Tosh Berman's Blog, page 193

ELIZABETH YOO PAINTING EXHIBITION: Paintings based on Alain Robbe-Grillet's films

Holyrad Studio Presents

Eros and After: Pleasure and Pain in the Early Films of Alain Robbe-Grillet

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3rd
12 PM-9 PM


Saturday, October 3at 12:00pm - 9:00pm in EDTTomorrow · 56°F / 54°F Chance of Rain
Holyrad Studio35 Meadow St Suite 104, Brooklyn, New York 11206
We will be hosting a full day of cultural mischief. Artist Elizabeth Yoo’s paintings are interpretations of scenes from the first four films of French filmmaker and writer Alain Robbe-Grillet, whose experimental, dreamlike work remains as unique, groundbreaking, and controversial today as it was in the 1960s. His movies introduced audiences to a world of sadomasochistic eroticism and disjointed narratives in which the most decadent of fantasies are indulged.

Join us on October 3rd for some light refreshments. Watch scenes from Robbe-Grillet’s films, make new friends, and meet the artist. At 7pm we will be showing Robbe-Grillet's film "Trans-Europ-Express."

Paintings are available for purchase!

www.elizabethyoo.com

Elizabeth is a friend of mine, and this is her first painting exhibition.   I love the series that she is working on, and I just want  to let people / citizens of New York City know that she has an one day opening of her work.  All paintings are based on the cinema of the great French writer/thinker Alain Robbe-Grillet.   If you can make it to the exhibition, please do go.

"Dirty Eddie" by Ludwig Bemelmans BOOK REVIEW

Five Stars. I would give five stars to every page of this book. 240 pages, so that makes it 1,200 stars. I have always liked Ludwig Bemelmans work - especially his travel writing as well as his book about hotel life and running a restaurant in the hotel. But here we have the ultimate 1940s Hollywood era novel, with a cast of hundreds - well at least six or seven, and of course a pig by the name of Dirty Eddie. But Dirty Eddie doesn't even make an appearance till page one hundred-and-something. The beauty of this book is the writing. The words flow out of Bemelmans like the expert that he truly was. He reminds me of P.G. Wodehouse in that he shares the sense of absurdity, with the right sentence at the perfect time. On the surface "Dirty Eddie" may seem light, but I think it's an incredible novel of its time and place (Hollywood, California). 

I don't know the origins of the novel, but I am betting that the characters are based on real people, and perhaps this novel was serialized in a magazine - but that is all an educated guess. Nevertheless: Superb!  I also got this book out of the Los Angeles Downtown Library.   

A personal note from the Publisher of TamTam Books - regarding "In The Words of Sparks - Selected Lyrics"

On a personal note, with respect to "In The Words of Sparks: Selected Lyrics" I wanted to do a proper book with them, that would just focus on the poetry and lyrics of Ron Mael and Russell Mael (Sparks).   I felt that their lyric writing was under-appreciated, and obviously to me, Ron is up there with other iconic American greats like Cole Porter, Stephen Sondheim, Lorenz Hart, and Ira Gershwin.   I brought the project to their attention, and asked them to select at least 75 lyrics for the book.  They did so, with great care and skill.   A lot of the lyrics are mis-printed on the internet as well as even on the original album liner notes.  Both Russell and Ron selected works that were important to them and then they did some editing.  So what is interesting is how Ron and Russell look at their work - and what's important to them.  It is not my selection nor yours - but Ron and Russell's.  

 I approached one of their biggest fans, Morrissey, into writing an introduction.  At the time, I thought this was going to be an impossible match-up, especially since I only at the time, met Morrissey once.  But he was so gracious and wrote a fantastic introduction describing his love for Ron and Russell's lyrics.  When one is a fan of an artist, it becomes a much smaller world.  To be able to publish Ron and Russell's lyrics, as well as the introduction by Morrissey - it was like I didn't want to wake-up from this perfect dream.   "In The Words of Sparks" is the quintessential introduction to the world of Ron and Russell.  Their music is incredible, but to be in a position to read their words by itself - well that is amazing as well.   Thank you Ron, Russell, and Morrissey. 

"The End of the Story" a novel by Lydia Davis

Without a doubt, one of the great books on writing that is not non-fiction, but in fact a work of fiction.  On one level, a narrative (of sorts) regarding the beginning and ending of a relationship, or what we are led to believing is a relationship.  One is not sure, since we're getting the story or narrative from the author -for all I know she maybe making this all up, or it could be a demented diary of sorts.  Fragmented, yet totally readable, the narrator comments on every aspect of her relationship with a younger free-spirit.   She is a college professor who does translations (Lydia is a well-known and great translator) who is writing a novel.  "The End of the Story" is about her relationship or at the very least, based on her affair with this younger guy.   It is also the dread of finishing a novel or a work of literature.  One thinks that it is due to the end of a romance, but it goes down more serious than that.   So far, this is her only novel, and honestly she doesn't need to do another one -because this is very much a perfect work.  Also I enjoy her short (short) stories so much, I never want her to stop that.   Lydia Davis is a great American (but French loving) writer.   If I was teaching writing in a class, for sure the authors I would bring up are: Richard Stark, PG Wodehouse, and of course, Lydia Davis.  A writer can learn a lot from these masters.

Boris Vian - Foam of the Daze BOOK REVIEW

A really nice review of Boris Vian's "Foam of the Daze"  (TamTam Books)

The Sunday Series: Sunday September 27, 2015

The Sunday Series:Sunday September 27, 2015
Well, I was born with everything and I will end up with nothing.   I can physically feel the drain of my finances disappearing, as if it was a personal check written in invisible ink.   The farce that is life, is slowly draining away as well.   I have a fear of looking in the mirror and finding my image gone.    There is a slow leak in my bathtub, and each drop represents my power getting less and less.  I was trying to fix it, but you can't fix something that is fate being written out for you.  I can now understand why friends and even slight acquaintances refuse to see or meet me for a drink.   Why be further reminded of failure?  It is right at this very moment, that I realize what life can be on this planet without me.


The buzz-buzz of the bumble bee, or what is left of the species, will be outside my window, competing with the hum of the early morning traffic.   The sound of people moving from one location to another, not for the sense of adventure, but out of duty.   I close my window, and I can see the one bee hitting against it, over and over again.   The determination to stay on the "program" no matter what, is kind of moving to me, but alas, it's sick.  If there is any happiness for me, it is to be removed from the physical space, and lets myself journey as a spirit.  Even that, I can feel the loneliness of the stores that close their doors as I attempt to enter.   There is no exit. So therefore there should be no entrance for me as well.  


There is something funny about my sadness.   People laugh at it, and that gets me to laugh as well.  I'm so over depression.  It's like the paper you used to wipe up the rain water that came through the house.   Instead of throwing it away, you just let it stay there till it's hardened and mildew takes over.  You can't bother changing the space, so just let nature take care of its own.  


I really want to write a poem.   It's Sunday, and it's either a day that starts off the week, or a reminder that the previous week was one of failure.   I don't go to church, nor do I not drink on Sunday, but instead, I try to dump my head into the thought that is Sunday.  I can't get my head around it.  Why is there a day of the week, where one mediates on their failures?  I have started a manuscript folder that is empty.  Every Sunday I look at the blank white piece of fake computer paper, and wonder "where is the poem?"   So I keep a record of all the empty pages, to remind me that I do try to work, but alas, the brain won't let me forget the darkness that's in my soul.  


At times, I feel the need to disappear into my writing.   If I can somehow take my body and get inside the manuscript, I would be, if not, a better place, but at home.   The brutality of the world is the need for physical comforts, and to be forced away from one's writings, is like the taste of something nasty and not right.  I want to feel right, and therefore I must find the portal to the written world. 


While walking around Los Feliz area of Los Angeles, I went to one of my favorite bookstores "Skylight Books" to purchase a collection of short stories by Emmanuel Bove called "Henri Duchemin and his Shadows."  As I sat at the Brü Coffee Bar, I didn't mean to read a whole story, but I started at the first sentence, and couldn't stop reading till the very end.   All the main characters are male, and too sure of their placement in their world.  Of course, this got me thinking about my problems and how I feel about myself.  Bove, according to the introduction, had a life-time of serious financial mishaps, and I try to imagine myself in his shoes.  In fact, when I look at the ground, and I see my shoes, I think of Bove.  



There is no doubt that I'm heading towards a major fall or breakdown of some sort.  The thing is at this point and time, I need to face up to it, and just either roll with the punch, or if I'm fast enough, must avoid the full hit.   It's odd to read a book and enjoy someone else's suffering. It doesn't make me forget my misery, but somehow enhances the experience as if it was a multi-layered milkshake.  Each bite or drink leads one to another sensation.   The world is not a happy one for me, but nevertheless, it is a landscape that has many textures.  My job is to jump into what is offered to me - both the good and the bad (and to be honest, it doesn't look too good here) and presented in such a fashion, that can hopefully enlighten one.   Or a reader or two.  Or not. 

"Henri Duchemin and his Shadows" by Emmanuel Bove (Introduction by Donald Breckenridge) Translated from the French by Alyson Waters

978-1-59017-832-4, $14.95, nyrb classics
I have never read Emmanuel Bove, and now, I feel like I have a good new friend.  On the other hand, do I need him as a friend?  The short stories all deal with a main character who feels misplaced or not connecting on a human level with others or their settings.  In many ways, they are totally self-destructive figures who seem to enjoy their fall from grace to embrace emotional failure.  Most of his fiction was written between the two world wars, so it's a world that itself is in conflict, and i think Bove is commenting on the nature of that landscape and how one lives on that mental state of depression and fear of the future.  Relationships seem to be built on quicksand than on pavement and ground.  Bove captures these moments that are totally believable, yet they are basically insane people.   Right now, I feel we are going through an age of intense anxiety.   "Henri Duchemin and his Shadows" expresses the culture of the 20s, and makes perfect sense in the year 2015 as well. 

Emmanuel Bove

Test

"A Brief History of Portable Literature" by Enrique Vila-Matas

Another superb book by Enrique Vila-Matas. At the moment, he can do no wrong. This short little novel is the 20th century version of Marvel Comics 'The Avengers or DC comic's "The Justice League of America." What we have here is a secretive group called the Shandies, that consists of Marcel Duchamp, Georgia O'Keefe, Man Ray, and other great "modern" literary figures who meets up in distant cities as well as even in a submarine, to discuss literature. Literature that is based on the assumption of portable literature. Sort of the same nature as Duchamp's portable museum or inventory of his art work in a suitcase. Vila-Matas has an incredible imagination, but based on real people and real events. He specializes in re-writing literary history to his own liking. Right now, I think he is the most essential author. But to be honest, it is because he touches on all stuff that Ihave an interest in. Which is literature, books, and their authors. Especially the good ones.

"Eve's Hollywood" by Eve Babitz

NYRB, 978-1-59017-890-4

Everyone who has resided in Los Angeles for a long time, has a need to put their identity on this landscape.   This is a book about Hollywood, among other things, but it is not just Hollywood, it is "Eve's Hollywood."   The author, Eve Babitz, is a local legend in my version of Los Angeles.  She is known in the world of the artists who live and work here, as well as a friend to the musicians who transformed this city into a world that is totally recognizable, but still a subjective landscape.   I recognize many things in the book as mine as well.   Especially when she talks about films like "Lawrence of the Arabia" and downtown L.A. Mexican food.   It is not obvious to me if this book is a work of fiction or a memoir in parts.  I get the impression that perhaps the original source of this book may have been a column she was writing - I have a faint memory of her byline in an underground paper, but that could be my memory playing tricks on me.  On the other hand, and most important, this is an excellent book on Los Angeles culture - and although, I'm about 12 years younger than her, I can clearly remember the same sites, food, and culture as her.   A very accurate book on that account, and surely a must for those who read or collect books on or about Los Angeles.   Eve is equally a part of another refined world, due to her parents - her dad for instance, was a studio musician who was close to Igor Stravinsky.   So one gets the 1940s bo-ho life as well as the world of rock n' roll and the visual arts.   Nevertheless, the book is truly about Eve and how she deals with her city of choice - with some reference to Rome as well.    Los Angeles as a place but also as a state of mind or being.  I can really relate to this book.


Original paperback edition