Keep Your Pantheon (and School): Two Unrelated Plays by David Mamet

You have to agree – the title is a smart-ass pun of words, huh?

Keep Your Pantheon is Mamet's 2008 play about a troupe of poor Roman actors struggling to make a buck (well, a few hundred sesterces) and keep not even their pants – their heads on.

Frankly, as much as I like Mamet (by all means, the man is a great playwright), while the book is quite readable (and, god is merciful, short: just 70 pages), it's just not as much fun as, say, Glengarry Glen Ross or Oleanna or even more recent Race.

It is witty and it is about ancient Rome, a very trendy topic recently, but not something I could relate to in full. It probably had something to do with the fact that I view Mamet as a quite contemporary author, and all his attempts at pre-XXth century settings are not exactly my favorites, movies inclusive – take The Winslow Boy, for example – weak.

School is way too short – plus it lacks a meaningful story for me to like it – thought it had a funny quote for me to steal.

B: No, we “won” the war. Though, while not debatable, it is ironic. That the cars we drive. Are made by the nations we obliterated. That's ironic.

 


Dime Quién Soy by Julia Navarro

It's been awhile since I gave up reading a book that I started reading. But this one clearly deserves it.

Bought into a nice sepia filtered old Red Square photo on the cover and a few positive reviews on several blogs and websites – and, poor me, decided to start reading this eleven hundred page monster.

My patience ran out around page 400, at the end of the Moscow bit. While overall I am quite positive on reading historic fiction, like, say some of Mendoza's novels, this one is cheap holiday junk. Reading the Moscow piece, any Russian can't help but notice that this lady has not been to Moscow (or maybe once on a packaged tour), has no clue about minor details that make crap fiction into an intriguing historic read. Clearly, she hasn't heard how much effort Mr. Joyce put into describing a single day.

Uff, while forcing with myself into reading this further, I ended up giving up on reading entirely and back into watching movies, flipping through magazines, procrastinating on facebook, anything, but this junk.

1/5. Or less.

Gone. Moving into something entirely different. Trainspotting prequel is out, Skagboys. Keeping my fingers crossed for the good old grandpa Irvine.


Los Inocentes by Gipi

Los Inocentes, a twenty-or-so page-long comic book by Gipi conveniently translated from Italian into Spanish, is a short flashback by a young guy into his own and his friends' wasted youth in the street. How mean hateful people, especially those with power, can provoke children. How children retaliate.

In a sense, the story reminds me of Mathieu Kassovitz's perennial La Haine – or, for those who's seen it, El Bola by Achero Mañas – or, maybe in a more proper sense, Susanne Bier's breathtaking Hævnen.

The art, I'd say, is less prominent visually than that of Exterior Noche, recently read as well, but still quite unique for comic books – as too few are done in paint and not in pencil these days.

 


Атилло Длиннозубое Эдуарда Лимонова

Старик Савенко продолжает поражать своей неугасаемой энергией. По-прежнему, поэт отстает от писателя на порядки, но даже поэт тут берет не талантом, а напором.

Ты обладаешь девкой стоя,

Ведь девка — существо простое,

Вечерний час вдоль девки льется,

Она и стонет, и трясется,

Тебе, — мужчине отдается…


Кишка у девки горяча,

И ножки пляшут ча-ча-ча.

========================

Феллахи свергли фараона.

Каира темные сыны

Среди туристского сезона,

Как будто дети сатаны,

Стащили с трона Мубарака.

Зоологических богов

(Там Бог-шакал и Бог-собака)

Они не тронули, однако,

Не отвинтили им голов.

Феллахи поступили мудро,

Им надоел их фараон.

И вот, главу посыпав пудрой,

От власти отрешился он.

Найдут другого Фараона

Каира темные сыны,

Тутмоса или Эхнатона…

Из чувства мести и вины…

 


R.I.P.: Best of 1985-2004 by Thomas Ott

The R.I.P. anthology is a much darker and uglier set of crime/horror stories by Swiss author Thomas Ott than his other books like Cinema Panopticum or The Number.

Full of murder, hate, oppression, torture, suicide, and madness, these stories may repulse quite a few readers. The content is not so much different from a typical Alfred Hitchcock Presents / Tales from the Crypt kind of story, but in a comic book format, especially one drawn by Ott, the stories are much more graphic, disturbing and gory.

I copied here Clean Up!, not so sinister a tale that I was able to get from the book sampler – probably not the best in the collection, but still, it gives a very good idea what to expect.

 


Cinema Panopticum by Thomas Ott

I found Thomas Ott by pure accident, flipping through the shelves of Newbury Comics in Harvard Sq. The book I got myself back then had a fascinating cover and an intriguing title The Number 73304-23-4156-6-96-8 – and given it was a pricey hardcover packed in sealed cellophane, I couldn't sneak a peak – so I bought it just because of these two characteristics, cover and title. It was worth it – indeed, it was a hell of a read, as far as i remember – though, to be absolutely frank, I forgot the story entirely by now. Will re-visit.

Cinema Panopticum is a shorter book – took me 20-something minutes to flip it through. An intriguing collection of five short horror stories, drawn in line with Ott's unique style. No words used at all, the book is a classy silent movie in comic book format – and not a Chaplin one, but rather Eisenstein's or Vertov's. The content of the stories is quite Kafkian, to say the least, form and plot – and I wonder whether The Champion story was influenced by any chance by Guy Maddin's La Sombra Dolorosa short. Hm.

Absolutely enjoyable and fun.

 


Exterior Noche by Gipi

Made a quick revision of my comic book shelf (actually, shelves) just to realize I have 3 unread books by Gipi, an Italian author, translated into Spanish. Bought them in FNAC in Madrid maybe 5-6 years ago – and hasn't opened so far.

Started with Exterior Noche, a collection of six unrelated short stories – and boy, do they look awesome. Probably one of the most original and artsy comic books I have ever seen.

Stories are dark, delinquent related experiences, pure life without a long well-developed plot – rather, to find a proper comparison, they are pieces of raw flesh cut out and left there bleeding.

The multilayered style is also one of a kind. Beautiful dark blue background drawn in oil, with further pencil-like ugly faces added on top – Gipi himself says that he made sure no-one (especially women) looked anywhere close to sexy or handsome in his work.

I have Apuntes para una Historia de Guerra and Los Inocentes to read further – and now I definitely will.

 


TECHNO Муха TECHNO Цокотуха Сергея Зхуса

Почему я читаю такой трэш? Нет ответа, видимо прет. Первая книжка Зхуса, найдена на полке, тираж 50 экземпляров. Последняя-то – в киндле бесплатно почти. Почему? Ну а почему нет?

Выбрал наименее трэш, ох.

Подайте эту, с тоненьким лицом.

И заверните в цедру красоты.

О да! Какие розовые туфли!

Вонзите их сюда же, в мавзолей.

Сиянье глаз постыдно вы забыли

К чудовищной покупке приложить.

 


Fair Weather by Joe Matt

Liked Joe Matt so much, decided to read another book of his this Sunday evening – a short comic memoir about his childhood called Fair Weather.

Turned out to be an easy going 100-or-so pageturner about two boys' weekend in suburban Pennsylvania. So charming, it reminded me a few Soviet childhood stories I read as a boy in late 80s – written in the post war Soviet Union, 50s to 70s, I guess, about kids looking for potential spies or exploring neighborhood basements etc etc. All those Soviet young commie propaganda authors long forgotten by all but myself. [sigh]

My honest opinion: this is a perfect comic book for a teenager to read – and can be as perfect for a grumpy old fellow like me who smiled sadly remembering his childhood long gone. Too much swearing for a children's book, some parents might say – oh well, I did swear as well as a youngster, if I remember correctly. Bikes, swearing and ножички, that was cool. Oh youth.

 


The Poor Bastard by Joe Matt

Joe Matt is merciless to himself – and I guess, gets more and more so with each book he writes (draws). The Poor Bastard precedes Spent, Matt's well known book depicting his lifelong addiction to masturbation and porn – and Bastard is from pre-Spent times, when Joe had girlfriends or aspired to have them at least.

The funniest is chapter 1, no doubt, The Girl from Ipanema story, describing Joe's big time crush on his girlfriend's Trish co-worker named Frankie – and how Trish finds out about this from a comic strip. Classic.

Funniest about it is that it turned out to be not a fictitious character – I did enjoy reading the interview with the original Frankie girl, who also found out about her being Joe's crush from this book.

Insecure and picky about girls' looks, Matt keeps on trying to find his one and only in bold and unsavvy moves. Overall, sheer fun. Sveta from Ivanovo отдыхает.