Showing posts with label gardens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gardens. Show all posts

Monday, July 20, 2015

Summer Notes

July is racing by. I was wondering when the brutal summer heat would finally appear and today, it settled on our doorsteps. I no longer gallivant about in it like I used to; age and health have a way of finally impressing better sense on some of us at least, so I made sure my trips outdoors today were brief. This blog post will be like those trips, brief and full of little snippets.

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Counternarratives continues to receive reviews, and very good ones, for which I am extremely thankful. In addition to the slowly gathering ratings on Goodreads (thank you!), an excellent review recently appeared in Bookforum. Written by Max Nelson, it offered a distinctive, affirmative, nuanced critical take on the book. One thing I really appreciate about the piece was his discussion of the collection's prose. Here's the opening snippet:
The American author John Keene writes sentences that begin in states of tight restraint, steadily loosen, unravel, sprawl or expand, and then—in their last few beats—contract suddenly into piercingly acute points. One such sentence comes two-thirds of the way into an epically named story, “Gloss on A History of Roman Catholics in the Early American Republic, 1790-1825; Or the Strange History of Our Lady of the Sorrows,” included in Keene’s remarkable new short fiction collection Counternarratives. The sentence conveys—among other things—one of the story’s grimmest plot twists. A dead, unidentified newborn has been found at a secluded convent in early-nineteenth-century Kentucky. None of the nuns or students could have been responsible, two schoolgirls decide among themselves, because “none of them could possibly have been with child.”
I thank Max Nelson, and invite you to savor his critical acumen and prose, which are quite artful themselves!

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As an entrant to their annual award, Larry Dark at The Story Prize invited me to contribute a short post about Counternerratives for its blog site, so I tried to think of something I had not yet discussed extensively in interviews or public conversations, but which has come up in reviews. What I thought about was the music of the prose in many of the stories, and here is the link to what I wrote, keeping under the 750-word limit: "John Keene's Hidden Soundtrack."
If you were to place any book against your ear, what would you hear? Unless it were an audiobook, very likely nothing behind the sound of paper on skin, along with background ambient sound. One aspect of my collection Counternarratives that surprises me when I reread it, however, is that each story's prose contains an internal music and rhythmicality specific to that text, and both function in complementary, productive ways in relation to the stories' narration. I find myself surprised because when I was writing the stories, I was not consciously considering this element of my prose, yet somewhere in my subconscious, I apparently was scoring and setting pitches. Additionally, among the thirteen stories in the collection, only two specifically explore the lives of musicians, and in only one of these, "Cold," which recounts the final day in the life of the minstrel composer and performer Bob Cole, was I intentionally attempting to convey what the composer's music might have sounded like.
There's more, along with sharp pieces by many others at the Story Prize's blog and website.

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I had never before set up Google Alerts, but did so recently, and given my ineptitude with online technology, it has not alerted me to a single new thing that regular Googling or searching Twitter also reveals. The other day, via Google's standard search tool, I happened upon a beautiful mention of Counternarratives and Annotations (!) by the acclaimed writer Maud Casey in the Washington City Paper, in a column focusing on what local DC-area writers are reading this summer. Casey mentions that she is currently reading Maggie Nelson's highly acclaimed The Argonauts, and then says:

The book I’m in the middle of is Helen MacDonald’s H is for Hawk, a raw, beautiful, elegiac love story involving a ginormous goshawk. The book I’ll be reading next is John Keene’s collection of stories and a novella, Counternarratives. His first novel, Annotations, blew me away, and Counternarratives looks to be as nimble and strange and awesome. James Baldwin wrote, “The purpose of art is to lay bare the questions hidden beneath the answers” and Keene—and Nelson and MacDonald—do that. I’m very pro-questions these days.
Talk about fine company! Many thanks to Maud Casey for the shot out!

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Some of last week's harvest from the garden. The blackberries are thriving, though smaller than in prior years. All of the other plants are also thriving. Caterpillars are eating the collard greens, so we'll have to find a non-toxic solution to get rid of them. Any suggestions are welcome.


Thursday, June 05, 2014

Scenes of Marseille & Montpellier

The James Baldwin: Transatlantic Commuter conference at the Université Paul-Valéry, Montpellier, has begun, and I'll post some photos from it tomorrow, but here are a few photos from Marseille, into which I flew yesterday, and Montpellier, where the conference is taking place. I'll note about the journey only that the plane I was to fly on from JFK was struck by lightning as it was arriving in New York, which meant that before we could take off it was grounded for hours until the repair crew could assure themselves and the pilots that everything was working well. That meant a horribly delayed flight into Toronto, sprints across two airports to make flights, and so on. Not for the faint-hearted.

But so it was, and I got to Marseille in one piece, took the train to Montpellier, settled in, and began the conference this morning, excited to be among the Baldwinophiles. It has been an excellent experience so far, especially meeting new people and seeing old colleagues, hearing Baldwin's famous biographer, David Leeming, offer personal anecdotes about the writer, and noting the smart, contemporary scholarship on one of America's greatest writers. Amidst this academic conversations I also got in a quick walking tour (to get a plug adapter) across Montpellier's old city, a visit to the Jardin des Plantes, and dinner one of the liveliest art gallery-tapas restaurants, located in a former pharmacy school, that I've ever set foot in. Well, it's the only art-gallery-tapas restaurant I've set foot in, but I'm glad I did. Some photos:

On the plane: Mike Tyson's Undisputed Truth
screening under "Avant Garde" films! 
Marseille from the sky

Marseille from the highway
At the train station
Arles, Van Gogh's and Gauguin's
one-time home, along the route from
Marseille to Montpellier 
Montpellier's aviary-church-like
main rail station 
The ancient gate leading to
the Rue de l'Université
The former Ursuline Convent, now
a center for dance 
One of the numerous old,
winding streets of Montpellier 
A protest facing the Préfecture 
Soft sculptures in a
courtyard 
A colloquy 
L'Opéra Comédie
On a Montpellier street
Église St. Pierre 
An allée of cypresses at the Jardin des Plantes
A statue honoring the founder
of Montpellier's Jardin des Plantes
A bamboo thicket in the
Jardin des Plantes 
A lily pond in the Jardin des Plantes 
A greenhouse (closed), housing
cactuses and succubuses 
Bougainvillea 
A tree of wishes
(it was quite full of them)
The tram line
The roofs of Montpellier 
The St. Pierre Church from on high 
Ubiquitous graffiti
Wall art (graffiti)
A tunnel-like street


Night life

Out and about