numa extensa mostra no Centro Cultural de Cascais, entrada livre todos os dias menos à segunda-feira. eu e um casal com filhos, esta manhã de engarrafamento nos espaços comerciais. Utopias Urbanas. muito admiro este homem-voador.
o blogue de Laura Afonso, aqui.
o site de Nadir Afonso, aqui.
no facebook.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Nadir Afonso
Saturday, October 30, 2010
festival das imagens em movimento
não conheço o Thomas the Obscure the Maurice Blanchot, apenas o velho Jude, um amor trágico nos favoritos. no Museu do Chiado está Gary Hill que é possível ver daqui, no Vimeo.
Incidence of Catastrophe, 1987-88, de Gary Hill.
há dias
em que gosto de me reler num pequeno gesto narcísico.
e há dias em que julgo que foi tudo uma tentativa de ver por outros olhos (os outros sapatos) e que vi. no Gatsby dediquei-me a marcar com um círculo todas as palavras eyes. depois fui marcando os verbos ligados --stare glare. estamos sós como diz o António e assim todo o decorrer do tempo é tentando ser outra pessoa, se por segundos. (dali até às palavras conotadas com vazio --empty vacant). o coração do que me move.
"A Silver Dish", Saul Bellow
"What do you do about death—in this case, the death of an old father? If you’re a modern person, sixty years of age, and a man who’s been around, like Woody Selbst, what do you do? Take this matter of mourning, and take it against a contemporary background. How, against a contemporary background, do you mourn an octogenarian father, nearly blind, his heart enlarged, his lungs filling with fluid, who creeps, stumbles, gives off the odors, the moldiness or gassiness of old men. I mean! As Woody put it, be realistic. Think what times these are. The papers daily give it to you—the Lufthansa pilot in Aden is described by the hostages on his knees, begging the Palestinian terrorists not to execute him, but they shoot him through the head. Later they themselves are killed. And still others shoot others, or shoot themselves. That’s what you read in the press, see on the tube, mention at dinner. We know now what goes daily through the whole of the human community, like a global death-peristalsis."
o resto, aqui, no The New Yorker.
Friday, October 29, 2010
and again,
the American dream: "A century later, Benjamin Franklin added to this ethic the idea of a disciplined life. In his posthumous AUTOBIOGRAPHY (1818), he revealed his boyhood program for personal advancement from utmost poverty to personal stature: a highly regimented day devoted to self-improvement through study, hard work, and the cultivation of social qualities. His outline quickly became the paradigm for social progress for millions of Americans, and in the 20th century F. Scott Fitzgerald used it anew in THE GREAT GATSBY (1925) as the protagonist's program for rising in the world." gostei da lista, é verdade.
"F. Scott Fitzgerald, (1896-1940), was the leading writer of America's Jazz Age, the Roaring Twenties, and one of its glittering heroes." (daqui)
ignorando
os tumultos e os circos pechisbeque da política, Mário Crespo abre o seu jornal com um livro e o seu autor. ali ficam meia hora. acho que sim.
wonder
«And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors' eyes - a fresh, green breast of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby's house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity of wonder.
And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy's dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch our arms farther... And one fine morning---
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.»
no final de The Great Gatsby.
que prazer ler este livro, que comemoração de qualquer coisa indefinida.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
on the subject: The Great American Dreamer
que o já agora é sempre o mais caro. numa longa linha de dreamers.
Catholic. St. Paul, a cidade-gémea.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Jay Gatsby
"It is reasonable to assert that Jay Gatsby was the major literary character of the United States in the twentieth century. No single figure created by Faulkner or Hemingway, or by our principle dramatists, was as central a presence in our national mythology as Gatsby. There are few living Americans, of whatever gender, race, ethnic origin, or social class, who do not have at least a little touch of Gatsby in them. Whatever the American Dream has become, its truest contemporary representative remains jay Gatsby, at once a gangster and a Romantic idealist, and above all a victim of his own High Romantic, Keatsian dream of love. Like his creator, Scott Fitzgerald, Gatsby is the American hero of romance, a vulnerable quester whose fate has the aesthetic dignity of the romance mode at its strongest. Gatsby is neither pathetic nor tragic, because as a quester he meets his appropriate fate, which is to die still lacking in the knowledge that would destroy the spell of his enchantment. His death preserves his greatness, and justifies the title of his story, a title that is anything but ironic."
Harold Bloom em Jay Gatsby, here.
inward transactions
a pensar se leio Dangling Man ou não.
"To hell with that!", logo a seguir. [Afinal acabou por ser Henderson]
- -
"It made no difference to me. Dishonesty in a woman is a thing you never blame deeply."
não escrevi a data mas a edição é de 80. alguns sublinhados, de várias cores, que me indicam o percurso do meu próprio pensamento naquela altura. como li e onde fui aproximar o que lia. citações de Bergson, T.S. Eliot e D. H. Lawrence. não estava mal.
"on the edge of the waste land"
"He snatched the book from me and replaced it hastily on its shelf, muttering that if one brick was removed the whole library was liable to collapse." F. Scott Fitzgerald no The Great Gatsby. somehow os anos de ponte entre uma leitura e esta, os anos de ser assombrada pelos óculos vazios do Doctor T. J. Eckleburg na página 23 , as luzes brancas no posto da gasolina à noite (em tantas imagens, e ultimamente Ed Ruscha), a acção cinematográfica do mecânico a desaparecer cinzento, o olhar fotográfico de uma festa e dos seus despojos, os móveis kitch grandes para o pequeno espaço e as revistas das vedetas, o olhar de dentro e de fora de janelas iluminadas no twilight urbano, todos estes anos parecem ter existido para que conseguisse agora ler as mesmas páginas com um olhar totalmente outro, no limite do estar ciente do conhecimento da língua (parecia simples) e do que faltava então. e o título. tive de ver de quem foi o corpo emprestado às rather wide hips (na página 26) de Myrtle, perfeito nome. foi Karen Black. e o aglomerado de casas quase suspenso, tanto quanto as cortinas e as senhoras na sala aberta dos Buchanan, a que chamou uma main street aglomerada.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Tea 4 Two, na Parede
não encontro mais informação transmissível virtualmente e num acesso de grande preguiça não roubei imagens a esta excelente casa de chá na Parede que tem uma esplanada, uma parede de chás ao quilo que despertam um enorme desejo, flores de chá, chá frio, uma série de diferentes açúcares para acompanhar, inúmeros utensílios para a preparação da bebida do pensamento, incluindo um tea timer para os que se perdem facilmente nos ditos, e muita simpatia. e logo ali ao lado, um grande parqueamento. veio uma mistura oriental com o aroma do gengibre.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Vinde.0, Vintage&Vinhos
na Rua Primeiro de Dezembro número trinta e um, Vinde.0, Vintage&Vinhos: muitos objectos por onde passear e os retalhos de A Realista.
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