a mesa de luz
Monday, September 26, 2016
Saturday, September 24, 2016
Saat her çalışında tekrar eder:
'Ne yaptın tarlanı, nerede hasadın?
Elin boş mu gireceksin geceye?
Bir düşünsen yarıyı buldu ömrün.
Gençlik böyledir işte, gelir gider;
Ve kırılır sonra kolun kanadın;
Koşarsın pencereden pencereye.'
Ah o kadrini bilmediğim günler,
Koklamadan attığım gül demeti,
Suyunu sebil ettiğim o çeşme,
Eserken yelken açmadığım rüzgâr
Gel gör ki, sular batıya meyleder,
Ağaçta bülbülün sesi değişti,
Gölgeler yerleşiyor pencereme;
Çağınız başlıyor ey hâtıralar.
Publicado por Ana V. às 4:52 PM
Friday, September 23, 2016
"The attempt to fuse the public and the private lies behind both Plato's attempt to answer the question "Why is it in one's interest to be just?" and Christianity's claim that perfect self-realization can be attained through service to others. Such metaphysical or theological attempts to unite a striving for perfection with a sense of community require us to acknowledge a common human nature. They ask us to believe that what is most important to each of us is what we have in common with others - that the springs of private fulfillment and of human solidarity are the same. Skeptics like Nietzsche have urged that metaphysics and theology are transparent attempts to make altruism look more reasonable than it is. Yet such skeptics typically have their own theories of human nature. They, too, claim that there is something common to all human beings - for example, the will to power, or libidinal impulses. Their point is that at the "deepest" level of the self there is no sense of human solidarity, that this sense is a "mere" artifact of human socialization. So such skeptics become antisocial. They turn their backs on the very idea of a community larger than a tiny circle of initiates. "
Contingency, Irony and Solidarity, Richard Rorty. great book here.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Tuesday, September 20, 2016
excelente, excelente, muito bom. tudo deste link,
From the Italian sonetto, which means “a little sound or song," the sonnet is a popular classical form that has compelled poets for centuries. Traditionally, the sonnet is a fourteen-line poem written in iambic pentameter, which employ one of several rhyme schemes and adhere to a tightly structured thematic organization. Two sonnet forms provide the models from which all other sonnets are formed: the Petrarchan and the Shakespearean.
The first and most common sonnet is the Petrarchan, or Italian. Named after one of its greatest practitioners, the Italian poet Petrarch, the Petrarchan sonnet is divided into two stanzas, the octave (the first eight lines) followed by the answering sestet (the final six lines). The tightly woven rhyme scheme, abba, abba, cdecde or cdcdcd, is suited for the rhyme-rich Italian language, though there are many fine examples in English. Since the Petrarchan presents an argument, observation, question, or some other answerable charge in the octave, a turn, or volta, occurs between the eighth and ninth lines. This turn marks a shift in the direction of the foregoing argument or narrative, turning the sestet into the vehicle for the counterargument, clarification, or whatever answer the octave demands.
Sir Thomas Wyatt introduced the Petrarchan sonnet to England in the early sixteenth century. His famed translations of Petrarch’s sonnets, as well as his own sonnets, drew fast attention to the form. Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, a contemporary of Wyatt’s, whose own translations of Petrarch are considered more faithful to the original though less fine to the ear, modified the Petrarchan, thus establishing the structure that became known as the Shakespearean sonnet. This structure has been noted to lend itself much better to the comparatively rhyme-poor English language.
The second major type of sonnet, the Shakespearean, or English sonnet, follows a different set of rules. Here, three quatrains and a couplet follow this rhyme scheme: abab, cdcd, efef, gg. The couplet plays a pivotal role, usually arriving in the form of a conclusion, amplification, or even refutation of the previous three stanzas, often creating an epiphanic quality to the end. In Sonnet 130 of William Shakespeare’s epic sonnet cycle, the first twelve lines compare the speaker’s mistress unfavorably with nature’s beauties. But the concluding couplet swerves in a surprising direction:
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Though Shakespeare’s sonnets were perhaps the finest examples of the English sonnet, John Milton’s Italian-patterned sonnets (later known as “Miltonic” sonnets) added several important refinements to the form. Milton freed the sonnet from its typical incarnation in a sequence of sonnets, writing the occasional sonnet that often expressed interior, self-directed concerns. He also took liberties with the turn, allowing the octave to run into the sestet as needed. Both of these qualities can be seen in “When I Consider How My Light is Spent.”
The Spenserian sonnet, invented by sixteenth century English poet Edmund Spenser, cribs its structure from the Shakespearean—three quatrains and a couplet—but employs a series of “couplet links” between quatrains, as revealed in the rhyme scheme: abab, bcbc, cdcd, ee. The Spenserian sonnet, through the interweaving of the quatrains, implicitly reorganized the Shakespearean sonnet into couplets, reminiscent of the Petrarchan. One reason was to reduce the often excessive final couplet of the Shakespearean sonnet, putting less pressure on it to resolve the foregoing argument, observation, or question.
There are several types of sonnet groupings, including the sonnet sequence, which is a series of linked sonnets dealing with a unified subject. Examples include Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnets from the Portuguese and Lady Mary Roth’s The Countess of Montgomery’s Urania, published in 1621, the first sonnet sequence by an English woman.
Within the sonnet sequence, several formal constraints have been employed by various poets, including the corona (crown) and sonnet redoublé. In the corona, the last line of the initial sonnet acts as the first line of the next, and the ultimate sonnet’s final line repeats the first line of the initial sonnet. La Corona by John Donne is comprised of seven sonnets structured this way. The sonnet redoublé is formed of 15 sonnets, the first 14 forming a perfect corona, followed by the final sonnet, which is comprised of the 14 linking lines in order.
The sonnet has continued to engage the modern poet, many of whom also took up the sonnet sequence, notably Rainer Maria Rilke, Robert Lowell, and John Berryman. Stretched and teased formally and thematically, today’s sonnet can often only be identified by the ghost imprint that haunts it, recognizable by the presence of 14 lines or even by name only. Recent practitioners of this so-called “American” sonnet include Gerald Stern, Wanda Coleman, Ted Berrigan, and Karen Volkman. Hundreds of modern sonnets, as well as those representing the long history of the form, are collected in the anthology The Penguin Book of the Sonnet: 500 Years of a Classic Tradition in English (Penguin Books, 2001), edited by Phillis Levin.
o clip também, do poets.org
"To be, or not to be- that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 1750
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them. To die- to sleep-
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks 1755
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die- to sleep.
To sleep- perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub!
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, 1760
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, 1765
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life, 1770
But that the dread of something after death-
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns- puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of? 1775
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry 1780
And lose the name of action."
dizem que é uma "tradução", daqui:
“The question for him was whether to continue to exist or not – whether it was more noble to suffer the slings and arrows of an unbearable situation, or to declare war on the sea of troubles that afflict one, and by opposing them, end them. To die. He pondered the prospect. To sleep – as simple as that. And with that sleep we end the heartaches and the thousand natural miseries that human beings have to endure. It’s an end that we would all ardently hope for. To die. To sleep. To sleep. Perhaps to dream. Yes, that was the problem, because in that sleep of death the dreams we might have when we have shed this mortal body must make us pause. That’s the consideration that creates the calamity of such a long life. Because, who would tolerate the whips and scorns of time; the tyrant’s offences against us; the contempt of proud men; the pain of rejected love; the insolence of officious authority; and the advantage that the worst people take of the best, when one could just release oneself with a naked blade? Who would carry this load, sweating and grunting under the burden of a weary life if it weren’t for the dread of the after life – that unexplored country from whose border no traveller returns? That’s the thing that confounds us and makes us put up with those evils that we know rather than hurry to others that we don’t know about. So thinking about it makes cowards of us all, and it follows that the first impulse to end our life is obscured by reflecting on it. And great and important plans are diluted to the point where we don’t do anything.”
do mesmo sítio, e para matemáticos:
Facts About ‘To Be Or Not To Be’:
1. The first performance of Hamlet was by the King’s Men at the Globe theatre between 1600 and 1601.
2. The first actor to perform the ‘to be or not to be’ soliloquy was Richard Burbage (1567-1619), the famous Elizabethan tragic actor, for whom Shakespeare wrote most of his tragic roles.
3. The first American performance of ‘to be or not to be’ was by Lewis Hallam, who played Hamlet in The American Company’s production of the play in Philadelphia in 1759.
4. The ‘to be or not to be’ soliloquy is 33 lines long, and consists of 262 words. Hamlet, the play in which ‘to be or not to be’ occurs is Shakespeare’s longest play with 4,042 lines.
5. It takes four hours to perform Hamlet on the stage, with the ‘to be or not to be’ soliloquy taking anywhere from 2 to 4 minutes.
6. There is evidence that William Shakespeare played the ghost of Hamlet’s father in the play.
7. Hamlet is the most frequently performed play around the world. It has been calculated that a performance begins somewhere in the world every minute of every day.
8. Edwin Booth, the older brother of John Wilkes Booth, Abraham Lincoln’s assassin, performed ‘to be or not to be’ for one hundred nights in his role of Hamlet at the Winter Garden Theatre, New York, in the 1864/65 season.
9. The castle, Elsinor, where ‘to be or not to be’ is spoken, really exists. It is called Kronborg Castle and is in the Danish port of Helsingør. It was built in 1423 by the Danish king, Eric of Pomerania.
10. The opening line of the soliloquy, ‘to be or not to be, that is the question,’ is the most searched for Shakespeare quote on the internet.
11. More than 200 women have performed ‘to be or not to be’ in the role of Hamlet on the professional stage.
12. The first woman to have performed ‘to be or not to be’ on the stage was Sarah Siddons, the toast of Dury Lane, and famous in her time for her Lady Macbeth. She first played Hamlet in 1776.
13. The ‘to be or not to be’ soliloquy has appeared in over 50 film adaptations of Hamlet since 1900.
14. The storyline of Disney film The Lion King is based on Hamlet.
15. Tom Stoppard’s acclaimed play, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead, features two minor characters in Hamlet.
16. At least two films have been named after quotes from the ‘to be or not to be’ soliloquy – 1991’s Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (line 24, “The undiscovered Country, from whose bourn“) and 1998’s What Dreams May Come (line 11 “For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come“)
17. In a 1963 debate in Oxford, Malcolm X quoted the first few lines of the ‘to be or not to be’ to make a point about “extremism in defence of liberty.”
to be or not to be font.
a Shakespearean app.
Monday, September 19, 2016
e finalmente 'Mountains May Depart', o último filme de Jia Zhangke. os actores são os mesmos, a temática a mesma, o local o mesmo, outro grande filme. a novidade absoluta é a mudança radical de lugar e de língua na terceira e última parte do filme que se passa em 2025. eu diria que Zhangke está melhor no presente e no passado. a sua visão do futuro em Melbourne está fraca, limitada, cliché até, enfim, um peixe fora de água (nota para o tablet e o telefone, transparentes e muito bonitos mesmo espero que alguém se inspire e os desenhe assim).
o espelho até certo ponto da história recente da China, sem os fervores e as mortes da onda comunista mas numa morte lenta, uma revolução silenciosa e letal. Zhangke deveria talvez adoptar para si a palavra 'saudade', o peso da sua melancolia é um gigante à solta em toda a sua obra.
an entire oeuvre dedicated to the tragic effects of capitalism in China.
a menina do clip acima quer que o filme seja sobre triângulos amorosos, mas não é. é sobre o capitalismo.
a review from The Film Sufi, here.
a review in Slant Magazine, here.
a review in Bright Lights, here.
a review in Guardian, here.
an article in the Visual Culture blog.
an article in Studies in Cinema.
Upon release, Still Life was widely heralded, ending up on many “ten best” lists for the year. The influential French film journal "Cahiers du cinéma" chose it as the second best film of the year, the Los Angeles Film Critics Association named it the best foreign film, and it took home the top prize Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival.
já que não escrevi antes, fica pelo menos a página de notas.
um dia de cinema que dediquei de novo a Jia Zhangke a quem Ebert chama "one of the contemporary world’s great filmmakers". aqui um documentário de 2008, depois de Still Life que vi mas sobre o qual não tomei nota aqui embora tenha sido um dos filmes que mais perdurou na minha memória e que mais formou a minha ideia da nova China.
a não perder 'Mountains May Depart', agora no Monumental.
Saturday, September 17, 2016
o filme mais bonito que já vi mas isso é dizer pouco, um dos melhores filmes jamais feitos, talvez seja mais claro. não vou dizer nada sobre esta obra-prima, citações só.
by Arseni Tarkovsky
Each moment of our dates, not many,
We celebrated as an Epiphany.
Alone in the whole world.
More daring and lighter than a bird
Down the stairs, like a dizzy apparition,
You came to take me on your road,
Through rain-soaked lilacs,
To your own possession,
To the looking glass world.
As night descended
I was blessed with grace,
The altar gate opened up,
And in the darkness shining
And slowly reclining
Was your body naked.
On waking up I said:
God bless you!
Although I knew how daring and undue
My blessing was: You were fast asleep,
Your closed eyelids with the universal blue
The lilac on the table so strained to sweep.
Touched by the blue, your lids
Were quite serene, your hand was warm.
And rivers pulsed in crystal slits,
Mountains smoked, and oceans swarmed.
You held a sphere in your palm,
Of crystal; on your throne you were sleeping calm.
And, oh my God! -
Belonging only to me,
You woke and at once transformed
The language humans speak and think.
Speech rushed up sonorously formed,
With the word “you” so much reformed
As to evolve a new sense meaning king.
And suddenly all changed, like in a trance,
Even trivial things, so often used and tried,
When standing 'tween us, guarding us,
Was water, solid, stratified.
It carried us I don’t know where.
Retreating before us, like some mirage,
Were cities, miraculously fair.
Under our feet the mint grass spread,
The birds were following our tread,
The fishes came to a river bend,
And to our eyes the sky was open.
Behind us our fate was groping,
Like an insane man with a razor in his hand.
(translated from the Russian by Tatiana Kameneva)
A Beautiful Day
Beneath the jasmine a stone
marks a buried treasure.
On the path, my father stands.
A beautiful, beautiful day.
The gray poplar blooms,
and milky grass,
and behind it, roses climb.
I have never been
more happy than then.
I have never been more
happy than then.
To return is impossible
and to talk about it, forbidden—
how it was filled with bliss,
that heavenly garden.
daqui, muito bom.
But what might appear confused, difficult, or opaque on first viewing becomes something else with repeated screenings. Having seen Mirror a half-dozen times, over a decade or so, in a number of different countries, it now appears to me as simplicity itself. What at first seems to be an aberration in regards cinematic narration now seems the most organic means of telling a story through the medium of film, through the use of images suffused with movement, time and light. Tarkovsky has described the dramaturgy of Mirror as following “the associative laws of music and poetry” (6), laws that are – at the same time – transformed through their contact with the medium of film.
daqui, Senses of Cinema.
“Mirror is so hypnotic that questions of the film’s alleged impenetrability dissolve under the impact of moment after moment of the most visually stunning, rhythmically captivating filmmaking imaginable.”
Maximilian Le Cain em www.sensesofcinema.com
este filme é mais eu do que eu.
“My discovery of [his] first film was like a miracle,” recalled Ingmar Bergman. “Suddenly, I found myself standing at the door of a room the keys of which had, until then, never been given to me.”
este é de Robert Lowell no livrinho Aos Mortos da União da Assírio, com notas e tradução do meu ex-professor de várias vezes (e muito apreciado) Mário Avelar a quem devo vários abrir de olhos. assim são os professores que mudam vidas. querem "contabilizar" isto? a vida está fora da economia, caros, já dizia o Fernando, que o melhor de tudo era Jesus Cristo que não consta que soubesse nada de finanças (nem tinha biblioteca). é a vidinha.
Friday, September 16, 2016
continuando a estrada da poesia visto que o descendente está a ser indoctrinado tanto em inglês como em português. a contar versos, sílabas, a saber o nome das várias estrofes e a ler Florbela Espanca. a dizer que os adolescentes não lêem poesia (contraponho veementemente com as letras Grandes de Sam the Kid, Boss AC de quem imprimi o E se fosse contigo), que a poesia é "expressão" de "sentimentos e emoções" de um "eu poético", expressões e ideias século dezanovistas que detesto. gosto de voz, ideia, emoção, momento, imagem. snapshop até, escultura de palavras ou de sons. lemos alguns poemas imagistas onde o tal eu se esfumou na espuma das ondas. ontem ia caindo de costas no sentido mais literal do pensamento com O Espelho de Tarkovsky, o realizador do meu coração. perdi o Solaris mas que interessa, vejo mais tarde de novo e de novo.
e lemos este caminho de Carl Sandburg, o poeta do midwest americano, da energia, de Chicago com os seus prédios erguidos do chão, um favorito. ontem enganei-me e associei Tarik Akan a Yol, induzida em erro por um turco do Instagram. foi Sürü, que ainda tenho de ver. Tarik com o outro 'i' era um actor amado pela nação, um homem bom. imagino que tão querido como o nosso Ruy de Carvalho, mas com o extra da defesa da humanidade, da liberdade, tão importante naquele país. no nosso as lutas passaram a lutas pelos déficits europeus, pela luta dos euros e das dívidas. do mal o menos, que bem estamos afinal.