viernes, 3 de febrero de 2012

Bolaño + los estridentistas

 Germán List Arzubide, Ramón Alva de la Canal, Manuel Maples Arce, Leopoldo Méndez, and Arqueles Vela, Mexico, 1925.

I never really knew much about the journalistic works I'm about to talk about before making an exciting discovery at the library late last night, but I can now personally attest to the fact that the young Roberto Bolaño produced two super-interesting pieces on los estridentistas [the Stridentists] for the Mexican lit & arts mag Plural in 1976.  Given all the wonderful discussions about The Savage Detectives that have taken place since last weekend's group read of the novel (see my post aquí and/or Rise's post here for links to the various participants' thought-provoking takes on the work), I thought I'd contribute a summary of the two Bolaño articles here as they are fascinating both for the window onto the future novelist's literary sensibilities they display and as possible blueprints for the oral history-like middle section of The Savage Detectives itself.  Fun stuff.
*
Bolaño's "El estridentismo" ["Stridentism"], for some reason listed as "Los Estridentistas" ["The Stridentists"] in the magazine's table of contents, appears in Plural #61 (October 1976) on pages 48-50.  In terms of its relation to the later writing of The Savage Detectives, it doesn't look like much at first: a one-page illustration with the beginning of the MANIFIESTO ESTRIDENTISTA, a second page by Bolaño discussing the movement and its origins in the era of the Mexican Revolution, and a third page dedicated to the conclusion of the Stridentist Manifesto.  However, even a cursory look at the 23-year old Bolaño's text reveals some striking similarities to The Savage Detectives' preoccupation with the French and the Mexican avant-garde.  "Yo no pienso, yo muerdo" ["I don't think, I bite"], it begins.  "Para Alain Jouffroy, el artista de vanguardia es el primero en arriesgarse, el primero en tirarse al agua...  Para Alain Jouffroy, y en esto se toca con los situacionistas, el artista de vanguardia es el que, por sobre todo, subvierte la cotidianidad, transformando y transformándose" ["For Alain Jouffroy, the avant-garde artist is the first to expose himself to danger, the first to throw himself into the water...  For Alain Jouffroy, and in this he's connected to the Situationists, the avant-garde artist is the one who, above all else, subverts the day to day, transforming it and transforming himself"] (49, ellipses added).  From this starting point in the just-post student protest present, Bolaño moves back in time to look at the "very heroic spirit" necessary to create a new poetry in the Mexico of 1921-1928, the fictional Cesárea Tinajero's heyday.  Singling out Maples Arce's Andamios Interiores [Interior Scaffolding] and Poemas Interdictos [Banned Poems], List Arzubide's Esquina [Corner], and Luis Quintanilla's Avión [Plane] as "dancing stars" for their ability to help readers "comenzar a ver de una manera diferente la tradición de la poesía mexicana" ["to begin to see the tradition of Mexican poetry in a new light"], he then concludes: "Los estridentistas no pudieron sostener esas barricadas ácidas de la nueva poesía, pero nos enseñaron más de una cosa sobre los adoquines" ["The Stridentists weren't able to maintain those acid barricades of the new poetry, but they showed us more than a thing or two about the building blocks"] (Ibid.).  After a republication of the humorous 1923 Stridentist Manifesto that follows ("Ser estridentista es ser hombre.  Sólo los eunucos no estarán con nosotros.  Apagaremos el sol de un sombrerazo" ["Being a stridentist is being a man.  Only the eunuchs won't be with us.  We'll turn out the lights on the sun with a big giant blow from our sombreros"]) (50), a note at the end of the piece declares that interviews with original Stridentists Arqueles Vela, Manuel Maples Arce, and Germán List Arzubide (all mentioned by name in The Savage Detectives) will follow in the next edition of Plural. For those who didn't want to wait, though, a round of Richard Brautigan poems translated into Spanish by Mario Santiago (Bolaño's friend and the model for Ulises Lima) could be found on the next few pages.
**
The promised interviews with the three now-elderly writers appear on pages 48-60 of Plural #62 (November 1976) under the title "Tres estridentistas en 1976" ["Three Stridentists in 1976"].  Full-page contemporary photos of each of the subjects accompany the work, which is broken down into three separate interviews with a short introduction for each segment penned by Bolaño.  The opening intro could almost be a dress rehearsal for a description from The Part about Fate from 2666:  "Si Maples Arce a veces me recuerda físicamente a Floyd Paterson y List Arzubide a Sonny Liston, Arqueles da la impresión de un Kid Azteca posando demasiado, demasiado sereno en un rincón eléctrico del ring" ["If Maples Arce sometimes physically reminds me of Floyd Patterson and List Arzubides of Sonny Liston, Arqueles gives the impression of a Kid Azteca posing far, far too serenely in an electric corner of the ring"] (49).  That being said, if one were merely to remove the mini-introductions and the interviewers' questions from the text (NB: as in the 1998 novel, the flesh and blood interviewer sports company at times!), it wouldn't take any great leap of the imagination to see these testimonies as kindred spirits to the "interview fragments" found in The Savage Detectives some twenty years later.  Here, for example, is a Quim Font-style half-crackpot pronouncement from Arqueles Vela (1899-1978) on the subject of his 1922 novella, La Señorita Etcétera [Señorita Etc.]: "Quiere decir que yo, sin conocer todas las renovaciones que hacía el gran creador de Ulises, y guardando las desproporciones repito, porque es un monstruo el Ulises de Joyce, y mi novela es un microbio, es el principio de lo que puede ser un animal antediluviano y antidiluviano, de antes del diluvio y en contra del diluvio..." ["By which I mean to say that, without knowing about all the transformations that the great creator of Ulysses was realizing, and--I repeat--aware of the distance between what Joyce and I achieved, because Joyce's Ulysses is a monster and my novel is a microbe, it's the beginning of what might be an antediluvian and antidiluvian animal, that is before the flood and against the flood..."] (50).  Did I say Quim Font?  Maybe the mezcal Los Suicidas-loving Amadeo Salvatierra character might be more like it; at the very least, it's interesting to note that the Spanish language version of Wikipedia lists Vela's full name as Arqueles Vela Salvatierra, which is quite a coincidence if nothing else.  Stridentist founding father Manuel Maples Arce (1898-1981) is the next in line to be interviewed, and here's where the connections between Bolaño's 1970s journalistic work and his 1990s fiction are at their most intertextually juicy.  As you'll recall, one "Manuel Maples Arce" has a speaking role in the oral history section of The Savage Detectives where he subjects himself to an interview by questionnaire but shuns being recorded by the four visceral realists in attendance because he claims that tape recorders bother him the same way that mirrors bothered Borges.  The foul-mouthed Barbara Patterson curses Maples Arce to hell and back in the following monologue fragment, calling him "Mr. Great Poet of the Pleistocene" in one of her milder sarcastic moments (178, in the Spanish edition).  In the Plural interview, the real Stridentist sounds remarkably like what you'd expect based on his fictional double--only nicer and totally undeserving of the Patterson scorn! Bolaño, calmly explaining the set-up to the interview: "Lo que aquí aparece son sus respuestas a un cuestionario que redactamos en su casa, ante su negativa de que pusiéramos a funcionar nuestra flamante  grabadora" ["What appears here are his answers to a questionnaire that we drew up in his house when faced with his refusal to let us turn on our brand-new tape recorder"] (54).  The fictionalized Maples Arce from The Savage Detectives: "Las preguntas típicas de un joven entusiasta e ignorante" ["The typical questions of an enthusiastic and ignorant young man"] (177).  The Savage Detectives' Barbara Patterson, raging that she noticed Maples Arce's "bad faith" from the outset: "Y pasó lo que pasa siempre.  Borges.  John Dos Passos.  Un vómito como al descuido empapando el pelo de Bárbara Patterson" ["And what happened is what always happens.  Borges.  John Dos Passos.  Nonchalantly throwing up all over Barbara Patterson's hair"] (Ibid.)  Bolaño in the Plural intro: "Hicimos la verdadera entrevista bebiendo un café turco que nos invitó, escuchándolo contar anécdotas bellísimas; mirando sus cuadros" ["We did the real interview drinking Turkish coffee that he offered to us, listening to him tell the most beautiful anecdotes, looking at his paintings"] (54).  Although the real life Maples Arce does mention Borges a couple of times, the only possible hint of what could have riled up a Barbara Patterson type is the Bolaño-like namedropping the gracious host indulges in when asked a question about Stridentism's ties with Ultraism and other Spanish-American avant-garde movements: "Con todas las publicaciones de alguna significación en América teníamos canje.  Envíabamos y recibíamos libros de todas partes, a veces con expresiones significativas.  Recuerdos de esta fraternidad tengo con Alberto Hidalgo, Jorge Luis Borges, Oliverio Girondo, Miguel Angel Asturias, Pablo Neruda, Angel Cruchaga Santa María, Luis Cardoza y Aragón, Jorge Carrerra Andrade, Salvador Reyes, César Vallejo, Mariano Brull, Salomón de la Selva, Eugenio Florit, Jorge Zalamea, José María González de Mendoza, etcétera" ["We had an exchange system with all the significant publications in the Americas.  We used to send and receive books from everywhere, sometimes with significant dedications.  I have memories of this brotherhood with Alberto Hidalgo, Jorge Luis Borges, Oliverio Girondo, Miguel Angel Asturias, Pablo Neruda, Angel Cruchaga Santa María, Luis Cardoza y Aragón, Jorge Carrerra Andrade, Salvador Reyes, César Vallejo, Mariano Brull, Salomón de la Selva, Eugenio Florit, Jorge Zalamea, José María González de Mendoza, etc."] (56).  I realize I probably didn't need to type all those names out twice, but it has recently come to my attention that almost all readers of The Savage Detectives really love a good list of authors!  The third Stridentist interviewed by Bolaño in 1976 was Germán List Arzubide (1898-1998), a real revolutionary considering he's said to have fought alongside Emiliano Zapata.  List Arzubide spends a good chunk of his interview time talking about the street fights and the altercations that Stridentist manifestos provoked among the establishment literati, but in one of my favorite quotes by him the then seventy-something professional agitator says something that could have come straight out of Arturo Belano's or Ulises Lima's mouth: "Habría que ver lo que se dijo aquí sobre el estridentismo," he begins.  "Dos historias de la literatura mexicana existen, la de Jiménez Rueda y este otro, no me acuerdo su nombre, en donde se va una incomprensión absoluta"  ["You'd have to see what was said about Stridentism here.  Two histories of Mexican literature exist, Jiménez Rueda's version and this other guy's, I can't remember his name, in which there's a complete lack of understanding"].  "No puede entrarles de ninguna manera el movimiento estridentista.  Para ellos es una gritería de muchachos que se divierten molestando a la gente.  No pudieron entender lo que es en realidad la ansia de crear una vida nueva dentro de la poesía.  Se necesita tener un espíritu heroico para, por encima de todas esas cosas; seguir trabajando" ["The Stridentist movement couldn't enter into the history books in any way, shape or form.  For them it's just a commotion among guys who get off provoking people.  They couldn't possibly understand what in reality is the anxiety to create a new life within poetry.  You need to have a heroic spirit, above and beyond all these things, just to keep on working"] (60).

Roberto Bolaño

miércoles, 1 de febrero de 2012

February Foreign Film Festival and World Cinema Series Links

Wong Kar-wai

Thanks to everybody who's already contributed movie reviews to either my Foreign Film Festival or Caroline's World Cinema Series.  I'll try to finish updating January's list sometime this weekend since I've already fallen behind, but links to posts about foreign films watched or written about in February will be collected at this post here throughout the month.  Just leave a comment below or at Caroline's blog if you'd like to let us know about a film review of yours.  Cheers!

February Foreign Film Reviews

miércoles, 25 de enero de 2012

Los detectives salvajes

Los detectives salvajes (Anagrama, 2006)
por Roberto Bolaño
España, 1998

Al haber leído tantas novelas maravillosas desde que la primera vez que leí Los detectives salvajes, me alegro decirles que el mamotreto de 1998 de Bolaño siga siendo impresionante la segunda vez.  De hecho, joder, debo decirlo más claramente: esto libro me hace indeciblemente feliz. Estructuralmente algo de una "novela puzzle" en la tradición de vanguardia de Rayuela de Cortázar y de La vida instrucciones de uso de Perec, la obra se abre y se acaba con la historia del poeta adolescente hiperactivo Juan García Madero y de su iniciación en el llamado movimiento real visceralista en México a mediados de los setenta.  Más tarde, el argumento abarca veinte años y pasa por múltiples continentes siguiendo la pista de Arturo Belano y Ulises Lima (ellos mismos obsesionados con la búsqueda de una poeta mexicana vanguardista de los años 20 que se llama Cesárea Tinajero), los líderes de los real visceralistas además de ser vagos y vendedores de drogas y poètes maudits latinoamericanos, como el movimiento se desintegra.  A través de una manera de narrar que es asombrosa y, de vez en cuando, incluso sumamente exuberante por parte de Bolaño--en particular, el uso de una multiplicidad de más que 50 narradores que comparten sus diarios íntimos, historias orales, y monólogos en un mosaico de noventaiocho fragmentos de primera persona (¡que Thomas Bernhard supere a eso!)--un rayo x del alma de una generación de jovenes latinoamericanos perdidos eventualmente emerge de la nube de vapor.  Algunos aspectos notables personales.  El humor. Con la excepción posible de La literatura nazi en América, esto tiene que ser lo más definitivamente chistoso de todos los libros de Bolaño a pesar del horror que también se nota.  ¡La mera idea de una revista de literatura que se llama Lee Harvey Oswald!  La oración borracha de Ernesto San Epifano sobre la literatura heterosexual, homosexual y bisexual  ("Las novelas, generalmente, eran heterosexuales, la poesía, en cambio, era absolutamente homosexual, los cuentos, deduzco, eran bisexuales, aunque esto no lo dijo" [83]).  La manera distintivamente mexicana de un grupo de amigos de decir "ya basta" a un tipo que está exagerando la historia de una conquista sexual:  "-No te la prolongues -dijo Pancho.  -No le pongas tanta crema a sus tacos -dijo el hermano" (70).  El lenguaje y la oralidad.  Además de cómo Bolaño resuelve los problemas de la interioridad y de la perspectiva de sus personajes con la proliferación de narradores  --algunos, como Carlos Monsiváis y Michel Bulteau, escritores vivos con caras públicas conocidas  --no menos impresionante es la atención prestada al habla de la "vida real" y a la poesía de las pláticas cotidianas.  Los mexicanos, por ejemplo, hablan con el abanico completo de útiles palabrotes nacionales como hijo de la chingada, pinche, pendejo, mamón, naco y buey mientras que los argentinos y los uruguayos se diferencian por el uso de pibes en vez de chicos, etcéra.  En general, supongo, me gusta escuchar el diálogo de los personajes y también me gusta rendirse a una experiencia cuentística en cual un teenager puede describir a los poetas mexicanos como "mis futuros colegas' y en cual un duelo de sables entre un novelista y un crítico literario puede parecer como lo más natural de todo debido a las otras tragicomedias bajo consideración.  En resumen, un cóctel molotov de la ternura y la desesperación.  ¡Órale!  (http://www.anagrama-ed.es/)

The Savage Detectives (Picador, 2008)
by Roberto Bolaño [translated from the Spanish by Natasha Wimmer]
Spain, 1998

Having read so many other wonderful novels since the first time I tore through The Savage Detectives, I'm happy to note that Bolaño's 1998 chunkster still impresses the second time around.  In fact, fuck it, let me make that more clear: this book slays me.  Structurally something of a "puzzle novel" in the envelope-pushing tradition of Cortázar's Hopscotch and Perec's Life A User's Manual, the work opens and closes with hyper teenage poet Juan García Madero's account of his initiation into the so-called visceral realism poetry movement in mid-1970s Mexico City before spanning twenty years and criss-crossing multiple continents following in the footsteps of visceral realist leaders/lowlifes/small-time drug dealers/Lat Am poètes maudits Arturo Belano and Ulises Lima--themselves hot on the trail of a vanished avant-garde Mexican poet from the 1920s named Cesárea Tinajero--as and after the movement implodes.  Through ace, often wildly exuberant storytelling on Bolaño's part--in particular, the use of a multiplicity of upwards of  fifty narrators who share their diary entries, oral histories, and monologues in a mosaic composed of ninety-eight distinct first-person fragments (top that, Thomas Bernhard!)--an x-ray of the soul of a lost generation of Latin American youth eventually emerges from the haze.  Some personal highlights.  Humor.  With the possible exception of Nazi Literature in the Americas, this has got to be the most laugh out loud funny of all Bolaño's books by far despite the desperation that's also present.  I mean, c'mon, the very idea of a litmag called Lee Harvey Oswald! Ernesto San Epifanio's drunken three-page rant on heterosexual, homosexual, and bisexual literature ("Novels, in general, were heterosexual, whereas poetry was completely homosexual; I guess short stories were bisexual, although he didn't say so" [80, in Natasha Wimmer's translation]). The distinctively Mexican way a group of immature young friends razz the guy who's laying it on too thick during the recounting of a sexual conquest:  "-No te la prolongues -dijo Pancho.  -No le pongas tanta crema a tus tacos -dijo su hermano" ["'Don't overdo it,' said Pancho.  'Don't put so much cream on your tacos,' said his brother"] (73, in my rendering of the Spanish original; Wimmer presents this exchange on page 69 of her translation as "'Spare us,' said Pancho" and "'Cut the crap,' said his brother," which conveys the essence of the colloquial dialogue but doesn't do justice to the second brother's culinary witticism).  Language and orality.  In addition to how Bolaño resolves the problems of interiority and POV with the profusion of narrators here--some, like Carlos Monsiváis and Michel Bulteau, living writers with established public personas at that--no less impressive is the attention paid to "real-life" speech patterns and the poetry of everyday chatter.  The Mexicans, for example, use the full panoply of national curse words like hijo de la chingadapinche, pendejo, mamónnaco and buey for insults; the Argentineans and Uruguayans speak in terms of pibes in place of chicos for boys and kids, etc. (would that I knew how Wimmer handles all these regionalisms).  Mostly, I guess, I just like listening to the way Bolaño's characters talk and the act of surrendering myself to a storytelling experience in which a teenager who can refer to dead Mexican poets as "my future colleagues" and a swordfight between a novelist and a critic on a beach can seem like the most natural things in the world amid all the other tragicomedies on display.  In short, a Molotov cocktail of tenderness and despair.  ¡Órale!  (http://www.picadorusa.com/)


Savage (and non-savage) Readers
Rise of in lieu of a field guide
Amanda of Simpler Pastimes
Amateur Reader (Tom) #1, #2, #3, #4 and #5 of Wuthering Expectations
Bellezza of Dolce Bellezza
Bettina of Liburuak
Caroline of Beauty Is a Sleeping Cat
Gavin of Page247
Jeremy #1, #2, and #3 of READIN (more to come!)
Nicole #1, #2, #3 , and #4 of bibliographing
Sarah of A Rat in the Book Pile
Sarah of what we have here is a failure to communicate
Scott of seraillon
Séamus #1 and #2 of Vapour Trails
Selena of luxe hours

domingo, 15 de enero de 2012

January Foreign Film Festival and World Cinema Series Links

Irène Jacob in Trois Couleurs: Rouge

I'll try and put up one of these link collection posts earlier in the month from here on out, but in the meantime here's a page where you can submit January foreign film reviews to either my Foreign Film Festival or Caroline's World Cinema Series.  While it'd be great if you could notify both of us whenever you have a film to add to the two lists, in all likelihood that won't be necessary since we'll probably be raiding each other's lists to make sure all reviews submitted for at least one of the events are accounted for on both anyway.  In any event, please let me know if you don't want your links added here for some reason.  Otherwise, I look forward to seeing which movies have caught your attention this month (note that I will probably list the movies alphabetically by title rather than by country since Caroline and I are defining "foreign film" status in slightly different ways for each event).  Cheers!

Comment and connectivity problems?  It's been brought to my attention that at least three readers have had problems viewing this blog and/or leaving comments here of late, and I've run into similar problem accessing the comments and links at times when using Internet Explorer as my browser.  Until this problem gets resolved, please consider using Firefox or another non-IE browser to view the blog.  I'll try to tweak some of the security settings for comments as well, but I'm very hesitant to do that since some anonymous spammers seem to have discovered the blog after several years of my own anonymity.  Sorry for any technical difficulties you might have encountered.  Edit 1/17: I've decided to disable the threaded comments until Blogger can resolve the problems with its IE interface.  Back to the drawing board, I guess, what a nuisance...


January Foreign Film Reviews
  • Alamak...Toyol!  (dir. Ismail Bob Hasim, Malaysia, 2011; reviewer: Nekoneko)
  • Bar "El Chino" (dir. Daniel Burak, Argentina, 2004; reviewer: me)
  • Bicycle Thieves [Ladri de biciclette] (dir. Vittorio De Sica, Italy, 1948; reviewer: Séamus)
  • Caramel [Sukkar banat] (dir. Nadine Labaki, Lebanon, 2007; reviewer: Caroline)
  • Cell 211 [Celda 211] (dir. Daniel Monzón, Spain, 2009; reviewer: TBM)
  • C'est la Vie [La Baule-les-Pins] (dir. Diane Kurys, France, 1990; reviewer: Guy Savage)
  • Cuadecuc/Vampir (dir. Pere Portabella, Spain, 1970; reviewer: Obooki)
  • Drive (dir. Nicolas Winding Refn, USA, 2011; reviewer: Caroline)
  • Everlasting Moments [Maria Larssons eviga ögonblick] (dir. Jan Troell, Sweden, 2008; reviewer: Caroline)
  • The Fox Family [Gumiho gajok] (dir. Hyung-gon Lee, South Korea, 2006; reviewer: Obooki)
    • The Guard (dir. John Michael McDonagh, Ireland, 2011; reviewer: Sarah)
  • Protektor (dir. Marek Najbrt, Czech Republic, 2009; reviewer: Guy Savage)
  • Shaapit: The Cursed (dir. Vikram Bhatt, India, 2010; reviewer: Nekoneko)
  • Shine, Shine, My Star [Gori, Gori, Moya Zvezda] (dir. Alexander Mitta, USSR, 1969; reviewer: Guy Savage)
  • Sleepwalker 3D (dir. Oxide Pang, China, 2011; reviewer: Nekoneko)
  • Soul Kitchen (dir. John Michael McDonagh, Germany, 2009; reviewer: Sarah)
  • Szindbád (dir. Zoltán Huszárik, Hungary, 1971; reviewer: Dwight)
  • Torpedo Bombers [Torpedonostsy] (dir. Semyon Aranovich, USSR, 1983; reviewer: Guy Savage)

viernes, 13 de enero de 2012

Bar "El Chino"

Bar "El Chino" (2004 DVD)
Directed by Daniel Burak
Argentina, 2003
In Spanish with English subtitles

My Argentinophile tendencies notwithstanding,  I'm not sure I would have even wanted to see this movie had I been forced to rely on my own capsule summary for guidance and inspiration.  Good thing somebody else recommended the film to me first!  Martina, a 20-something TV editor, and Jorge, a 40-something independent filmmaker, serendipitously meet at the colorful Bar "El Chino" one night and shortly thereafter decide to combine forces on a low-budget documentary about the historic but down-at-the-heels neighborhood tango bar of the title.  A romantic relationship between the unlikely pair somewhat predictably ensues, only to be suddenly interrupted by Argentina's 2001 economic meltdown.  Is a job overseas worth giving up being happy at home? Whatever you make of the premise, I'm happy to note that this humble little slice of life is way more satisfying and soulful than it sounds.  Leads Jimena La Torre and Boy Olmi have a winning, believable chemistry as the tentative coworkers turned lovebirds, director Daniel Burak takes full advantage of the quasi-documentary nature of the film by including lots of low-fi audio and visual goodness spliced with interviews with fans and performers of the real-life Bar "El Chino," and the ramshackle neighborhood of Pompeya--about as far off the tourist Buenos Aires map as they come despite being one of the birthplaces of tango back in the days of Gardel--emerges as the cultural ground zero for a surprisingly affecting discussion about immigration and emigration, the past and modernity, and how we try and reconcile such forces through the arts.  Not at all the slight romantic comedy that I had feared--or at least it doesn't feel like such a thing when set to the strains of that mournful bandoneón.  (www.venevisionintl.com)

Jorge Eduardo Garcés ("El Chino")
holding court in front of his famous boliche

Movie Mania
After announcing a year-long "foreign film festival" in the previous post, I found out that Caroline of Beauty Is a Sleeping Cat is also offering her own World Cinema Series moviefest this year.  Please see Caroline's page here for details and please consider participating in both events throughout the year to get your full-on foreign film fix.

miércoles, 11 de enero de 2012

Caravana de recuerdos Foreign Film Festival

Maggie Cheung in Olivier Assayas' Irma Vep
(France, 1996)

Since I hope to work in some occasional movie-related posting here again this year after giving up on that a while back, I thought I'd invite anybody who wants to join me for some movie talk to participate in the first ever Caravana de recuerdos Foreign Film Festival in 2012.  Participation is easy, and there are no stupid challenge rules to worry about since this isn't a challenge!  You merely a) watch and review one or more foreign films this year and then let me know about it so I can link to your post(s) in a monthly round-up; or b) ignore the invitation altogether.  Easy, right?  The fine print: For those who want to play along, a film's "foreign" status should be determined by comparing the director's country of origin or residence with your own country of origin or residence (i.e. no Jean-Pierre Melville flicks for the French or Tarantino flicks for Americans; Raúl Ruiz's outstanding Mistérios de Lisboa can count as either a Chilean or a French but not a Portuguese work based on where the director was born and lived).  The extra fine print: If any of you would like to "challenge" me to watch one particular film of your choosing at some point during the year, I'll watch it and blog about it as long as a) you're willing to do the same at some mutually agreeable time; and b) I can get a hold of it from my library or through some other source that won't break the bank.  This challenge film can be foreign or domestic (your choice) and is only being offered as a participation option--not without some trepidation--as a cinematic tip of the hat to Amateur Reader's infamous so-called "Scottish rules" as set down here.  In any event, thanks to both Caroline and Stu for helping me rethink my avoidance of movie reviews of late (whether they realized it or not).  Coming soon:  a post on a film from Argentina.

lunes, 2 de enero de 2012

Man vs. TBR: Pseudoreality Prevails

Man vs. TBR #1/12

While I don't anticipate any further bending of the rules from here on out, I've already "revisited" my ridiculous, self-imposed Man vs. TBR book-buying reduction pledge from last month and am now shooting for a grand total of no more than twelve book purchases for the entire year.  OK, so I'm obviously willing to cheat to succeed--but what was the first book purchased?  NYU history professor Karen Ordahl Kupperman's The Jamestown Project in e-book format, a New Year's Day transaction I practically "had" to make to test drive a certain shiny new gadget that found its way into the house earlier in the day.  In non-cheating news, I also wanted to remind everybody that the group read of Roberto Bolaño's The Savage Detectives that many of us have been looking forward to for quite some time now is finally due to take place during the last weekend of the month.  For more details and/or a look at the list of others who'll be participating, you can check out group read co-host Rise's post here or my post here.  Hope you're able to join in on the fun!


Thanks to Jenny Volvoski for allowing us to borrow her cool cover design for The Savage Detectives group read (use of this image as a badge has been approved by the artist).  Other rad covers as imagined by Jenny can be found at her art blog From Cover to Cover.