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| I have, of late, experienced a resurgence of creativity. This extends to the literary, musical and culinary realms and on its account I am well pleased. It has been my good fortune to have read some excellent books. Their splendor is concentrated by my plowing through them, and this out of necessity. Today I also rented a violin from the wonderful Long and McQuade. The financial arrangement for this is so incredible that I feel as though I've stolen it. How can such inspiration and gratification come at so small a price? And finally feeding myself has become something of an adventure. A stomach tube would still certainly be more epedient, but I no longer advocate the theory of it the way I once did. Does all this coincide with my having become a temporary pseudo-vegan? It could very well be. Grad school has seduced and abandoned me. | | |
|  | Currently Watching
Fateless
By Marcell Nagy, Béla Dóra, Bálint Péntek, Áron Dimény, Péter Fancsikai
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I first heard of Imre Kertész in 2002, upon his winning the Nobel Prize for literature. A professor of mine mentioned this in a Holocaust Lit. class. Since then I've obtained a copy of Kertész's 'Kaddish For a Child Not Born'. It's a tiny book, but it sits on the shelf unread due mostly to its ungainly grammatical structure. Then again, as preoccupied as I am about the subject, I am invariably daunted by forays into material that I know will so strongly impact and grieve me. Hence my reluctance to watch 'Fateless'. This film is beautifully done, subtle and profound. Having finished, I feel at once both inconsolable and hopeful. My class in '02 was a night class in which I knew no one. I came away every week feeling heavy and isolated. I lacked the means to debrief everything. Just as now, even if there were willing ears, I don't have the words. During an interview in 2002, Kertész said "Auschwitz is my greatest treasure. The closeness to death is unforgettable. Life was never so beautifu as in this long moment." | | |
| There will be incidents that stop you short, that will make everything else you hold them up against seem artificial. And you will want to stop time, to climb into them and to dwell there. They will encase an inferno inside of you. You will search without success for a way to memorialize them and honor them. But ultimately you will be estranged from them while you still carry them inside you. This is what Kazik's memoirs have done. | | |
| "And the things that keep us apart keep me alive, the things that keep me alive keep me alone." ~ I've just read "Memoirs of a Warsaw Ghetto Fighter" by Simha "Kazik" Rotem. It is a small book, a book that kept me transfixed and left me deeply sad when I'd finished. But it may be the greatest book I've ever read. | | |
| Somebody thinks I should xanga more. So... On my way home I came across a sign which read 'Caution, ice falling overhead'. There were indeed chunks of ice on the ground around it and yet above it was nothing but blue sky. Ominous? My job is such that people give me cookies, chocolates, fruit and painstakingly hand-made Chinese New Year party invitations. I seek community where it can be found. Occasionally I miss Three Hills. I miss regularly seeing people I recognize. And a few particular people come to mind. Over the weekend I found a recipe for beer bread. Not only is this recipe fast and simple, but the resultant bread comes out tasty and well textured. Next I plan to add spinach and feta cheese. See, beer isn't all bad. Lastly I note that neither Oprah nor the silver screen have any influence on my book choices. I'm also reading the recipient of the Giller this year, and the diaries Etty Hillesum. Garcia Marquez is the clear front runner at this point. There's also a debacle brewing with Eva Hoffman, but that's a story for another time. | | |
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