Helen DeWitt's Blog, page 31
May 17, 2011
When I went to see Bill Clegg in New York in September 20...
When I went to see Bill Clegg in New York in September 2009 my mother had just been rushed to the hospital - we were told that if she had got there an hour later she would probably have died. So we were all very worried and did not know how things would turn out. I took the bus down to Washington from NYC on the recommendation of a friend.
Friend, Time A: Oh, don't take the train, it'll be over $100! You should just take the bus! It's only four hours, and it only costs $20!
My friend kept insisting on the ease, speed and economy with which Washington could be reached by bus, till I capitulated and agreed to travel by this absurdly cheap method of transport.
Friend, Time B (when I have bought my ticket and am about to leave): I'll be interested to see how you find it, I've never tried it.
Ah.
(The bus hits Washington around rush hour, reaching the terminal some 6 hours after departure from New York.)
When I finally got to the hospital, anyway, my mother was sitting miserably in bed; my stepbrother and his wife were there, having cancelled their vacation to stay with my mother; my sister and I insisted that they go back to the house and take a break. I sat in the room with my mother -- and raised her spirits by reading favourite episodes from Dinosaur Comics off my laptop. My mother was enchanted. A dangerous source of solace for someone straight out surgery, with fresh stitches: she was howling with laughter. (Much as I love Mr Whitelist (aka Joey Comeau) and A Softer World, I am not sure the comic offers the light relief suitable to a 78-year-old fresh from surgery.)
At any rate, it turns out all episodes from DC since 2006 are now available in a book - in colour, no less - with an introduction by Randall Munroe! I wish I had known in time for Mother's Day, but I may send it along as a surprise gift. (Which I can then read the next time I go on a visit.)
Also -- and this is THE PERFECT ARTIFACT -- there is now a Dinosaur Comics whiteboard. The whiteboard displays the 6 panels of DC, with blank spaces to be filled in as the wit of the owner dictates. It is currently out of stock (quelle surprise), but new supplies are expected shortly. I am feeling pretty morose myself at the moment for various reasons (the usual), but I think possession of a DC whiteboard would be just the thing to raise morale. A superb piece of merch which no home should be without.
A reader once told me off for selling short stories off my website. I shudder to think what she would make of Samurai-related merch -- the real problem, though, is that nothing can surpass the DC whiteboard, which encapsulates the genius of the comic in a way that is rare among merch. I thought of a children's t-shirt (jinsai: indispensable euphemism for small child) - just the thing for Harvey, I think - but it's not in the same class.
My mother still talks about the second time she went into hospital. She was taken to intensive care after a short time on the ward; she was frightened and in pain and terribly, terribly thirsty, because she was not allowed to drink (she could have one ice cube, and a moistened swab passed over the lips). The nights were very long; she would ask the time every five minutes, under the impression that hours must have passed. From time to time I massaged her feet, because it seemed to be the one pleasant sensation on offer. She still remembers this, and talks of how kind I was, and I feel ashamed, because I did not do it nearly enough. It's perfectly true that this was not necessary to preserve life, but in the circumstances one is inclined to say 'Question not the need'; one feels one ought to do everything in one's power for someone so badly off. It's hard to get my head around the idea that one should cut back on the level of care; that the effort of being cheerful and pleasant through sleepless nights should not be directed to the patient, because something must be kept in reserve for a young man with excellent health, a nice New York life and large circle of friends.
Anyway, it's bad to do business with people who act in a capricious, impulsive way; it takes years to get clear of the damage, and meanwhile one has to get through each day, and there are too many days. It doesn't help to think about it, but it's hard not to think about it. But then, the thing is, out of the blue, I saw this completely enchanting whiteboard and laughed out loud.
Friend, Time A: Oh, don't take the train, it'll be over $100! You should just take the bus! It's only four hours, and it only costs $20!
My friend kept insisting on the ease, speed and economy with which Washington could be reached by bus, till I capitulated and agreed to travel by this absurdly cheap method of transport.
Friend, Time B (when I have bought my ticket and am about to leave): I'll be interested to see how you find it, I've never tried it.
Ah.
(The bus hits Washington around rush hour, reaching the terminal some 6 hours after departure from New York.)
When I finally got to the hospital, anyway, my mother was sitting miserably in bed; my stepbrother and his wife were there, having cancelled their vacation to stay with my mother; my sister and I insisted that they go back to the house and take a break. I sat in the room with my mother -- and raised her spirits by reading favourite episodes from Dinosaur Comics off my laptop. My mother was enchanted. A dangerous source of solace for someone straight out surgery, with fresh stitches: she was howling with laughter. (Much as I love Mr Whitelist (aka Joey Comeau) and A Softer World, I am not sure the comic offers the light relief suitable to a 78-year-old fresh from surgery.)
At any rate, it turns out all episodes from DC since 2006 are now available in a book - in colour, no less - with an introduction by Randall Munroe! I wish I had known in time for Mother's Day, but I may send it along as a surprise gift. (Which I can then read the next time I go on a visit.)
Also -- and this is THE PERFECT ARTIFACT -- there is now a Dinosaur Comics whiteboard. The whiteboard displays the 6 panels of DC, with blank spaces to be filled in as the wit of the owner dictates. It is currently out of stock (quelle surprise), but new supplies are expected shortly. I am feeling pretty morose myself at the moment for various reasons (the usual), but I think possession of a DC whiteboard would be just the thing to raise morale. A superb piece of merch which no home should be without.
A reader once told me off for selling short stories off my website. I shudder to think what she would make of Samurai-related merch -- the real problem, though, is that nothing can surpass the DC whiteboard, which encapsulates the genius of the comic in a way that is rare among merch. I thought of a children's t-shirt (jinsai: indispensable euphemism for small child) - just the thing for Harvey, I think - but it's not in the same class.
My mother still talks about the second time she went into hospital. She was taken to intensive care after a short time on the ward; she was frightened and in pain and terribly, terribly thirsty, because she was not allowed to drink (she could have one ice cube, and a moistened swab passed over the lips). The nights were very long; she would ask the time every five minutes, under the impression that hours must have passed. From time to time I massaged her feet, because it seemed to be the one pleasant sensation on offer. She still remembers this, and talks of how kind I was, and I feel ashamed, because I did not do it nearly enough. It's perfectly true that this was not necessary to preserve life, but in the circumstances one is inclined to say 'Question not the need'; one feels one ought to do everything in one's power for someone so badly off. It's hard to get my head around the idea that one should cut back on the level of care; that the effort of being cheerful and pleasant through sleepless nights should not be directed to the patient, because something must be kept in reserve for a young man with excellent health, a nice New York life and large circle of friends.
Anyway, it's bad to do business with people who act in a capricious, impulsive way; it takes years to get clear of the damage, and meanwhile one has to get through each day, and there are too many days. It doesn't help to think about it, but it's hard not to think about it. But then, the thing is, out of the blue, I saw this completely enchanting whiteboard and laughed out loud.
May 15, 2011
About a week ago I got a notification from PayPal that a ...
About a week ago I got a notification from PayPal that a reader had sent a donation for a secondhand sale of Samurai. I was, as always, extremely touched and wrote back to say thank you. He then mentioned that he had named his cat Helen and hoped this was all right. I said, Well, my ex-husband named his dog Ludo, so it must be all right.
Today I got another email; the NGO from which he had adopted the first cat wanted a home for its sister and thought they should stay together. So he now has two cats, Helen and Sibylla. They are five months old. Sibylla is the aloof, unfriendly one at the back:
Today I got another email; the NGO from which he had adopted the first cat wanted a home for its sister and thought they should stay together. So he now has two cats, Helen and Sibylla. They are five months old. Sibylla is the aloof, unfriendly one at the back:
April 28, 2011
Setting the extraordinary technical difficulty of the mus...
Setting the extraordinary technical difficulty of the music of Domenico Scarlatti and Bach against the keyboard music of the later part of the century, one might think that keyboard technique had deteriorated; in fact, the market for piano music had expanded.
It was Beethoven who felt that the desires of the amateur -- or even of the average professional -- were not worth attending to except when he wrote an easy piece to make a little extra money. (Even then, his idea of an easy piece -- for example, the first movement of opus 79 -- was likely to deter the average amateur, just as Mozart composed one of his hardest works -- the Sonata in D Major K. 576 -- under the mistaken impression that he was producing something that could be negotiated by a beginner or an amateur.)
Charles Rosen, Piano Notes: The World of the Pianist
It was Beethoven who felt that the desires of the amateur -- or even of the average professional -- were not worth attending to except when he wrote an easy piece to make a little extra money. (Even then, his idea of an easy piece -- for example, the first movement of opus 79 -- was likely to deter the average amateur, just as Mozart composed one of his hardest works -- the Sonata in D Major K. 576 -- under the mistaken impression that he was producing something that could be negotiated by a beginner or an amateur.)
Charles Rosen, Piano Notes: The World of the Pianist
April 26, 2011
Lightning Rods will be published by New Directions in Oct...
Lightning Rods will be published by New Directions in October. I have managed to get access to my website again and added a page describing the book, here. It's now available for pre-order on Amazon at a handsome 34% discount
(Amazon.ca, 28% discount, Amazon.co.uk, 11% discount...)
(Amazon.ca, 28% discount, Amazon.co.uk, 11% discount...)
April 22, 2011
Tourner un film est la chose la plus ennuyeuse du monde.....
Tourner un film est la chose la plus ennuyeuse du monde.
...
Impossible de prendre du temps pour se concentrer. On ne vous en donne pas. Ce qui fait que l'esprit, l'humeur, le caractère sont soumis à une sorte de douche écossaise dont le flot de moments intenses et forts ne durent que quelques minutes, alors que la douceur tiède de l'attente distille son ennui durant des heures.
Rien n'est plus favorable à la naissance d'une passion que ce mélange de solitude ennuyeuse et de quelques moments rares et longtemps désirés.
J'avais vingt ans, je tournais mon premier filme, Ciel d'Enfer, réalisé par Youssef Shahin, un de mes amis qui, comme moi, est chrétien libanais vivant en Égypte. J'avais pour partenaire féminine la grande star Faten Hamamam, qui allait par la suite devenir ma femme. Et, comme je viens de l'expliquer, j'attendais deux ou trois heures le moment de me concentrer intensément pour entrer quelques minutes dans le personnage d'un jeune homme séduisant et séduit qui triomphe de l'amour et la mort.
Seules des lectures d'intérêt mineur, des lectures qu'on peut qualifier "de surface", par opposition aux lectures profondes, pouvaient meubler ces heures d'attente. Je me vois encore dans une petite librairie du centre d'Alexandrie, parcourant du regard les rayonnages à la recherche de livres ennuyeux, mais pas trop. Je rejetais Proust -- que plus tard me procura d'énormes plaisirs--, je me refusais le génial romancier de l'Angleterre puritaine, Thackeray. J'avais dévoré la Foire aux Vanités, et je savais que son grand héros, Pendennis, était exactement l'étudiant d'Oxford dont j'aurais aimé jouer le personnage... Et mes yeux se portèrent par hasard sur le Blue Book -- en français, je suppose que c'est le "Livre Blue" -- de Goren.
J'ignorais alors tout du bridge, je savais seulement que c'était un jeu de cartes qui se joue à quatre. Et le lendemain, c'est d'une âme parfaitement indifférente que j'ouvris ce livre, confortablement installé, attendant que le réalisateur qui organisait on plan de tournage ait besois que le séducteur de Ciel d'Enfer appairaisse dans le champ pour y accomplir ses ravages.
Omar Sharif, Ma vie au bridge.
[I have had a book accepted for publication. The difference between the life of the writer and that of the actor in a film is that the waiting around goes on for months rather than a mere couple of hours.]
...
Impossible de prendre du temps pour se concentrer. On ne vous en donne pas. Ce qui fait que l'esprit, l'humeur, le caractère sont soumis à une sorte de douche écossaise dont le flot de moments intenses et forts ne durent que quelques minutes, alors que la douceur tiède de l'attente distille son ennui durant des heures.
Rien n'est plus favorable à la naissance d'une passion que ce mélange de solitude ennuyeuse et de quelques moments rares et longtemps désirés.
J'avais vingt ans, je tournais mon premier filme, Ciel d'Enfer, réalisé par Youssef Shahin, un de mes amis qui, comme moi, est chrétien libanais vivant en Égypte. J'avais pour partenaire féminine la grande star Faten Hamamam, qui allait par la suite devenir ma femme. Et, comme je viens de l'expliquer, j'attendais deux ou trois heures le moment de me concentrer intensément pour entrer quelques minutes dans le personnage d'un jeune homme séduisant et séduit qui triomphe de l'amour et la mort.
Seules des lectures d'intérêt mineur, des lectures qu'on peut qualifier "de surface", par opposition aux lectures profondes, pouvaient meubler ces heures d'attente. Je me vois encore dans une petite librairie du centre d'Alexandrie, parcourant du regard les rayonnages à la recherche de livres ennuyeux, mais pas trop. Je rejetais Proust -- que plus tard me procura d'énormes plaisirs--, je me refusais le génial romancier de l'Angleterre puritaine, Thackeray. J'avais dévoré la Foire aux Vanités, et je savais que son grand héros, Pendennis, était exactement l'étudiant d'Oxford dont j'aurais aimé jouer le personnage... Et mes yeux se portèrent par hasard sur le Blue Book -- en français, je suppose que c'est le "Livre Blue" -- de Goren.
J'ignorais alors tout du bridge, je savais seulement que c'était un jeu de cartes qui se joue à quatre. Et le lendemain, c'est d'une âme parfaitement indifférente que j'ouvris ce livre, confortablement installé, attendant que le réalisateur qui organisait on plan de tournage ait besois que le séducteur de Ciel d'Enfer appairaisse dans le champ pour y accomplir ses ravages.
Omar Sharif, Ma vie au bridge.
[I have had a book accepted for publication. The difference between the life of the writer and that of the actor in a film is that the waiting around goes on for months rather than a mere couple of hours.]
April 10, 2011
Emotion words and expressive strategies cannot, as a rule...
Emotion words and expressive strategies cannot, as a rule, be used in reference to persons other than the speaker. In cases where they do refer to persons other than the speaker, most must either be used in quotation or must go through grammatical manipulations that explicitly mark them.
This is particularly true in the case of adjectives of emotion, for example, kanashii, 'sad'. Now, Kanashii 'I'm sad' is grammatically correct, but *Ano hito wa kanashii 'He is sad' is not acceptable under ordinary circumstances. Instead, what is acceptable is Ano hito wa kanashi soo da 'He appears to be sad'. In Japanese it is necessary to mark the sentence if it is not about the speaker's but about someone else's emotion. The reason for this is that, although one can experience one's own emotions directly, someone else's emotions are not so accessible.
The distinction in Japanese is not necessarily required in other languages. In English, for example, it is possible to say "I'm happy" and "I think so" as well as "Yamada is happy" and "Yamada thinks so." It is important to remember that in Japanese, the distinction is obligatory, and extra attention must be paid when referring to one's own or another's thoughts and feelings.
Senko K. Maynard, Expressive Japanese: A Reference Guide For Sharing Emotion And Empathy
March 29, 2011
I have a piece in the latest issue of the Review of Conte...
I have a piece in the latest issue of the Review of Contemporary Fiction ("Awesome, or The Internet as Consolation").
There will be a reading from the RCF on Failure this Saturday, 2 April, from 3 to 5 at MoMA P.S.1 (22-25 Jackson Ave (at the intersection of 46th Ave), Long Island City, NY 11101).
The editor, Joshua Cohen, will introduce the proceedings; there will then be readings by Keith Gessen, Sam Frank, Eileen Myles and Travis Jeppesen (in person) and me (by Skype).
More about the issue and event here.
There will be a reading from the RCF on Failure this Saturday, 2 April, from 3 to 5 at MoMA P.S.1 (22-25 Jackson Ave (at the intersection of 46th Ave), Long Island City, NY 11101).
The editor, Joshua Cohen, will introduce the proceedings; there will then be readings by Keith Gessen, Sam Frank, Eileen Myles and Travis Jeppesen (in person) and me (by Skype).
More about the issue and event here.
Lions and tigers and dubya
When the Protection from Harassment Act was being debated, campaigners warned that a bill whose ostensible purpose was to protect women from stalkers was so loosely drafted that it could be used by the police however they wished. The warnings were ignored, and the first three people arrested under the act were not stalkers but peaceful protesters. The police used the law, among many such instances, against protesters outside the US intelligence base at Menwith Hill, who were deemed to have harassed American servicemen by holding up a placard reading "George W Bush? Oh dear!"; and against a protester in Hull, on the grounds that he had been "staring at a building". Notoriously, the act was used to obtain an injunction against villagers in Oxfordshire, protesting against a plan by RWE npower to turn their beautiful lake into a fly ash dump. If they went anywhere near the lake, they would be prosecuted for harassing the burly men guarding the site.
George Monbiot at the Guardian
March 23, 2011
xkcd has a terrific graphic (with disclaimer) on differen...
xkcd has a terrific graphic (with disclaimer) on different levels of radiation exposure, here.
January 28, 2011
I'm going over to Washington tomorrow for a few weeks to ...
I'm going over to Washington tomorrow for a few weeks to visit my mother, who has had another operation; probably going up to New York for a few days the second week of February. Might have another brunch somewhere in DC if anyone would like to come.
Meanwhile, a minor annoyance: spilled a drink on my MacBook a couple of weeks ago, had to replace. The good news: the new MacBook had Snow Leopard; it was possible to install Creative Studio ME, which I had previously only been able to install on the older Powerbook which was running on Tiger. The bad news: now that I have transferred all my Sites files over to the new machine, I am unable to connect to the server, and none of the sites turn up in the Files panel when I try to Manage Sites - even though there is no problem opening the files. (Somewhat unfortunately, the last time I did anything much with Dreamweaver was back in 2006.)
I wondered whether there might be a reader in either the DC area or in NYC who is au fait with Dreamweaver and would be willing to sit down with me and these luckless machines; it would be nice, obviously, if I could do everything on one.
Meanwhile, a minor annoyance: spilled a drink on my MacBook a couple of weeks ago, had to replace. The good news: the new MacBook had Snow Leopard; it was possible to install Creative Studio ME, which I had previously only been able to install on the older Powerbook which was running on Tiger. The bad news: now that I have transferred all my Sites files over to the new machine, I am unable to connect to the server, and none of the sites turn up in the Files panel when I try to Manage Sites - even though there is no problem opening the files. (Somewhat unfortunately, the last time I did anything much with Dreamweaver was back in 2006.)
I wondered whether there might be a reader in either the DC area or in NYC who is au fait with Dreamweaver and would be willing to sit down with me and these luckless machines; it would be nice, obviously, if I could do everything on one.
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