjemd ut med blakke Strik av Ettertankjen og store Tiltak, som var Merg og Magt i, maa soleid snu seg um og strøyma ovugt og tapa Namn av Tiltak. I'd love to hear this. Especially because Rudd is so passionate about its beauty: This is a distinctly successful attempt—exact, fluent, poetic. Compare it with the Danish of Foersom and Lembcke, with the Swedish of Hagberg, or the new Norwegian "Riksmaal" translation, and Ivar Aasen's early Landsmaal version holds its own. It keeps the right tone. The dignity of the original is scarcely marred by a note of the colloquial. Scarcely marred! Which, of course, begs the question, is the goal of a translation merely to "scarcely mar" its original? Comments Perhaps Norwegian literary dialects are not to your taste? Then try Shakespeare and Precious Stones by George Frederick Kunz, which is about exactly what the title says, "Treating of the Known References of Precious Stones in Shakespeare's Works, with Comments as to the Origin of His Material, the Knowledge of the Poet Concerning Precious Stones, and References as to Where the Precious Stones of His Time Came from." How humankind was able to make it without this knowledge I'll never know, but thank god for Kunz who begins his study: So wide is the range of the immortal verse of Shakespeare, and so many and various are the subjects he touched upon and adorned with the magic beauty of his poetic imagery, that it will be of great interest to refer to the allusions to gems and precious stones in his plays and poems. These allusions are all given in the latter part of this volume. What can we learn from them of Shakespeare's knowledge of the source, quality, and use of these precious stones? And here's the complete list of precious stones mentioned in the plays of Shakespeare, not to be confused with the stones in the poems. Hamlet, this pearl is thine. Comments Prosit, Ed The Bibliothecary always welcomes readers' comments. |
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