SPECTRE vs. Spectre

Number One (Blofeld) and his Persian feline friend, From Russia with Love (1963) 

Before getting into the SPECTRE milieu, let me weigh in on the possibility of a black James Bond. Of course James Bond can be black -- simply tweak the backstory and bring us into the 21st century. Yes, Idris Elba, David Oyelowo or any number of other black actors could play Bond. As for Daniel Craig's run as 007, he's done a good job and seems close to Ian Fleming's conception of his character in the early novels. 

Regardless of who plays Bond, the earlier films to date are much more interesting to me. Why? Because of the writing, and the greater complexity of worldview. The first batches of James Bond films were more layered and enduring, like The Iliad. The latest, including the new Spectre (2015), are written much more like Scooby-Doo Where are You!  The main reason for this oversimplification in the newer ones, the great narrowing in number and variety and scope of characters, is undoubtedly financial: by make the SPECTRE organization a vague and fairly generic international crime syndicate that does not include real world animosities or historical backdrop, it can be sold anywhere from the USA to China and all over the globe without offense. As an investment strategy, this generic approach works -- Spectre is on track to rake in the equivalent of more than one billion dollars worldwide at the box office by the end of 2015. 

Claudine Auger -- Domino in Thunderball -- as Athena/Minerva (1960)*

As for The Iliad angle, one can imagine 007 (as played by Sean Connery, say, or George Lazenby), being plucked from lethal situations by the last-minute intervention of the goddess Athena, or encouraged to sleep with a beautiful enemy through the wiles of the goddess Aphrodite, or punished by one of the same goddesses for some arrogant slight on Bond's part (as in the loss of his wife in On Her Majesty's Secret Service). In the newer story lines, how does Bond escape sure death? Who knows? For there is no sense of wonder, or magic . . . just simple-minded writing. We are supposed to believe that Blofeld's entire animus toward Bond is due to his father's affection for the orphan boy Bond when they were kids. In the previous film, former 00 agent Raoul Silva (Javier Bardem) was supposed to carry an identical hatred toward Bond because of a Freudian conflict regarding their mutual surrogate mother and boss, M (Judi Dench). Pitiful. What works in a Sergio Leone film does not work in a Bond film.

In the earlier Bond films, there is a sense of a greater, interlocking world with numerous conflicts going on, any number of which may blow up at any time. SPECTRE (Special Executive for Counter-intelligence,Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion) exploits Cold War tensions and other historical animosities. One catches glimpses of old and new conflicts, ones involving Turks vs. Bulgarians, Greeks, Russians, Koreans, Germans, British, Americans, Chinese and various organized crime syndicates. It's a big world, complex, and nationalism is treated in a tongue in cheek way. James Bond notes as much when he quips to "Bond girls" he's sleeping with: "What I did this evening was for Queen and country" (Thunderball) and, "The things I do for England" (You Only Live Twice). Any number of seemingly patriotic nationalists are, in fact, mercenaries, willing to do anything for money, power or revenge. These are valuable lessons for living in the world. One must always be on guard as to actual intent.

Besides the international intrigue and possibility, there's technology and its impact. This is a constant theme throughout the entire series -- including the limits of technology. (I'll write more about this, the importance of theme music and the mystique of hotel rooms at some point).

In the earlier films, I like the way they typically culminate in special forces assaults on a villain's castle, or secret lair. Bond is merely the frontman for larger backup forces. Again, in the new Spectre, there's none of that -- just the little Scooby-Doo band of oddballs working in conjunction with 007. And man, where is Oddjob (Harold Sakata) when you need a truly memorable assassin to contend with?

As of this posting, the closest thing to the spirit and range of the earlier run of James Bond films may be CNN's Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown (2013-present). Bourdain is like a real James Bond for the here and now, a cultural explorer who carries himself with grit, humor, curiosity, and an intrepid nature. Rather than a license to kill, he has a license to travel, drink, sample various cuisines, and engage with people of different backgrounds and histories, all the while making a serious effort to understand both historical context and future possibilities. And so the circle is complete -- Bourdain, Anthony, vs. SPECTRE-like chaos. Can you dig?

*In Jean Cocteau's Le testament d'Orphée, ou ne me demandez pas pourquoi! (1960). 

Today's Rune: Wholeness.     

Tim Burton: Big Eyes (2014)

Starting in the late 1950s and proceeding into the 1960s in California, Tim Burton's Big Eyes delivers on two levels: specifically as a finely crafted "milieu film," and more generally as an intelligent musing about art, artists, provenance, impact -- and gender.  Off the wall, I'm reminded of Miloš Forman's 1984 adaptation of Amadeus, the 1979 Peter Shaffer play about classical musicians Mozart and Salieri. Art and promotion, ego and taste, talent and ambition: it's all there. In Big Eyes also, the ghost of Andy Warhol hovers throughout. True story. 

Kitsch, art -- either way, waifs with big eyes caught the popular imagination fifty to sixty odd years ago. Like physical height, big eyes are hard to resist. 

Amy Adams and Christoph Waltz play the leads. As Margaret Keane (aka Peggy Hawkins), Adams has the more difficult, more nuanced role, complicit in her husband's flashy showmanship; but Waltz's character (Walter Keane) has an inferiority-superiority complex, an alcohol-fueled "Jekyll and Hyde" personality, giving him some complexity to work with, too. Both are great -- as is the rest of the cast. 

My two favorite scenes may be the following: Margaret first entering "the club" to see what Walter is up to -- bathed in what looks like infrared light -- stunning on the big screen; and her shopping in a meticulously recreated supermarket, (apparently) hallucinating, seeing "big eyes" on other shoppers and workers, eerie moments right out of a surreal Jean Cocteau film or The Twilight Zone. Right on! 

Overall, Big Eyes is not too heavy, not too light. I dig!

Today's Rune: Possessions. 

Jean-Pierre Melville: Les enfants terribles (Take II)

Again while trying to absorb Jean-Pierre Melville (and Jean Cocteau's) Les enfants terribles (1950), live events keep rolling in. Today's big Supreme Court rulings in the USA were victories for the legitmacy of gay marriages, including recognition of federal benefits. This is a touchstone issue around the world and will certainly circulate in due time around the other states here. Overall, these rulings and similar developments represent a big shift since a time-marking event as recent as the 2004 presidential election, when so-and-so's pastor told people not to vote for John Kerry because he wouldn't stifle gay rights. A Pyrrhic victory for social conservatives, it turns out. One of many such in hindsight, I suspect.  

Michigan Daily, October 15, 1975

In any case, Les enfants terribles is a peculiar movie (based on the equally peculiar Cocteau novel), definitely memorable in part because it's so weird and different from more "typical" fare. It does remind me of a few other works, but of each in a different way. It utilizes classical music akin to how Stanley Kubrick later did in completing A Clockwork Orange (1971), for instance. It has social relationships in the same emotional realm as found in Flannery O'Connor's Wise Blood (1952) -- which is cool, because she may have seen the film at the time; certainly, given her interest in French literature, she would have been aware of the 1929 Cocteau novel. And there's a thematic connection taken up by Bernardo Bertolucci (Last Tango in Paris, Little Buddha) in The Dreamers (2003), a film also set in Paris, only updated to revolutionary year 1968. All in all for these comparisons and on its own merits, it's worth an extended look.

   
The image here reminds me off the top of my head of Ingmar Bergman's Det sjunde inseglet / The Seventh Seal (1957), Roman Polanski's Rosemary's Baby (1968) and Clint Eastwood's Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (1997). What do you think?

Today's Rune: The Mystery Rune.

   

Jean-Pierre Melville: Les enfants terribles (Take I)

Just began Jean-Pierre Melville's 1950 film adaption of Jean Cocteau's Les enfants terribles (1929). It is immediately bizarre, starting with a snowball fight. A young man is struck in the chest with a snowball. He seems to take it like a gunshot wound and is soon bedridden and eerily cared for her by his sister. 

Meanwhile, momentous live events from 2013 have impinged upon the scene. Big snowball fights all around, and many people taking them for gunshots. The Voting Rights Act, today undercut by a conservative majority of the US Supreme Court, opens a Pandora's Box to "States' Rats" blustering and voter suppression. And in Texas, Wendy Davis leads a Democratic filibuster in the Legislature to run out the clock on repressive Republican-designed anti-abortion legislation.

Tomorrow, another big time ruling of the Supreme Court.

Not a good time for the docile and apathetic! Quite an exciting time for the engaged and energetic!

Today's Rune: Flow.

Les dames du Bois de Boulogne

Robert Bresson's Les dames du Bois de Boulogne (1945) provides a study in manners at the tail end of the Second World War.  It's worthwhile not so much because of the stakes involved, which seem paltry when set against global catastrophe, but because of the memorably stylized performance by María Casares as Hélène, a scorned woman with the wherewithal to exact fiery revenge -- like a barrage of Congreve rockets fired at a dried out wooden ship. Her target: the feckless Jean (Paul Bernard). The trap: Agnès (Elina Labourdette), a wartime prostitute who is more or less pimped out by her mother, a woman of former country wealth now decimated but aiming to survive.

 

We've seen this sort of scenario dozens of times, though other renditions tend to add outright murder into the mix. I like the fact that this one doesn't -- it becomes more interesting, more caught in a time zone of its own.   

Jean Cocteau worked with Bresson to adapt Les dames du Bois de Boulogne  from a section of Dennis Diderot's 18th century novel Jacques le fataliste et son maître. Ultimately, though, María Casares steals the show with her fierce persona.   

Today's Rune: Journey. 

Luchino Visconti: Le Notti Bianche / White Nights

Luchino Visconti's Le notti bianche / White Nights (1957), based on Fyodor Dostoyevsky's 1849 story of the same name (albeit literally Белые ночи), seems simple but serves as a sort of microcosm for humankind. There are dreams and there is surface reality. There are traditional ways of life and there are modern ways. There are things that seem eternal and things that change. 

The storyline is unexpectedly enhanced through black and white film, and by the physical setting -- a simulacrum or replica of a small handful of Italian urban spaces, exteriors and interiors -- recreated in a film studio in Roma. The effect is surreal, but the story feels real. 

The set-up is simple. New Dude comes to town for work and is seeking social interaction. Comes across a Distraught Woman at night, and they create a connection. Turns out she lives with her grandmother, an older woman who lets out room space in their abode to short-term boarders. About a year before this moment, the Mysterious Man was one such boarder. He became enamored of Distraught Woman, and she of him. The Mysterious Man (perhaps a writer) said he'd return in a year, but had to leave -- without explanation. New Dude has come across Distraught Woman as she waits for The Return of the Mysterious Man. Over the next few nights, New Dude wooes Distraught Woman, drawing her from traditional living into modern living. But will he succeed completely? There are other elements and contrasts, too, ranging from live opera vs. early jukebox rock and roll, letters and notes and books vs. Esso and petrol, snow vs. electric lights. And there's a prostitute ("world's oldest profession," very traditional) and random folks, some of the old world, some of the new. 

With New Dude (Mario) played by Marcello Mastroianni and Distraught Woman (Natalia) by Maria Schell (sister of Maximilian Schell), La notti bianche works beautifully. (Note: Mysterious Man -- Jean Marais -- appears elsewhere as Jean Cocteau's Orpheus.)        

Today's Rune: Possessions.

Age of Surrealism

I aim to maintain a library of about 500 books -- "3D" books. Ebooks are another virtual matter altogether.

Here's one of the 500. Wallace Fowlie's Age of Surealism (The Swallow Press and William Morrow & Company, 1950).

Why do I keep this one? It's interesting in its own right, but I knew Professor Fowlie (1908-1998) in the 1980s and 1990s. He was still teaching at Duke University in Durham, North Carolina, when I first spoke with him, after a lecture at the Durham Public Library.

The good professor was gregarious and open-minded. He knew or had known many people, a variety ranging from students and former students to veteran writers and artists (including Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin). He was particularly well versed in French culture. Age of Surrealism continues to speak. I'm still learning about its main topics, most lately through Jean Cocteau's works.

From the Table of Contets:

ORIGINS
LAUTRÉAMONT: the temperament
RIMBAUD: the doctrine
MALLARMÉ: the myth (Hérodiade)
APPOLLINAIRE: the poet
BRETON: the manifestoes
COCTEAU: the theatre
ELUARD: the doctrine on love
PICASSO: the art
CONCLUSIONS

All in all, Age of Surrealism continues to inspire curiosity; that plus having known the author is why this book remains one of "the 500." 

Today's Rune: Fertility.

Jean Cocteau: The Testament of Orpheus, or Don't Ask Me Why! Take Two

The Criterion Collection of Jean Cocteau's Orphic Trilogy set includes, on the same disc as Jean Cocteau's Le testament d'Orphée, ou ne me demandez pas pourquoi! (1960), a 16mm short (a little over half an hour long) made in 1952, in color: La Villa Santo Sospir (Côte d'Azur). Both films further Cocteau's statement that "film is an admirable vehicle for poetry." Pablo Picasso having "gone through all the doors" of the villa, Cocteau "tattoos" them with his own artwork, line frescoes using fresh milk as one ingredient, and colorful paintings behind curtains, as well. Picasso actually appears in the 1960 film as a grieving friend of Orpheus/The Poet, with a small Spanish-tinged entourage.

It appears that Cocteau was unafraid of trying any type of art -- everything ranging from poetry to theatre, silent film vibe to fiction, nonfiction to drawing, painting to cinema, and sometimes an eclectic blending together of all these elements. 

Still from a scene in Le testament d'Orphée, ou ne me demandez pas pourquoi! Here, having summoned Cocteau/The Poet, Pallas Athena (aka Minerva)* prepares to throw a spear at him. Oh, don't ask why!

Today's Rune: Initiation. *In the guise of future "Bond Girl" Claudine Auger (b. 1941).   

Jean Cocteau: Le testament d'Orphée, ou ne me demandez pas pourquoi! Take One

Jean Cocteau's Le testament d'Orphée, ou ne me demandez pas pourquoi!* (1960) is the final installment of his "Orphic Trilogy." Essentially, Orpheus is a stand-in for all poets and artists, and Testament of Orpheus is a gently irreverent look back, forward and every which way. As such, it's not quite as coherent as Orpheus (1950), but is still interesting to consider. One thread of this mostly black-and-white film sees "the Scientist" appearing and disappearing almost as much as "the Poet," Cocteau himself, who seems to arrive from 1770 into 1959, at first thinking it's actually the year 2209. In another scene, a tribunal consisting of the Princess/apparent avatar of death (María Casares) and Heurtebise (François Périer), with Underworld poet-guide Cégeste (Edouard Dermithe) as a witness, questions Cocteau and also the Scientist. The first three are characters from the 1950 Orpheus, now ten years older -- a bit trippy in their own right. "Where we are now there is no 'here.'" So it is noted. Also: "We are nowhere."

Above is pictured the fame-machine, or art-culture and commerce nexus. The Scientist has already noted this of the Poet: "I'd say he was a poet and therefore indispensible -- though to what, I'm not sure." Coming across the ticket-streaming phantasm, Cocteau quips to Cégeste, "Fame for anyone in a minute or two," or perhaps it's "Fame for anyone *for* a minute or a two." The connection to Andy Warhol pretty much leaps out at you when you think about it -- the "fifteen minutes" quip, "officially" dating from 1968, in Stockholm, Sweden: "In the future everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes."  So it should not be too surprising to learn that Warhol (1928-1987) created a series of prints depicting Cocteau (1889-1963), or that he clearly liked Cocteau's work and persona. Yet few people seem to have highlighted the connection, from what I can tell so far, at least in the wider culture.

Today's Rune: Partnership.  *The Testament of Orpheus, or Don't Ask Me Why!
   

Jean Cocteau's Orphée / Orpheus: Take Three

Jean Cocteau's Orphée / Orpheus (1950) continues to creep into my thoughts and imagination. Early yesterday morning, one scene was transposed into a dream, a waxing moon pushing me out into REM sleep of some kind or another. In the dream, I was escaping a big storm or flood by canvas-covered military truck but later found myself detained and isolated in a room full of Scientologists. They would not allow me to leave or make calls. Eventually, I escaped and ran to freedom -- and woke up with the chills.

In Cocteau's film, there's a lot to delve into. One major strand gets into the "War of the Poets," rivalries of style and substance. There's also a split beteen the idea of being "a writer" and "a poet." Are they different entities, or overlapping?

Then there's the contested essence of art and aesthetics through publication. One minor exchange between an older writer and Orpheus the poet:

She's* not from here, but she needs to be among us. Here's her review.
Every page is blank!
It's called Nudism.
It's absurd.
Less absurd than if it were full of absurd writing.
No excess is absurd!

*The "Princess" (Maria Casarès, pictured above), an apparent agent or avatar of Death. In "real life," one of Casarès' paramours was no less a luminary than Albert Camus.

Juliette Gréco (pictured above) as Bohemian Aglaonice (Aglaonike in Greek), enemy of Orpheus and leader of the Bacchantes (or Maneads in Greek). In this particular Cocteau variant on the Orpheus myth, Eurydice is Aglaonice's friend and a former Bacchante herself, drawn into domesticity by Orpheus, who is now more absorbed than ever in the mysteries of creativity and art -- at times, to the point of sometimes comical neglect of everything else. What's remarkable about Aglaonike's character is how much more cagily she'd fit in today, in 2012, than in 1950, when Orphée / Orpheus was first released. In addition, there was a "real" Aglaonike, a noted astronomer/astrologer of her time (second century B.C., some 2100-2200 years ago) in Thessaly, Greece, one of the so-called "Witches of Thessaly." Watch out, more strange dreams may ensue . . .

Today's Rune: Journey.
           

Jean Cocteau's Orphée / Orpheus: Take Two

What are some key technological elements and devices of Jean Cocteau's Orphée / Orpheus (1950)? 

First, there are mirrors. Mirrors open into the Underworld, the Interzone, the street corridors on the way to Hades. Mirrors are the human ego, time and an opening into realms behind or beyond time. "Mirrors: we watch ourselves grow old in mirrors. They bring us closer to death."*

*(Cocteau, quoted here: http://www.criterion.com/current/posts/13-orpheus)

Then there are cars and motocycles. Two motorcyclist Myrmidons serve as escorts, guards and assassins. Perhaps they represent the Fates, chance, the interference of supernatural forces, mortality.

Third, there are radios and telephones, and a special radio in an automobile. These convey signals ranging from the mundane to the supernatural, from basic communication to artistic inspiration, carrying strange coded messages from the Muses.

Fourth is light, used to illuminate spooky faces and contrasts. The dark, lack of mirrored reflection, silhouettes and a power outage used to effect during the time Orpheus may not look upon Eurydice after she's retrieved from the Underworld. It's all right in the dark, but don't look back in the light. . .

Today's Rune: Signals.     

Jean Cocteau's Orphée / Orpheus: Take One

If you've ever seen even one episode of the original Twilight Zone (1959-1964), One Step Beyond (1959-1961) or Outer Limits (1963-1965) series, you won't be freaked out by Jean Cocteau's Orphée / Orpheus (1950). It's sort of like them, but with better production values, a longer, more involved story and a ten-year lead time. Stars: Jean Marais (Orphée/Orpheus), Marie Déa (Eurydice), María Casares (The Princess/an apparent incarnation or avatar of Death), François Périer (Heurtebise) and Edouard Dermithe (poet Jacques Cégeste). The Criterion Collection delivers an excellent quality version of this film on DVD.  

"Among the misconceptions which have been written about Orphée, I still see Heurtebise described as an angel and the Princess [María Casares, pictured above] as Death. . . In the film, there is no Death and no angel . . . Heurtebise is a young Death serving in one of the numerous sub-orders of Death, and the Princess is no more Death than an air hostess is an angel." -- Jean Cocteau

See: http://www.criterion.com/current/posts/13-orpheus

This is a fun and cool movie, for sure. I'm adding Orphée / Orpheus to my list of favorites and will post more about it soon. 

Today's Rune: Initiation.   

Edgardo Cozarinsky’s Jean Cocteau: Autoportrait d'un inconnu / Autobiography of an Unknown

Edgardo Cozarinsky’s Jean Cocteau: Autoportrait d'un inconnu / Autobiography of an Unknown (1983, 1984, 1985) is packed with sharp observations about arcs and artists, movers and shakers, social networks and human foibles. Loved it, in bits and pieces. The main focus is Jean Cocteau (1889-1963), or rather the world from Cocteau's perspective. There are stories and recollections about his running buddies of various times and places. There's Pablo Picasso (1881-1973) and Gertrude Stein (1874-1946), for instance. Cocteau refers not to Picasso's "Blue" or "Classical-Surrealist" period but rather to when Picasso had hair on his head vs. his bald period. A more personal angle, that is.

Cocteau waxes enthusiastically about the life and times of the Ballets Russes (Russian Ballets) and all the crazily attendant energies connecting various artists and musicians to it, including folks like Sergei Diaghilev (1873-1929) and Vaslav Nijinsky (ca. 1889-1950). Let's not forget Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971). The funny thing is, all of these people were considered at least somewhat controversial in the first part of the twentieth century.

Throughout much of the documenary Cocteau warmly personalizes things. When recalling Erik Satie (1866-1925) and Claude Debussy (1862-1918), he remembers how these two dudes expressly hated fellow musician Joseph-Maurice Ravel (1875-1937), and how Satie, to rile up Debussy, sang Ravel's praises. It worked -- Dubussy went into a rage about how horrible Ravel was to music and life.

Argentinian director Edgardo Cozarinsky (born 1939) is (as of 2012) -- as Cocteau was for most of his life -- a multi-genre artist in his own right. In this documentary he lets Cocteau do his thing, ranging from walking to talking and writing or drawing while listening to Charlie Parker (1920-1955), one of his jazz muses. I liked it.  

Today's Rune: Signals.  

Jean Cocteau: Le Sang d'un poète / The Blood of a Poet

                                                                                                                                              

A nifty little film, less than an hour long: Jean Cocteau's Le Sang d'un poète / Le sang d'un poète* / The Blood of a Poet (1930; premiered in France in 1932). I checked out the Criterion Collection version because it restores six minutes as a sort of "director's cut." *(In some cases, Sang [blood] is in caps for emphasis, but in others, not.)

Le Sang d'un poète employs an eclectic mix of techniques, making it a hybrid sound-and-silent film, theatre, visual art, mythlike, dreamlike, and, by all but official name, surreal. What we see on the screen is poetry in motion from a poet's imagination, and a poetic response to external stimuli. As a backdrop, there's the myth of Orpheus and his lyre -- again.   

                                                                                                                                                       

The film gives us a rare glimpse of Lee Miller (1907-1977) in motion, albeit fairly slow motion. (Indeed, in a few of the more lagging silent parts of the film that didn't include Miller in the frame, I felt free to speed the tempo up to 2012 levels). You can see here why she was treated as a Muse by Man Ray, yet also understand why she would move on from that role, too. Within fifteen years, she'd become an accomplished photographer and war correspondent, and at the end of World War II would be in Munich sitting in one of Hitler's abandoned bathtubs for a superbly iconic shot. In Le Sang d'un poète, she plays an armless statue and a mysterious card player, among other things. Costumes for the film were designed by Coco Chanel (1883-1971).

                                                                                                                                                          

Also of note is a Guardian Angel played by Féral Benga (1906–1957) of Dakar, Senegal, a stylized Mexican firing squad and a peephole into "the mystery of China" that involves opium. There is a reclining hermaphrodite in one room, a man in drag on a balcony in the center of a cluster of aristocratic types, and also a kid wrapped in what appears to be chains who flies up to a ceiling to escape harrassment and stays there, making faces.

 

There are statues that come to life, a passageway through a looking glass mirror (above), a demanding mouth in one of the poet's hands (much to his horror), hurled snowballs, what appears to be a silver cylinder flying through a room (think David Lynch), painted masks, glowing eyes, moving pictures and a cow apparently decorated with maps being led by Lee Miller. And that's not all, folks!

Today's Rune: Partnership.   

Lee Miller: Through the Mirror

"She worked hard for her luck." So observes, aptly, Lee Miller's fellow photographer and running buddy David Scherman in Sylvain Roumette's Lee Miller: Through the Looking Glass (1995). This documentary, running less than an hour, left me wanting to learn much more even than I'd previously read about Miller (1907-1977), who worked at both ends of a camera and with the likes of Man Ray, Pablo Picasso and Jean Cocteau, as well as, during the Second World War, Scherman. During her stint as a war photojournalist, she took shots in and around Dachau and Munich in 1945, and was photographed by Scherman in Hitler's abandoned bathtub as the Third Reich collapsed. 

Fascinating film, thanks in large part to the interest, preservation efforts and observations of Anthony Penrose, Lee Miller's and Roland Penrose's son. 

Here's where to go to see much more -- the Lee Miller Archives: http://www.leemiller.co.uk/

Today's Rune: Harvest.  

Jean Cocteau: Diary of an Unknown

Jean Cocteau (1889-1963) never did stay glued to one particular genre, though "poésie" permeated prominently, in films, plays, opera, photography, nonfiction, you name it.

I've been carrying around this damned book for years. Saved it. For reading. I read it. Finally.

The book? Jean Cocteau's Diary of an Unknown / Journal d'un inconnu (1953, 1988, 1991*) translated by Jesse Browner.

*(Which means I've had it in the reading pipeline since living in Philadelphia. Since the Gulf War of 1991. How many wars ago was that? How many decades, centuries?)

Here's a little snippet: "Poetry is a religion without hope. The poet exhausts himself in its service, knowing that, in the long run, a masterpiece is nothing but the performance of a trained dog on very shaky ground" (page 9).

And another: "I find it remarkable that we can have any sort of communication with others. For they perceive only those parts of us that correspond to their level [and vice versa]" (page 121).

"If the contents of our memory were able to materialize and roam about, they would clutter up the entire world" (page 149).

"It is likely that nothing has an ending or a beginning" (page 170).

Today's Rune: Harvest.

The World War One Ambulance Driver

Me as World War One ambulance driver, Justice, Illinois (about twenty miles southwest of Chicago). The printed date shows MAY 1968, but the original snapshot was more likely taken in 1966 or 1967.

WWI was very much in the Zeitgeist: It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, the one featuring Snoopy as flying ace vs. the Red Baron, premiered on October 27, 1966. (Yes, there is a first time for everything!)

In any case, I was in good company. Among actual Great War ambulance drivers and attendants were writers, artists and musicians of all kinds. For example: Erwin Blumenfeld, René Clair; Jean Cocteau; Malcom Cowley; e.e. cummings; Kati Nino Dadeshkeliani; John Dos Passos; Dorothy Canfied Fisher; Dashiell Hammett; Ernest Hemingway; Robert Hillyer; Sidney Howard; John Howard Lawson; Arhibald MacLeish; Somerset Maugham; Maurice Ravel; Albert Roussel; Robert W. Service; Olaf Stapledon; Gertrude Stein and Hugh Walpole. Good way to participate in the action without full commitment to nationalism and war -- especially if you're only about six years old.

Today's Rune: Joy.

Shaken, Not Stirred

So far, so good, 007.


Shaken, not stirred. Sean Connery as James Bond.


Occasionally stirred, not shaken. Mr. Bond has his ways.


Badass Angelina Jolie.


Badass Christina Ricci.


Badass Clint Eastwood.

I suspect Angelina Jolie can do whatever she likes whenever she wants. Well, good for her.

Today's Rune: Initiation.

Birthdays: Sylvester Graham, Phineas T. Barnum, Cecil Rhodes, Jean Maurice Eugène Clément Cocteau, Frederick Lewis Allen, Marcel Achard (Marcel-Auguste Ferréol), Georges Jean Raymond Pompidou, Warren Oates, Katherine Helmond, Shirley Knight, Huey Lewis (b. Hugh Anthony Cregg III), Michael Monarch, Edie Falco, Marina Dias, Eva Gaëlle Green.


Badass Diana Rigg.

Dig it, man!