Power Quote by Angela Carter: A Fancy Way of Saying “Eat Me”
From the short story, “The Lady of the House of Love” . I would normally stick my tongue between my two fingers, but this is a much fancier and therefore a better way of saying eat me? This is a reaction to all the uncalled for harshness of life, for all the sick joy that people get from their little, or big, acts of hostility (I know, I should save it for Mean Monday, oops. I read the story this weekend, so it is fresh in my mind):
And I leave you as a souvenir the dark, fanged rose. I plucked from between my thighs, like a flower laid on a grave. On a grave.
Cribs: Literature special
This post is somewhat of a stretch, but I figured (as a non-AWPer) it’s my duty to post something at least once before their long awaited return.
Last night I watched MTV Cribs, which I’m sure most, if not all of you know, is a show which follows celebrities around in their homes. The first home was 50 Cent’s; he lived in a mall-type castle, with a movie theatre, recording studio, complex lagoon system, and live strip-club (with actual bitches n’ shit — sorry, just keepin’ the vernacular fo realz). The rappers and basketball stars seem to live in the most oppulent places, which are (despite their success) probably on lease. Anyways, I have a point.
Junior High Dance
- Is my poor boy suffering? Are you Htmlgiant people having fun without me?
No, this is not a picture of htmlgiant contributors rocking out at the AWP. (Yes, I am jealous and bitter.) This is a photo of a junior high dance. My son is at one tonight. I sit at home, worried about him. When I think of junior high dances, only one thing comes to mind: me, at a dance at a roller-skating rink, they play the “slow song”, called, “I Like Dreaming (cause dreaming will make you mine)”, and standing alone watching people slow roller skate, my heart broken in two. Here is an A.A. Bondy song about dancing, and death, and the Rapture:
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Putting in the Seed By Robert Frost
It’s warm and sunny here in New York and the days are getting longer. I know, it’s only February. I know that the wind is causing all sorts of tragedy. But it IS boobs/chesticles friday. (I think I am the only one not ready to give up boobs/chesticles friday.) And it has been positively Spring-like here. Time to make babies! I want to make babies with this man to our left. And speaking of baby making, Robert Frost wrote this wonderfully raw poem about Spring-time lust and fecundity:
Power Quote from Lisa Yuskavage
I don’ t think there is an uninteresting person alive. It’s just that not everyone has access to themselves, to the full range of thier emotional life. This is why my work often embarrasses me and why I need it to embarrass me. Being embarrassed allows me to access more surprising pictorial solutions. I don’t know precisely how, but it seems to function as a clarifying agent.
Power Quote: Gordon Lish
God, the only thing to do is to have a good laugh at the joke. Ha ha ha. You hear me laughing at the joke? I am laughing at the joke. Ha ha ha. I am having a good laugh at it. Ha ha ha. “This is me.” “This is you.” Ha ha ha.
–Zimzum
Power Quote: M.L. Rosenthal
Behind much of [Edward Arlington] Robinson’s work, in both its more successful and its less successful aspects, lies a deeply American obsession with the theme of failure: failure of a career, failure of a social class or a society, failure of a needed meaning to sustain itself–and, finally, the inevitable failure of life to resist death’s encroachment. Remembering Eliot’s motifs of sexual and spiritual failure and Pound’s savage complaints at a culture’s failure to realize itself, we see how much those poets have in common with Robinson after all. ‘When we think of America,’ said D.H. Lawrence in his introduction to Edward Dahlberg’s novel Bottom Dogs, ‘and of her huge success, we never realize how many failures have gone, and still go to build up that success.’
– “Rival Idioms: The Great Generation” (being Chapter Five of The Modern Poets: A Critical Introduction)
**BONUS**
Read Robinson’s “Miniver Cheevy”
Read Robinson’s “Richard Corey”
Read Lawrence’s “Last Lesson of the Afternoon”
Enough failure for one day? Ready for earthy pagan Modernist resurrection sex?
Read Lawrence’s “New Heaven and Earth”
Herman Melville writes for Friends.
So, you know when you’re watching a fairly uninspired sitcom, or a middle of the road comedy film, there’s that scene where two straight guys end up having to share a bed for the night and, invariably, when they wake up the next day, one guy has his arm around the other and they are all cuddled up and then they both freak out and jump up and act masculine? Or one wakes up and the other is so completely out of it, he doesn’t, and the one who is awake has to try to get himself out of the situation somehow?
You know how you watch that scene and say: “Oh, yeah. This again.”
That scene? You know that scene, right?
Did you know Melville invented it?