Blind, in an orphanage run by nuns. A doctor examines them. Two girls, two nuns. Blond Henriette, brunette Louise. Later, two female victims that parallel them.
They escape at night and we find out that they are faking blindness (or, later, that they are only blind during the daytime). “The day is black but the night is blue.”
First night out they philosophize via long dialogues about their lives, deaths, and constant rebirth. People hunt them and they are always reborn. Melancholy about their future.
More lit when I purged my CDs. Beyond the pulp sci-fi were a few classics I’d never read but should have:
The Decameron, Beowulf, and The Canterbury Tales
The Decameron
First up: The Decameron. The edition I got is a translation by Mark Musa and Peter Bandanella, with 21 of the 100 stories (novelle) and essays spanning his contemporaries (seven, including three by Petrarca) and more modern ones dating from the 1700s to the 1970s and closing with a tight summary essay by the translators. The inclusion of the wide ranging essays was the primary reason I got this edition and sacrificed a copy with the entire Decameron. Quoting the preface:
The modern criticism includes a representative selection of past and current critical approaches to Boccaccio’s Decameron. Some essays reflect important historical interpretations (Ugo Foscolo and Francesco De Sanctis). Others illustrate particular critical methods–the philological (Auerbach), the philosophical (Scaglione), the formalist (Clements), the structuralist (Todorov), the rhetorical (Booth), the archetypal (Cottino-Jones), and the historical (Bergin).
While reading, I rewatched the light, fun indie film from 2017 called The Little Hours [ IMDB | Metacritic | Rotten Tomatoes ]. It takes a few of the stories from the book and combines them into a relatively continuous whole. The movie is set in the time the stories take place (mid 1300s) but it filters them through a modern prism. Recommended.
From one of the essays I learned that there’s another, more faithful movie version directed by Pasolini from 1971. I can’t find a good copy streaming online so I’ll probably purchase The Criterion Collection’s set called Trilogy of Life which includes The Decameron [ IMDB | Rotten Tomatoes ], The Canterbury Tales (perfect for when I read that next), and The Thousand and One Nights. (The latter I had failed to read fully a few years back from my Everyman’s Library edition titled The Arabian Nights, translated by Husain Haddawy.) The Pasolini trailer for The Decameron looks bonkers, and the 70s music is… something.
7 women, 3 men, open and close by the author, 10 days, 1 narrator per day, 10 stories each day
Opens with a detailed, grim description of the plague in Florence. Stories taken from classical sources, farce, fabliaux (fabliau/fabliaux/fablel/fable, obscene and humorous), Florentine gossip, anecdotes. Each day has a theme. Common with novella. Sometimes explicit theme, sometimes uncertain. Peril and wit, strife and good fortune, unhappy love, treasonous wives, etc. Villa as middle ground between the stifling city and the open country. Day 1 and 9 have no specific theme and act as bookends, day 10 deals with noble deeds and how man can be moral in a secular world.
(novella has more varied characters, locations, and social class than in fablels, the novella definition changes, short, “Unity and verbosity are mortal enemies.”)
Populated by all classes, ~338 characters, 83 women mentioned by name, >250 men, compare with Dante’s Comedy 50 years prior which had ~20 women and most were historical, not contemporary.
The Decameron is the human comedy cf. Dante’s The Divine Comedy
The Decameron is an accomplishment of such decor and vigor as to make the minor creative works seem anemic by comparison and to overshadow the pedantic virtues of the compendia
Also:
Dante closed one work and Boccaccio opened up a new one.
Placed between the High Middle Ages and the Renaissance. In the Middle Ages priest and knight were supreme, as was Christianity. This changed to the pragmatism of the merchant class. The story of the Jew and the duplicate rings he gave to his sons (I, 3) viewed as a metaphor for the equality of all Abrahamic religions was unthinkable prior. From a time of spirit to that of nature. Move from spiritual to earthly leaves behind the prior’s structure, Decameron is chaotic with different stories, no unity of style.
Depicting man’s passions and ingenuity over spiritual supremacy and devotion. Women cleverly flouting conventions for appearance and not being judged: hiding infidelity from their husbands, being kidnapped and having sex with multiple men but being presented as a virgin, being evil and lying but then saving another’s social standing. Saving appearance is a virtue. Noble woman is chastised by her father for having an affair with a commoner. Her reply: “we are all made of the same flesh.” Social leveling.
No donna angelica, untouchable. Sexual desire becomes acceptable as the beloved.
Boccaccio later wanted the book burned and was talked out of it by Petrarca. Boccaccio became a misogynist. Boccaccio’s change in styles throughout his life matched his change in cities and surroundings. Courtly to allegory to merchant class.
Writers at the time memorized stories like musicians memorize music.
Naturally skilled in grammar, educated by Giovanni, father of his friend Zanobi da Strada, Boccaccio’s father made him go into accounting (common in Florence) then the law.
Greek teacher Leonitus Pilatus from Thessaly, Petrarca learned from the monk Barlaamo from San Bacilio Cesariense.
Very poor most of his life, had to transcribe books, they later became part of a library.
4 works of lesser quality, ~1330s, exaltation of love
4 skilled written in Florence, 1340s, more allegorical
4 learned studies, reference for men of letters, 1350s, often revised, sometimes difficult to classify, essays, biographies of ancients and contemporaries
De Mulieribus Claris or De Claris Mulieribus (Concerning Famous Women, 1361-1362)
Other works:
Filocolo, book five was also a frame story told by young aristocrats, “written between 1335-36. It is considered to be the first novel of Italian literature written in prose. It is based on a very popular story of the time, Florio e Biancifiore.”
Eclogues
Ninfale
Teseida
The Love of Areita and Palemone
Fiametta
Ameto, frame story, Comedia delle ninfe fiorentine, 1341
Updated 25 Dec 2018 (movies)
Got the movies, realized they’re Blue-ray and I don’t have a Blue-ray player, purchased Blue-ray player.
Booklet and three movies
The Decameron was much better than I expected. The trailer was cheesy 70s escapades; the actual movie was beautiful, sometimes static, sometimes sweet. The film is constructed of stories from the book threaded together into somewhat of a whole. Though characters may not know each other, they exist in the same world and may pass each other in the street. In many of the stories, Pasolini expressively lingers on characters’ faces and expressions. There was much casual nudity that felt of the time (1300s). There’s an added story of Giotto painting a mural that was threaded though the actual stories taken from the book. His process of inspiration included some wonderfully framed shots of the city and the people populating it, and the ending with him was perfect.
Updated 24 Feb 2019 (notes on The Canterbury Tales)
I had heard of him tangentially but had never followed the leads until I saw several of his films on Shudder. French, stylized, a bit low-budget yet attractive. A good reference for Rollin’s films is DISCOVER–where to start with the films of Jean Rollin from IMDB. I went with three in the vampire series, minus his first feature “The Rape of the Vampire”:
My first visit to Vancouver and Canada proper from Fri 28 Sep to Mon 1 Oct for music shenanigans that changed before departure and became much weirder once the night of the concert arrived but could still be categorized as Shenanigans proper.
The trip was initiated on impulse when we saw that Childish Gambino was closing his last tour there qua Gambino. Tickets purchased, other tickets purchased, and hotel etc. However comma the week before our weekend there CG broke his foot during a performance and so cut the performance short and cut the Vancouver performance much, much shorter as in “canceled”. Make-up concert is the beginning of December IIRC, so we’ll probably be visiting again. Beautiful, fun city so no regrets.
Fri 28 Sep 2018
Drinks and snack at Cat Cora’s before departure, a tradition since some previous trip I don’t remember when, but do remember that said name sounded made up, and so was as good a choice as any for departure. Wine, cocktail, hummus, and chat with a 76-year-old who was visiting family and needed to get back home for work. Travelers are the best.
(Mid-flight, I glance at the video screen of one of the people in the seats in front of me, voyeurism we’re all guilty of, and see that Sen. Flake has made some ruckus in the senate Judiciary hearing. Everything since has gone to shit, but watching that 12th hour pause in the apocalypse was exuberant. (I’m sorry to even remember it now.).)
Stopover at SeaTac and more snacks at the Dungeoness Seafood House. The general environment has changed from South East to become Pacific Rim/Northwest. (Last Seattle trip was for the Peter Gabriel/Sting concert.) West coast, man. Current pulp sci-fi novel was left on the plane as we arrived in Vancouver and Lyfted it over to the Marriott Pinnacle.
The most holy of crabs, met the next day. He followed Lisa all the way from Louisiana.
Pause at the hotel bar for drinks before going out (over the weekend we had a stopover three times at that bar and the drinks were bad each time, ugh, if the hotel bar is not good I question the hotel). Still, we had a nice confirmation of dinner choices when the bartender recommended the restaurant we had already planned to go to: The Flying Pig in an area called Gastown (how Mad Max!). At Das Fliegende Schwein, waiting for our table, the hostess sent us across the street to the bar at The Lamplighter Public House. There, we chatted with a barfly incredulous at our Presidential Idiot. You and me buddy. Light dinner of shared squid and caprese was perfect.
Sat 29 Sep 2018
Day 2! Cold, light rain, and generally what you expect in the northwest. Sun would be good, but this weather fit the locale nicely.
Brutalist salmon hatchery seen in our park while walkin’
Locally-sourced late-breakfast/early-brunch at Forage–double fried pork sandwich, bison hash, scones for the next morning–to prepare us for our foraging in the wonderfully betreed Stanley Park. As we entered the park we saw one of many groups of people in various rope-based tree climbing competitions. We were promised coyotes and beavers (apparently nocturnally sleeping in their muddy pile of a beaver dam) but ultimately only saw ducks and squirrels and many dog-walkers. I had not dressed for the day, so in the gift shop planted in the middle of the park I picked up a woolen red plaid jacket with elbow patches (Professor Lumberjack!). Near the shop was a display of 8-or-so totem poles carved in the past decade by local artists, each telling the stories of various origins: the art of canoe-making given to local tribes by a water spirit (IIRC?), wolf god be-knighting a family, etc.
Land, sea, and sky
After an hour or so of wanderings around the many isolated park trails, we exited at the water to circle back to civilization and relax at the Cactus Club Cafe. Hot waitresses and a crazy chalkboard filled with inscrutable writings and drawings (ed. Lisa has a pic of the blackboard, need to get it to relive the mania). We continued our day of walking with a walk back through the city and its little neighborhoods: a distinctly asian area with shops and markets, quaint houses, and a Louisiana restaurant called The Holy Crab (see above) that had a crab with a halo as its logo. Eschewing po’ boys and jambalaya, we continued back to the waterfront for local beers and margarita pizza at the TAPshack. Late afternoon, the walk and the time change finally hit us, we had a power nap back at our room at the Pinnacle.
Snafu! from the TAPshack. What does it mean?!?
The evening’s major plans were a swanky dinner at the 11th best restaurant in all of Canada: Hawksworth. It’s also on West Georgia Street, so that’s nice. First stop on the way was the bar at the Fairmont hotel. It had great atmosphere and an excellent Manhattan and, even better, a female pianist who during her set did a loose cover of Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off”. On to some of Canada’s 11th best food! I had fretted over not having a nice-yet-casual sport jacket to wear but, though very nice inside, there was a healthy mix of styles from somewhat casual to some very trashy club dresses to proper swanky. Dinner was on fleek. We shared appetizer squid (again) in peanut sauce then a sliced ribeye, haricot vert, carrots, cauliflower gratin. Any steak I have in the future should be ashamed of itself because I think I blacked out from deliciousness.
Back to the hotel and an early end at around 11:30 because we are old.
Sun 30 Sep 2018
Rain rain rain.
This was the day of the Childish Gambino that was not to be but it was still filled with hi-jinx. First was a long walk to breakfast at Cacao 70 Eatery where, sadly, it wasn’t that good. You get a delicious little fruit and chocolate appetizer, and the waitress was soooo nice, but what followed the appetizer and the soooo nice waitress was just meh. Next, the dotted line of walking to the Contemporary Art Gallery took us by The Moose Garage which was a must stop dive bar situation. Very Vortex-like so we were right at home. A wall of old blown-out stereo speakers, be-stickered walls, and music from Donnie Darko (along with, oddly, some 80s hair metal). Coincidentally, the bartender grew up in Adalaide (though he says he would never go back) and we chatted about our recent trip to Sydney and Lisa’s frequent Australia work comings and goings.
Dove Allouche’s works: Petrographie RSM 5 and Surplomb 7, 8, and 9
The Contemporary Art Gallery was much smaller than expected, only two large rooms reminiscent of the The Contemporary Austin, but the featured artist, Dove Allouche, had some stunning pieces that, so complex in their preparation, process, and ultimate expression, I can hardly describe. My best attempt: he sometimes works with old, pre-1900s photographic techniques and, with them, photographs and post-processes molds that grow on paintings, cross-sections of millenia-old stalactites, pearls, and the Paris sewers, using crystals as lenses, crown glass (that I think he created?) as part of the frame, and added hand-drawn tones. The processes’ results were almost overfull with content. The other artist, Kameelah Janan Rasheed, was a tonic to Allouche’s density. She works with short, alliterative phrases that kindof break the words contained. Think Jenny Holzer or Barbara Kruger who, weirdly, I just saw referenced in BoJack Horseman season 2 episode 4.
Other, enumerated wanderings before the plan B concert (and that concert was… oh, jeez, I can’t even…):
Uva Wine and Cocktail Bar around the corner from the gallery. Our first quality wines of the trip, many local, paired with groovy French pop music. A nice British Columbia pinot noir.
Beat Street Records. We had a choice of I think a dozen record stores in the city, most near Gastown which seemed to be hipsville. The only near-purchase I had, I had unfortunately forgotten the name of the album and realized later that it was one of those that I looked at: Pete Rock and CL Smooth’s All Souled Out. Dammit. However, it is a pain flying back with vinyl so, hooray… question mark?
Stop off at the hotel bar across the street from our hotel, because we thought it looked cool but ultimately wasn’t, for some bad wine but delicious house made chips.
Dinner at Taishoken Ramen. Great choice! And five minutes after we sat down as one of maybe three other patrons, it completely filled up and people started lining up out the door. We’re trend-setters. Neat.
One thing Lisa spotted when researching where to go before before our plan B concert (again, oh jeez…) was the Vancouver International Film Festival. Dozens and dozens of films to choose from, I don’t know how we picked what we picked but it was amazing: a Singapore film by the Singaporean director Siew Hua Yeo called A Land Imagined. Generally it was about Chinese guest/slave laborers that come to Singapore to work construction and disappear under suspicious circumstances. A sleep-deprived detective follows the immigrant underground in an attempt to solve the cases. The unifying theme, in a somewhat magic-realist story, was The Ephemeral. Workers without a home and without respect as human beings, land being created that seems to exist outside of any country, sleeplessness, homelessness, lack of self. 5/5. And as if echoing the film, we saw it in a multistoried mall that, like most malls you can think of, was at its end of days.
We chose DPR Live based on the fact alone that he’s a Korean rapper. Could be weird; could be fun. I expected maybe a club scene letting the beat drop and having a unique DJ behind him with maybe some odd, Southeast Asian sampling. Instead with DPR (which stands for I am not kidding you: Dream Perfect Regime) we got a teenybopper, ahem, chigga. Think of him as a Korean Justin Bieber (who’s a Canadian. huh). Thinking that he was going to start fashionably late and that the opener would run late, and not that the audience would be 14- and 15-year olds out on a school nite, we arrived to see only the last three songs. Mercifully. The look on the bartender’s face when we arrived and grabbed beers was classic. A worse night he could not have had.
Still, interesting is interesting and we definitely got interesting.
Post “concert” was across the street at the Cinema Public House which, it was assured, there would be no DPRats. Cool scene, man. A very bar bar with cute waitresses that hung with the best snark I could muster and the soundtrack was old school hip hop that was cool but made me more angry at my missed opportunity with the Pete Rock and the CL Smooth and the fact that they were All Souled Out. Still, good bar, yo. Post hip hop was DJ High Toones with some good cuts. And throughout were Temples of Dooms on like seven or eight TVs. Consistency is a virtue.
The end.
Mon 1 Oct 2018
But not.
Flight home but not too early and the reverse layover at SeaTac landed us in The Africa Lounge for drinks and snacks and talks with bar neighbors I don’t specifically remember. The vacation end was not all depressing like most vacation ends are and I credit Canada.
A month or so ago I got a subscription to the horror movie channel Shudder. We saved money by Cutting the Cable Cord, but now are approaching the same budget by a-la-carting so many other streaming providers (“The tragedy of your times my young friends is that you may get exactly what you want.”). I subscribed to Shudder out of genuine interest in horror and indie horror, and the fact that it was only $5/month made me more pliable. Streaming services take note: $10/month seems to be the standard price so $5/month is an irresistible target. Go for the long tail.
From Female Vampire: Lina Romay as Countess Irina Karlstein
I dove into a few Jess Franco films back in November 2015 and I still value them for their inventive variety (he’s done ~160 films!): the three films I watched were of such wildly different styles that they were effectively from different directors. His film Female Vampire introduced me to the pre-Bram Stoker vampire story Carmilla (1871) and all of it’s variations since then. Daughter of Dracula is connected to that literary lineage, also known as the Karnstein/Karlstein vampire myth, and includes the Franco films along with Hammer films and an LGBT web series (see also this wonderful THE KARNSTEIN TIMELINE collection of all media Karnstein-related). They are all part of a larger style of lesbian vampire stories.
Although Daughter of Dracula was filmed in Lisbon (cf. Female Vampire filmed in moody and beautiful Madeira), I did not recognize the city that we had visited. Living in Midtown Atlanta I should know the radical differences that 40 years can impose on a city.
From Daughter of Dracula: Franco, Anne Libert, and Carmen Yazalde as Luisa Karlstein
Daughter of Dracula has the softcore porn aspect of many of Franco’s films. The opening scene includes a woman, full frontal preparing for a bath, and the camera more than lingers. Other scenes I-kid-you-not dramatically zoom in to 1970s-era unshaven et ceteras. Whether this was titillating back then I’m not sure but it is incredibly non-sexual today. During one “lesbian” scene there was such an invasive soundtrack referencing show tunes, comedic, and dance styles, that the extended breast licking was completely unbelievable. And, yes, I typed “extended.”
Daughter of Dracula differed from the previous vampire film of his that I watched, Female Vampire. That one was more static and moody, expressing the lead’s curse more with lingering camera shots and frequent foggy, daytime scenes. Daughter of Dracula felt more conventional. Said daughter learns about her heritage as the local police attempt to solve a series of recent murders. Both films are worth a watch and would be good as a double-feature. Are you listening, Plaza Theatre?
