I've seen things you people wouldn't believe ...

A cold, rainy Friday night in Sydney.  Exactly what you need to justify Blade Runner: The Director's Cut for the god-knowns how many time and a couple of pizzas, delivered in 45 minutes.

Beloved part 1

First of two classes on Toni Morrison's Beloved. I said it is one of the finest novels I've ever read; a truly great work of fiction, which is a very rare thing indeed. Dr Morrison did not disagree. Some in the class talked a bit about the movie version, which I've not seen. It's hard to imagine Oprah Winfrey carrying off the Sethe character but Fiona M reckons she does a decent enough job but that Thandie Newtone is somewhat less than spectacular as Beloved. I'm surprised by both.

At the end of my class we received our second essay marks ... 17.5 out of 20 for my piece on Pride And Prejudice. That's the high distinction I was aiming for. All I need to do now is keep up that standard, improving on it if I can.
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Beloved

Finished it. Truly wonderful writing. It has to be one of the finest novels I've read and genuinely an important one too (and it's not often that that can be said with justification).

What can one say? Read it.

Here's what the much-maligned Wikipedia has to say on the novel.

These are some surprisingly perceptive Sparks Notes on the book.

And this is a link to Toni Morrison discussing her novel on the BBC Radio World Service Book Club.

I love this story from the New York Times:

SULLIVAN’S ISLAND, S.C. — Toni Morrison has said that her acclaimed novel “Beloved,” which features the ghost of a baby killed by her enslaved black mother, came out of the need for a literature to commemorate slaves and their history. “There is no suitable memorial, or plaque, or wreath or wall, or park or skyscraper lobby,” Ms. Morrison said in a 1989 magazine interview. “There’s no 300-foot tower, there’s no small bench by the road.”

This weekend, on Sullivan’s Island, off the South Carolina coast, Ms. Morrison, the Nobel laureate, and some 300 people held a memorial ceremony to dedicate her long-awaited “bench by the road.” (read the rest)

(Photograph by Anne McQuary for The New York Times)
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Necessary noise ... part 15

Stardust

We watched the DVD of the movie. Much better than I feared it would be. Claire Danes wasn't too bad at all, although I have no idea what Robert De Niro was up to.

Later Spike introduced me to Dexter Fletcher as Spike in Press Gang, neither of which were known to me (not even after discovering he had played Baby Face in Bugsy).

Dis poetry

Dis poetry is like a riddim dat drops
De tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shots
Dis poetry is designed fe rantin
Dance hall style, big mouth chanting,
Dis poetry nar put yu to sleep
Preaching follow me
Like yu is blind sheep,
Dis poetry is not Party Political
Not designed fe dose who are critical.
Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bed
It gets into me dreadlocks
It lingers around me head
Dis poetry goes wid me as I pedal me bike
I've tried Shakespeare, respect due dere
But did is de stuff I like.

Dis poetry is not afraid of going ina book
Still dis poetry need ears fe hear an eyes fe hav a look
Dis poetry is Verbal Riddim, no big words involved
An if I hav a problem de riddim gets it solved,
I've tried to be more romantic, it does nu good for me
So I tek a Reggae Riddim an build me poetry,
I could try be more personal
But you've heard it all before,
Pages of written words not needed
Brain has many words in store,
Yu could call dis poetry Dub Ranting
De tongue plays a beat
De body starts skanking,
Dis poetry is quick an childish
Dis poetry is fe de wise an foolish,
Anybody can do it fe free,
Dis poetry is fe yu an me,
Don't stretch yu imagination
Dis poetry is fe de good of de Nation,
Chant,
In de morning
I chant
In de night
I chant
In de darkness
An under de spotlight,
I pass thru University
I pass thru Sociology
An den I got a dread degree
In Dreadfull Ghettology.

Dis poetry stays wid me when I run or walk
An when I am talking to meself in poetry I talk,
Dis poetry is wid me,
Below me an above,
Dis poetry's from inside me
It goes to yu
WID LUV.

Benjamin Zephaniah

Necessary noise ... part 14

Three of the best hours of music, words and performance you could imagine: Leonard Cohen and his brilliant band under a late summer's stunning sunset and night sky at Pokolbin in the NSW Hunter Valley. He surpassed all my hopes and expectations.

Photos by Spike.









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Gifts from a friend

Way to go Paula, way to go ...

"There's a relief in the falling apart, isn't there? I used to walk up Madison Avenue, and girls really were buying $1,500 purses just because Madonna had one. The purse thing. It had gotten insane. But then, the world is insane. I can't begin to fathom other people. All I can do is keep my own bullshit meter intact. You have to make a concerted effort to keep yourself alive, to be able to feel pain, to stop yourself from getting distanced from things by technology. Some 250,000 protestors walked up Broadway to protest the war in Iraq, and the next day it wasn't in the papers. But will that stop me from marching next time? No, I will be counted."

The Guardian interviews the magnificent Debra Winger

Love lift us up where we belong ... irresistable
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