На Нью-Йорк мчатся орды Чингисхана Саши Гальпера
Posted: September 25, 2011 Filed under: Poetry | Tags: Books, English, Galper, Poetry, Russian Leave a comment
В Фаланстере наткнулся на сборник стихов Саши Гальпера – у меня один уже где-то дома валялся, “про генсеков и гомосеков” – ну и не купить книжку, состоящую только из семи стихов на двух языках (перевод на английский – отдельный рассказ) и выпущенную тиражом 100 экземпляров, я, конечно, не мог. Плюс, конечно, несколько замечательных картиночек к тексту.
Гальпер по обыкновению безобразен и весел – вот такую поэзию и хочется покупать и читать – Родионов, Емелин, Могутин и далее по списку – оказывается, у него только что еще один сборник вышел – длинный, не 24, а целых 32 (!!) страницы. Все, еду в Фаланстер опять )))
Ну и обязательный стишок – в этот раз, фотографией, чтобы картинка видна была.
The Stronger by August Strindberg
Posted: September 15, 2011 Filed under: Theater / Drama | Tags: Books, English, Strindberg, Theater Leave a comment
The Stronger is probably the shortest theater play I’ve ever read – a kind of short story one-act play. Autobiographical for Strindberg, as some historians claim. Not sure why the forgiving wife is stronger than the abandoned lover – well, maybe Strindberg’s wife was.
And, some universal wisdom from the great playwright: “I didn’t dare have you for an enemy, so I became your friend.”
The Russian Journal by John Steinbeck
Posted: September 13, 2011 Filed under: Documentary | Tags: Books, English, Robert Capa, Steinbeck Leave a comment
John Steinbeck’s the Russian Journal turned out to be absolute fun to read – both style and content. The guy is witty, and witty and smart-alec is what we like.
And, man, looks like certain things will never change around here
His problem was this: his chauffeur drove him very well, but when he was not driving him, he was driving anyone else who was willing to pay a hundred roubles for a short trip. His chauffeur was getting very rich, and the car was taking a beating. There was nothing to do about it, for if he complained his chauffeur was likely to sulk a little bit, and when his chauffeur sulked, something went wrong with his car, and when something went wrong with his car, it was laid up in a garage for two or three weeks. It was better to keep his chauffeur happy if he wanted to be driven in his own car at all. He had tried getting other chauffeurs, but always the same thing happened.
Also, I guess under current circumstances, post a small war that took place exactly 60 years after this book was written, the praise of Georgia as the best place in the FSU looks a bit sad – but it is what it is.
“The people of Georgia seemed to us more relaxed than any we had seen so far, relaxed, and fierce, and full of joy. And perhaps this is why the Russians admire them so. Perhaps this is the way they would like to be.”
“It is a magical place, Georgia, and it becomes dream-like the moment you have left it. And the people are magic people. It is true that they have one of the richest and most beautiful countries in the world, and they live up to it. And we understood thoroughly now why Russians had always said to us, “Until you have seen Georgia, you have seen nothing.””
Given I read this on Stanza and not in paper, I am now after my Capa’s Phaidon portfolio book to check out on the Russian pics. And – I know what I’m gonna try to read next now – Esperando a Robert Capa by Susana Fortes, Capa’s recent fictionalized biography.
The death of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave (finale)
Posted: September 10, 2011 Filed under: Fiction | Tags: Books, David Mamet, English, Irvine Welsh, Nick Cave Leave a comment
Part 3: Deadman
Strangely enough, Cave turned out to be quite a thrilling read. I know it resembles Welsh a lot, by both content and to certain extent style, but still, quite gripping. Part 3 is madness and rage, death and repent. Oh well.
The death of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave (continued)
Posted: September 4, 2011 Filed under: Fiction | Tags: Books, David Mamet, English, Irvine Welsh, Nick Cave Leave a commentPart 2: Salesman
I keep on slowly turning the pages – while part 1 was all Irvine Welsh and stuff, now, part 2 is all Glengarry Glen Ross, which I like like like like like like like. Basic rules of the trade, sonny. Ain’t no John Galt – simply put – I want your dollar, I want your dime. Goes on like this:
‘It’s like this, Bunny Boy: if you walk up to an oak tree or a bloody elm or something – you know, one of those big bastards – one with a thick, heavy trunk with giant roots that grow deep in the soil and great branches that are covered in leaves, right, and you walk up to it and give the tree a shake, well, what happens?’ […]
‘I really don’t know, Dad,’ says Bunny Junior, listening intently, retaining the information and knowing, in time, he will probably understand.
‘Well, nothing bloody happens, of course!’ says Bunny, and he slows the Punto to a halt. ‘You can stand there shaking it till the cows come home and all that will happen is your arms will get tired. Right?’ […]
‘But if you go up to a skinny, dry, fucked-up little tree, with a withered trunk and a few leaves clinging on for dear life, and you put your hands around it and shake the shit out of it – as we say in the trade – those bloody leaves will come flying off! Yeah?’
‘OK, Dad,’ says the boy, and he watches as one of the youths pulls back the edge of his hood and reveals a white hockey mask with a human skull printed on it.
‘Now, the big oak tree is the rich bastard, right, and the skinny tree is the poor cunt who hasn’t got any money. Are you with me?’
PS:
For those who want to steal the book (in Russian) – here’s flibusta link.
For those who want to buy – awesome iPad App on iTunes.
I did both )))
The death of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave
Posted: September 3, 2011 Filed under: Fiction | Tags: Books, English, Nick Cave Leave a commentNick Cave – definitely a better singer than novelist. Still…
Part 1: Cocksman
Funny how Cave tackles Kylie in the book
“Bunny turns on the radio and Kylie Minogue’s hit ‘Spinning Around’ comes on, and he can’t believe his luck and feels a surge of almost limitless joy as the squelching, teasing synth starts and Kylie belts out her orgiastic paean to buggery and he thinks of Kylie’s gold hot pants, those magnificent gilded orbs, which makes him think of riding River the waitress’s large, blanched backside, his belly full of sausages and eggs, back up in the hotel room, and he begins singing along, ‘I’m spinning around, move out of my way, I know you’re feeling me ’cause you like it like this’, and the song seems to be coming out of all the windows of all the cars in all the world, and the beat is pounding like a motherfucker”
A bit on this in his interview
PS: official site
nomiresdebajodelacama 