Today: Pseudo Society

Today's the big day -- eek! Wouldn't you know I would have Phyllis Diller hair today. Oh well, maybe it will make people laugh. I'm in the computer lab printing out yet another version of the paper because I keep fussing with it. I should just leave it alone, but somehow I can't quite do so. Wish me luck!

Off to Kazoo

Tomorrow I hit the road for Kalamazoo fairly early, so I thought it best to write now in case I don't get a chance to do so then (and to give myself a break from the last minute edits et. al. that have been bedeviling me today). Extra stressful this time because 1) I have done too much travel this semester (and it ain't over yet) and 2) I am giving a paper in the Pseudo Panel.

For those of you who have never heard of it (that's most of you, I suppose), this is a traditional panel at the big Medieval Congress in which people give fake papers in the hopes of being funny. Saturday night, standing room only crowds, high expectations -- I never thought I would get on the panel, so I'm more than a bit terrified that my paper will fail to be funny and I get more and more nervous as I think about it. Somehow, I will survive.

Oddly enough, there seems to be a good deal of humor associated with Kazoo and medievalists, some of it from unexpected places, some from the usual suspects. I just hope it goes all right. Meanwhile, I have two finals today!

Forging Folklore

I knew things were looking good when I found a parking spot right in front of Raven Books in Harvard Square Thursday (especially since it's right next door to Planet Records). There was even 24 minutes left on the meter and only an hour left to cover (meter time ends at 6, so I was set for the night). I had a little time to browse before the reception to open the conference, so I made the most of it, but only bought one book (!) that day (let's not talk about McIntyre and Moore).

I was surprised to walk into the reception and immediately run into Joe Harris, whose course on Eddic Poetry at Harvard was an important formative experience for me (especially being then still an employee and not a "real" student); plus he's a great guy, creative and thoughtful. He was eager to know what I was up to and we had a good time chatting. I hunted up Peg Aloi, whom I had found to be an Albany neighbor as well as co-organizer of the conference. She was talking to keynote speaker Ronald Hutton, who also proved to be charming and approachable. I did kid him about Kylie and he was a good sport about it though it clearly was not what he had hoped to have happen in the program. We chatted quite a while, although many other people also wished to speak. I must say Hutton was quite generous with his time and attention -- sometimes keynote speakers come in for their piece and then leave, but he attended panels right up to the time he had to be spirited off to Logan. Good form!

Alas, Cheryl, I did not think of bringing books for him to sign! Ah, well. Another time perhaps.

Peg and Hannah Johnston put together a comprehensive conference with intellectual rigor and a wide variety of viewpoints that often led to spirited debate. They are to be congratulated for their hard work and thoughtful leadership. Thanks, too, go to Stephen Mitchell and Holly Hutchison from the Folklore and Mythology program at Harvard who sponsored and supported the conference (and Holly took care of the innumerable problems that always crop up in the midst of things -- kudos to her!). Stephen is, of course, the reason I became a medievalist. When I read Beowulf and Njal's Saga in his course on Northern Germanic Heroic Traditions everything changed. I've not been the same since!

My presentation seemed to go well; I was so nervous! I'm used to giving papers, but this was a little different. I've played my kantele in front of groups, but never in front of scholars. And I sang -- yes, me. It wasn't terrible (or so they told me) and it fit with what I was saying about Finnish magic traditions and the music of Värttinä. The audience really responded to the curses in particular, but the love charms got a good laugh as well. I will perhaps put the paper up here for folks to read if they have any interest (though of course it will lack the sound aspects). I may be writing up an account of the conference elsewhere, so I'll let you all know.

Travel within New England usually provides a chance to see friends and this trip was no exception. Thanks to Minna, Steve and Bowen for giving me a refuge in the expensive ambience of Boston. Too bad we didn't have more time for kantele duets! Much to my surprise, Bilokur did actually show and I got to see his latest project which looks like it has a lot of potential. The set up may sound more like a joke (okay, so there's a rabbi with a surfboard...) but it has a serious aim even if it makes you laugh, too (as all truly serious things ought to do). On the way back, I made the detour to CT to meet up with the Boojums and Miss Wendy for Cinco de Mayo celebrations at Cinco de Mayo, where we regaled neighboring tables with chat about turn of the century New Britain orphan deaths, cemetery tours and any number of charming topics. Then it was off to Aloha Alcohula, the world's best and most exclusive tiki bar to see the QOE, Johnny 10X and Marko (fez-less but destructive -- we told you it was going to break). Conversation ricocheted from waxing nostalgic about D.O.T.'s pantsless performances and the transformations of the El and Gee, to picking on Marko and viewing the Queen's latest crafty print (wicked cool). Then Miss Wendy and I stayed up late watching Enchanted April and gabbing as we do. A lazy Sunday morning, then back on the road to home, to see how much email had piled up in my absence and to be fawned over by Kipper and my sweetie. I slept like a rock last night and came in to my office this morning to face a stack of work. Argh.

Wednesday, I'm off again -- this time to Kalamazoo for the annual pilgrimage. Whew! Starting June 8, I'm going to be more stationary -- no, really.

Cambridge Bound

Hey, what's on Cute Overload today? Baby turtle?!

Off to Beantown this afternoon for the conference at Harvard with my kantele by my side, and a bunch of cds. We shall see how it goes -- if nothing else, it will be fun! I get to see Ronald Hutton (but will Kylie be singing in the background as she is during his interviews on Historyonics?).

Of course, the nice thing about a trip to the East is that I get to see friends in the Boston area, then in Connecticut on the swing back.

Better yet, it's the last day of classes --- whooohooo! Well, there's still finals, but that's less stress for me, and only revisions to grade for the most part.

Vappu

Not surprisingly, Helsingin Sanomat had some photos and a story on Vappu (May Day celebrations) in Helsinki yesterday. Although most people seemed to have fun, it appears that, "Portable toilet facilities were vandalised in Kaivopuisto on Monday night." Somehow I imagine teens spray-painting Lordi logos all over (although the band itself is notoriously well regarded). It's spring -- what can you do?

May Day with Jodorowsky

Today is the big day!

After thirty years or more of wrangling, ABKCO films releases the big box set of Alejandro Jodorowsky's films including El Topo and Holy Mountain. Once touted by people like John and Yoko, Jodorowsky's films have been more talked about than seen since the brouhaha with rights began, so this package brings these stories once more to a wide audience.

How to describe them? Or even Jodorowsky himself? One of the later surrealists, he dedicated himself to using art for both psychological and spiritual means as well as artistic. His films explore the ways we encounter the disruptions of life on a grand scale. His obsessions with mystic visions and physical deformity bring a strange ambience to his surreal cinematic works, like a strange melding of Todd Browning and Maya Deren. El Topo explores mysticism through the spaghetti western (and along the way critiques the construction of masculinity in Western culture) while Holy Mountain dives even deeper into the mystic to confront the horrors of modern life with a surrealistic spin that anticipates the complaisant acceptance of post-modernism (and this in the mid-1970s!).

The box also includes the seldom seen Fando y Lis as well as the soundtracks for both of the better known films. The images are crisp and clear and will be a revelation to those who have only seen the films via third generation bootlegs or much-worn 35mm. The films still pack a whallop* even all these years later. Vision is such a rare quality.

*Gentle viewers may want to be warned that films from this time period did not have the same RSPCA/ASPCA requirements. Much of the animal carnage is not simulated, which can be rather gruesome.

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On an unrelated note, Elena continues her Wombat spoofing at Humorous Maxiumus. Go check out her comics for a good chuckle (any day!).

Spoofed!

Hee hee -- a badge of honor: we have been spoofed in Elena's very fine comic strip, The Goth Scouts, today. Whoo hoo -- we join the ranks of other proud spoofees like most of the Bush entourage (in a less kindly way), Johnny 10X and the joey Zone.

It's Walpurgisnacht (well, Walpurgismorgen?) which of course makes me think of the story I wrote with that title, which led me to a very nice comment about that story. Tomorrow is May Day, but I actually celebrated with friends yesterday at Peebles Island State Park (nice to have such a lovely park so nearby!). We even had a Maypole to dance around which, after a few glitches, weaved together nicely (I didn't think to take pictures, but here's the Bloomington Quarry Morris Dancers' finished Maypole). We even had a spiral dance that did not devolve into chaos (!) and, of course, lots of delicious food.

After that, sadly, I had to come home and grade. Ah well -- can't celebrate all the time.

Review: Hot Fuzz

We have been waiting a long time for this movie to be released, so it's a bit ironic that we didn't get around to seeing it until a week after its release. Life intrudes. But it was so worth the wait! We loved the previous Pegg and Wright projects Shaun of the Dead (aka the romantic comedy with zombies) and Spaced (the best surreal, pop culture-fueled sitcom ever), so it was a good guess that we'd like their cop spoof as well. I was laughing so hard tears came to my eyes. Yes, it was that good.

The first few minutes are a wild ride of "spot the British comedian" with uber-serious, robotic PC Nicholas Angel finding his superb record of accomplishments has made the rest of the force look bad, as his immediate superior (Martin Freeman) points out. Refusing to believe that he would be transferred to a tiny country village for doing well, he asks to speak to his superior's superior, who turns out to be Steve Coogan (uncredited as far as I could tell) who then appeals to his superior, (played by the always wonderful Bill Nighy). The list of who's who goes on and on (some nice surprises, like Bill Bailey), but it's just one highlight.

Of course at the center of the film is Simon Pegg, playing against type, and Nick Frost who has a lot more puppy-like sweetness to his oafish sidekick than in their pairing in Shaun (Ed might have been hilarious, but he wasn't very lovable). While Nicholas has lived the life of the action hero, Danny has only seen the films. Their unlikely friendship builds as Nick tries to learn the ropes of village life and Danny, whose position seems to rest on his father being chief of police, finds he has a lot more to offer than anyone thought.

Which could be any cop/buddy picture, but they're spoofing the whole genre -- and it works. It works because they know the genre, just like in Shaun of the Dead, which was one long homage to their favorite horror films, but also because they make a satisfying story in the genre that is both gut-bustingly funny (whodathunkit? Timothy Dalton is a hoot) and an exciting action film. The attention to detail is key; everything that seems to be there just for a laugh has a payoff, even the casting of Edward Woodward (but don't click that link unless you want a subtle spoiler). As you might expect from the zombie fans, the moments of horror are truly gruesome yet inevitably funny, too.

I highly recommend it -- you'll laugh so hard, but you'll also get caught up in the story. Keep your eye on the swan and don't forget to water your peace lilly.

Hélène Cixous

It was a delight to go hear Cixous read at SUNY Albany last night. My colleague and I arrived early and got parking. There was even time to run to the library to pick up a book I wanted. I was reluctant to cut short my grad class (AKA my reason to go on living this semester--let's not talk about the freshman class who make me pull my hair out) but I knew I would regret passing up a chance to see this inspiring scholar/writer who seems to effortlessly accomplish so much.

It took no time at all for the room to be packed. We had the usual rambling introduction from the permanently rumpled Donald Faulkner (like I should talk), then a second introduction (whose name I did not catch) who tried to fit a lifetime of scholarship into a few paragraphs. Cixous read first from her autobiographical book The Day I Wasn't There, a section focusing on the memory of seeing a three-legged dog in the bois on May Day (Abandonment day) that looked like a "Tintin dog" [hence the picture of Milou above] and eagerly searched faces for a place to belong. Cixous of course reflected somewhat ambivalently on this moment; born in Algeria, stripped of French citizenship during the war because she was a Jew, living and celebrated now in France, she does not have a "home" as she corrected a questioner later. "Ask Beckett," she said by way of explanation, mentioning other writers who found themselves in exile for one reason or another.

After reading a couple of dreams from another book ("we should not read dreams in translation, but we will") she anwered questions about her writing process. She is so precise about everything, it was interesting to hear that she writes "like a painter," longhand at a desk full of "tens, no, hundreds, no, thousands, no, tens of thousands" of scraps of paper of all sizes with 50 or so pens and pencils. For ten hours or more at a stretch, she just writes and writes "with the sun" -- such luxury! My colleague and i were talking about how hard it is to imagine having that kind of time to write (and whether we could use it--shades of the writer's colony!). "I have about four computers, but they're all virtual."

I am glad I went to hear her read, to hear her speak. It has filled me with hope again after a rather discouraging couple of weeks or so. To hear her speak with such confidence, self-assurance -- never arrogant, not that, but certainty that her writing is important, that she will find herself in good company with Hugo and Flaubert. I think we tend to lack that sense of history in our writing in this country, that there's a discomfort with the same past that Cixous feels herself to be in active dialogue with as she writes. Speaking of Hugo's careful columns (writing on the right, corrections on the left, "and there were almost none!") and Flaubert's endless rewriting, revisions of single sentences, Cixous was clear that she fit into neither extreme: "I am idiosyncratic, untranslatable." Though, of course, she has been translated many times. In fact one of her translators was there that night, prompting Cixous to say "translators are heroes" as well as "adoptive mothers." In the end, "we are all translators," trying to get wht is in our heads to others as precisely as possible. Writing, revision--I was intrigued by her simple assurance that in writing, like music, you can always hear the "false note." I would like to think so, but I guess I doubt myself too much to feel that same sense of confidence. Something for me to work on. Cixous is a great example for an unapologetic intellectual in the 21st century who simply works to the best of her ability and has confidence that her work is worth doing.

Prose at the Rose -- on the Air!

Listen to the first broadcast of my new show hosted at the internet radio station at the College of Saint Rose. I'm interviewing Hudson Valley Writer's Guild president, Donna Miller, about the Guild and about her writing. I haven't had a chance to hear it yet, and probably won't as I have my usual crazy Tuesday schedule and Hélène Cixous tonight (more on that later). Although the schedule for the program will be irregular for a while, it will be an on-going series.

Not My Job

As I sit here regretting that I ever volunteered myself to take a group of students to London next month and dealing with all the endless details that go with it, I realise it's part of an overall sense of exhaustion that's making me pull back from things I really don't need to be doing. Among them:

Correcting someone online who names the wrong group as performer of a 60s pop song;

Pointing out to someone (again, online) that when Hamlet says something is "a consummation devoutly to be wished" he is talking about death and oblivion;

Arguing with someone (on yet another online list) that pro-2nd amendment sites may not be the most "fair and balanced" sources re: gun control.

I do have work to be doing, yet it is also a gorgeous Earth Day and the temptation is to be outside ignoring all this work. Maybe it's just time to remind myself again that I don't have to do everything, I don't have to be responsible for everybody and ignorance is my job only in the classroom. I don't like to see it elsewhere, but sometimes I just have to let it go. It's the law of diminishing returns, and besides, no one else cares about these things. Think of it as trying to avoid becoming too much like Bottom.

I don't have to play all the parts just because I have ideas for them. I do not need to say, "Take pains; be perfect: adieu." Instead, let us say, "take pains, but be reasonable, be seeing you."

A Blow on a Bruise

Campuses across the country are reeling still from the worst gun massacre in the country (the horror is that we must add a silent "so far"). We struggle to understand, stagger to find there were people we had met (the world gets smaller and smaller) and try, in vain, to understand. All those lives, those lights cut short -- and the call for anger, for vengeance, for sorrow. Sanctimonious leaders ask us to pray while they close their eyes to legislation that might make it a little more difficult for a troubled person to amass an arsenal without flags being raised. Instead they'll continue to leech rights from the innocent, all in the name of protecting us, as they have done for the last six year, and the numbing pain continues.

This incident has particular repercussions for those of us in the education field -- yes, particularly those of us in English Departments, and even more, those who teach creative writing. One of the shooter's fellow classmates posted his writings -- a highly suspect thing to do regardless of one's honorable motives -- and there was a deluge of comments about how clear it was that he was disturbed and his teachers were negligent in not recommending him for counseling (the latter not true).

Ridiculous: shall we lock up anyone who writes horror novels and films with their "really twisted, macabre violence"? Let's get Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez behind bars now! Here's the thing -- and it's a little thing called imagination. It has a lot of power. But power can be used for any aim. I had a student in one creative writing course who wrote macabre horror where she killed her boss over and over in imaginative ways. It was a good outlet for dealing with a boss who treated her with disdain in a job she could not afford to lose. Imagination has the power to help us transcend the pain and loss of our lives. We need to use it, not hound it out of existence.

The world is not a safe place; the world will never be a safe place. Let's not hide behind our locked doors, regulate every inch of our bodies and live in festering darkness. Honor those who are gone with light and hope.

Water Foul

Hey -- our basement's flooded so the hot water heater's pilot has been put out. Our landlord's down there now (I'm sure it's just how he pictured his Sunday night) snaking out the drain to see if it will clear the water. All the rain flowing down our hill in its search for the Hudson decided to make a detour and flood us. At least it can only get a few inches high before pouring out the door and toward the road (and better yet, that the furnace is above water level, so we have heat). Looks like a job for Kuan Yin!

The good news is I got a call from Laurel who had called me last week from the ICU to say she was going to miss PCA. Relieved to know that she's much improved and sounds like her usual self. I cheered her by saying that her tale even beat out the panelist who came late to her session, apologizing with "I was hit by a truck."

Life's a dangerous thing.

Give it up for Lent!

One of the pleasures of this year's PCA was presentation of the Interplanetary Journal of Comic Art to its inspiration, international comics scholar John Lent. While I couldn't attend myself (due to chairing another panel at the same time, argh!) everyone took pictures of Gene and Wendy presenting the posters (including one of the back cover by Ralph Steadman [fan girl moment, "I'm in a book with Ralph Steadman!"]) and the festschrift to John, who was apparently touched almost beyond words. When I saw him shortly after he was still sparkling with joy. His wife Ying said that he stayed up late that night reading it cover to cover. Comics folks from around the world contributed to this hilarious book in honor of the man who really forged a trail in comics scholarship. Kudos to Mike Rhode for doing all the hard work of coordination, editing and whip cracking over the slow contributors.

Prose at the Rose

I taped (er -- digitized, I guess) my first espisode of a new show that will appear on Saint Rose's Internet Radio Station. While it doesn't get access to the traditional airwaves, it will be accessible anywhere on the 'net. I'll let you all know when it is up. We do have a logo! I need to get a blurb written for Fred Antico, my colleague in Communications, but soon it will be live.



And you'd be surprised at the other luminaries in the Saint Rose ether...

Waaah!

We didn't hear until this morning -- the world is a poorer place without his singular voice. Which was the first book for me? Maybe Slaughterhouse Five, maybe Sirens of Titan, but surely Breakfast of Champions was my introduction to the post-modern before I knew there was a name for it. I remember Emfinger writing in my high school yearbook, "Always read Vonnegut!" or something along those lines (along with all the other incendiary opinions we shared). One piece of advice I have always heeded over the years. Sigh. So it goes...

Happy Birthday, Gene!

Thanks to Thee joey Zone!

Beer and Loathing at PCA

We were somewhere around Boylston on the edge of the deserted streets when the doubts began to take hold. There were no huge bats swooping and screeching and diving around us, but we had definitely taken a wrong turn. We knew for sure when our pints of Guinness arrived in 12 oz plastic cups. The waitress said "we ran out of mugs," and I expected her to suddenly turn into a vomiting green-hued lizard, but no such luck. We had decided to sally forth to find an alternative to the hotel bar, whose $11 martinis and flowing beer welcomed us the night before, but looted our pockets, too. Besides there was the piano player whose repertoire included bizarre choices like Paul McCartney's "Every Night" that left its mark in my brain for three more days, repeating helplessly the inane chorus, "ooo ooo ooo ooo ooo ooo, ooo ooo, ooo ooo," like a tape loop from the depths of Gehenna.

Our first attempt, however, landed us in what looked like a promisingly inexpensive dive but instead featured plastic beer cups and music that proved deadeningly moronic in its assault. Rabbitting away as soon as the first round was consumed, we reeled around the corner to the more welcoming wooden warmth of Charley's and settled in for more amenable surroundings, the promised beer and the occasional spit-take brought on by just a little too much silliness. Lingering until last call, we had plenty of time to chat with old friends and get to know some new ones. We intrepid few, still wandering abroad afterward sidled over to King's because Miss Wendy was craving some food. She and I had gone to breakfast at Thornton's so we kind of skipped lunch (not to mention playing hooky afterward to go to the Brattle Book Shop) and there had been no real time for dinner. When we finally got back to our hotel around 2 am, our neighbors were having a loud party. Hurrah -- and I had a 7 am meeting to go to. Consequently a little dim and punchy the next morning, but there was a breakfast service with lots of tea, fruit and pastries, so I slowly woke up and recovered some semblance of humanity.

The conference went very well -- about 800 panels over four days. Not a howler in my area, which is always good to see. I checked out some of the comics panels, one horror panel (yawn) and couple of other things, but with so many panels in the area I run (Medieval Popular Culture) there wasn't as much free time as I have had in the past. I had to miss the sword fighting demonstration that I had set up with the help of Amy West of the Higgins Armory Museum because it was opposite one of Gene's presentations, but I suppose it's better to have an abundance of riches. Or so I tried to think as I spent the day grading papers after stretching out the conference to stay at Wendy's Saturday night and Robert's last night (mmmmm, tasty tapas!), so that we finally got home this morning to Kipper's voluble delight.

Three weeks to the next conference -- what was all that noise I made about doing less?

Next: the mind-bending experience that was the Korvac panel...

Publication: Up Against the Wall 6

(When's the last time I let a week go by without a post?! Blame lies on the narrow shoulders of the Midtown Hotel, whose internet service did not in fact work.) I have two reviews in the latest issue of Up Against the Wall, Phil Nutman's magazine of pop culture with teeth. Enjoy -- and yes, there'll be a recap of Boston later (maybe even today).

Oxford: City of Aquatint

Let me get a few of the pictures up if nothing else (Radcliffe Camera pictured above), so you can share a little of the beauty of this medieval center of learning. Oxford and Cambridge were the first universities in England; Chaucer's "Clerk of Oxenford" would likely have learned his trivium and quadrivium and gone into the priesthood. Nowadays, the beauties of Christ Church College at Oxford (below left)are primarily known as Hogwarts in the Harry Potter films.

The time I happened to be there, it was also host to the Oxford Literary Festival (which is how I saw Philip Pullman). But it will always be the home of Alice and Lewis Carroll also. You never know when you might come across just the right rabbit hole (this one found in Christ Church meadow).

As you wander around town, there are endless beauties to see -- in fact, there are endless grotesques, too, which for some of us is at least as much fun. I took a lot of pictures of them (naturally) but this travelogue will have to be spread out over several days, so here's one to start on. If I recall correctly (uh oh, already forgetting where I took what picture) these rams come from St. Mary the Virgin's church.

Neglect

Apologies for being so neglectful of the blogs -- I plead illness and the hectic week that my going away created. We had an all day symposium for the department Thursday which led to increased illness, as I was completely exhausted and feverish by the afternoon. All went well, as far as I could tell, but I ducked out around 4.

I spent yesterday resting or at least trying to do so; many things looming over my head make that difficult. Inevitably there's always too much to do in the latter half of spring term, much of which, yes, I have brought upon myself. The London trip with the students is making me pull out my hair; my paper for next week's conference is not complete. At least my major paper for Kalamazoo was written last fall (if only I were always that early), but I have to edit that paper because it is still too long and finish the second paper (more about that later).

I have pictures from Oxford -- they'll be up soon! It was a wonderful visit and I just can't get enough time in England, particularly Oxford. Hmmm, wonder if they will be needing a new medievalist soon? There's always some kind of stress, eh?

Publication: Palakainen

Almost forgot! While I was gone the issue of New World Finn with my short story "Palakainen" arrived. This is another of the Unikirja stories. I am hoping to complete the collection (at last!) this summer (along with the Anglo-Saxon project).

Home Again

No time to post much today, but I did have a great time, the paper went well, the conference was terrific, and Oxford --

Sigh.

Oxford was great. Must find a way to get back there for a longer visit! In the meantime, visit the Botanic Garden, as I did (yes, of course, to see the ivy), and enjoy.



And for all your finest graphic design needs, why go anywhere else but England's finest design firm, Sequential Design!


(This commercial message brought to you because Brad and Liz and Sophie are always so generous with their home; sorry it was only a whirlwind visit this time, but see you in May!)

Off to Oxford

There will proabably not be time for posts this weekend (including the serial) as I am off to Boston, to catch the plane to Halifax, to catch the plane to Heathrow, to catch the coach to Oxford.

Sounds tiring, eh? Cheap flights have another cost. But at present, cheap flights are the only option (memo to self: play lottery).

I will be giving a paper on Tove Jansson's Moomin comics. The conference looks like it will be much fun. Of course, having the chance to wander around Oxford -- land of Alice, Dodgson, Charles and Sebastian, and for that matter, Alan and Dud -- will be wonderful, too.



Here are some deer in the park next Magdalen College, Oxford (though I'll be at Pembroke).

Welcome Spring -- and Wallace Shawn

Spring takes a little faith when you've still got a foot of snow on the ground; I had to dig a space for my car on campus this morning. Good thing I put the shovel in the car yesterday.

More enjoyable was a chance to see Wallace Shawn at UAlbany yesterday, an event sponsored by the New York State Writer's Institute. I decided that the afternoon seminar might be the better of the two events, and I think I was right. No doubt the evening event was packed, because the recital hall was even in the middle of the afternoon.



After a too long introduction (though to be fair, he has quite a long list of accomplishments) by NYSWI Director Donald Faulkner, there was a sudden moment of awkward silence as he and Shawn each waited for the other to start. No surprise, everyone laughed. That happened a lot, as you might imagine (though if you don't know who Shawn is, which I find inconceivable, check here). Faulkner first asked about the last play he had been doing, The Fever. It had a difficult life and reception, beginning as a monologue performed at friends' houses largely because Shawn sought to remove that distancing effect of theater, such as when people see disturbing scenes and appreciate them only aesthetically. When he finaly decided to do it in a small theater, Shawn decided to hold a cocktail party on stage before the performance begins.

Mental note: next play, write a scene with champagne in it so I, too, can get free bubbly from a fine vintner! and what about some chocolate...?

Not surprisingly, one of the first questions from the audience was regarding My Dinner with Andre, where many of us first saw Shawn.** He spoke about the freewheeling process by which the basic script was developed, then the onerous process of editing down the conversation transcripts into "something with a beginning, middle, end and characters."

Shawn commented on the reception and difficulties of his play Aunt Dan and Lemon. In its first incarnation in London, there had been strong tensions within the cast -- and with him. He was eventually banned from rehearsals. But it went on to a strong reception, despite its worrisome topics, including a character enamored of Nazism. Shawn remarked somewhat ironically that he had yet to have someone come up to him after the play and say "Wow, weren't the Nazis great?" but he frequently had other people come up to him worried that that would happen (presumably with other, more stupid people).

Asked about how he got into acting, Shawn explained that it was all due to his ignorance about how to make a living (he mentions borrowing from friends for a long time, and said you might think there was shame involved in borrowing money from friends, "No.") As for choosing roles, "Well, let's not kid ourselves," he cautioned first, but usually he reads the whole script "and if it's not nauseating, I do it." You'd be surprised, he said, "a lot fit into the nauseating category, most are evil." Even if a film is not too good, it can be fun to make, as long as you don't pass out at the table reading from a truly awful script.

I think one of my grad students was going to the evening event; I'll have to ask how it was. I'll probably regret not going, ah well.

**My story (one last time, I've told this too many times): I went to see this at the Odeon, the first art house film theater I knew. In the unpromising location of the Frandor Mall, it was clearly a labor of love for the guys who ran it. When the audience for this film arrived, the manager came down to the front of the audience to let us know that there was a problem with the third reel. Although the picture was fine, there was no sound for about a minute or so. He unfolded a piece of paper with the dialogue from that section and read it out to us. You can only imagine how strange it sounded out of context: something about being buried alive! The film began and we all forgot about it until the reel started without sound and, naturally, everyone burst out laughing in the middle of the very intense scene. I just love that the theater staff were so fanatical about getting us the whole experience that they created a new one.

Which Goddess are You?

Take the quiz here. Perhaps not too surprisingly, I am:



Athena's brilliance of reason was said to be as penetrating as her clear gray eyes. One of the most powerful of the gods and goddesses, her artistry in all crafts, especially weaving and pottery, was unrivaled. Goddesses with similar attributes include Sarasvati, Sophia and Brigit.

Well, I don't know about pottery! But I can weave words.

This is a lovely image from Kris Waldherr's tarot deck which you can see online.

Good News!

My abstract has been accepted for the "Forging Folklore: Witches, Pagans and Neo-Tribal Cultures" conference at Harvard May 3-5, 2007. I'll be speaking on Finnish magic and music which ought to be entertaining. Of course, I'll find an excuse to bring my kantele along as well. I had planned to attend the conference anyway as it has a great set of folks, including Ronald Hutton who will be keynote speaker Thursday night of the conference.

[image © Timo Kervinen]


The Joey Zone is happy: he got name-checked in Elena's Goth Scout strip on Sunday!

Less good: lack of plowing on campus (and Albany streets) meant I could not find a place to park today, so I finally gave up and came home to work. Good thing I can do almost all my work from home -- except for the office hours. Sorry, students! At least I don't have any meetings scheduled today. Besides, I would have had to leave early for my doctor's appointment anyway. Perhaps tomorrow I need to bring the snow shovel and dig out a parking space for myself. Let's hope the melting starts soon!

Neighborly

We got about a foot of snow since yesterday. I volunteered to go out first and start the shoveling (mostly so Gene could finish it ;-) but we got really fortunate that one of our neighbors was passing by with his snow blower, saw me shoveling and ran a couple of paths each side of the car and then up to the steps where I was shoveling. Made things a lot easier -- what a nice guy!



I was also lucky enough to have the Joey Zone sing his new shoveling-on-St. Patrick's-day song over the phone (no, I can't do it justice here; you'll have to wait for the MP3). Guess I have the luck of the Irish today (the good kind, that is)!

Happy St. Urho Day!

Yes, it is time to celebrate St. Urho, the patron saint of Finland (and Finnish Americans), the man who chased the grasshoppers away from the vineyards of that land, saving the harvest with his pitchfork and the effectively dismissive words, "Heinäsirkka, heinäsirkka, meine täättä hiiteen" or "Grasshopper, grasshopper, get thee hence!"

Wear your purple and green proudly and chase the grasshoppers away today (or that nasty snowstorm that's threatening the northeast today)!

Oh, to be in England

Now that spring and Alan Moore are there --

Moore will be performing at a tribute to the late Robert Anton Wilson this Sunday. In April he will be giving a talk at the Northampton Museum and Art Gallery on"Magical Northampton":

Native psychogeographer, occultist and legendary graphic novel writer Alan Moore was “born in Northampton in 1953 and never left”. Alan will discuss local superstitions, myths and fables recreating the magical landscape of the town and its shire.



I shouldn't complain. I will be heading off to Oxford next week for a whirlwind visit where I'll give a paper on Moomin: The Complete Tove Jansson Comic Strip - Book One. It will be fun to explore the land of Lewis Carroll!

IROSF Boskone Review On Line!

Head on over to the Internet Review of Science Fiction for my write up of Boskone 44 and a whole lot of essays, interviews and reviews!

Forthcoming Publications

N.B. I have had to finally join the herd at Google, so let's hope it doesn't have any effect on the blogs. The Google dashboard is supposed to be "better" -- we'll see.

Just got word today that my short humorous piece, "Corrections to the Rules for Fimble Fowl (for 3 or 4 Players)," will appear in the next issue of Wild Violet. I've sort of wandered back to humor by roundabout ways (as is, I realize, typical of my life). I have another piece out there with hat in hand, looking for a place to live, so we'll see what happens with that.

The ever fabulous Phil Nutman liked my hastily written review of Terry Gilliam's Tideland, which should appear in the next Up Against the Wall along with my review of Jade Warrior (which I am finishing, I promise, Phil!).

Coming up soon, too, is "Palakainen," a story based on the Kanteletar murder ballad of the same name. It will be in the pages of New World Finn, whose editor, the wonderful Gerry Henkel, has long been a supporter of my work on Unikirja (Dreambook), the collection of stories inspired by Finnish myth and legend.

Spring break is over and work awaits -- sigh! So much to do; I have to clear my mind of all the wild ideas I put there over the break.

Review: 300 (AKA Beefcake-orama)

In our unending quest to see just about every comics-based film that comes out, we headed off yesterday afternoon to the see Zack Snyder's 300, based on the comic by Frank "Sin City" Miller and Lynn "Colorist Extraordinaire" Varley. It's received some scathing reviews, like A. O. Scott's which called it "as violent as Apocalypto and twice as stupid," but given the NYTimes scorn for anything not mimetic we didn't really take it all that seriously.



The central story takes place at the battle of Thermopylae, where the titular 300 Spartans face the massive army of Persia headed by self-proclaimed god, Xerxes (played with great vigor and costume by Rodrigo Santoro). The king of Sparta, Leonidas, becomes our focus with an introductory tale of his childhood path to warrior and king, and of course, eventually to become Gerard Butler, last seen as a terrific Beowulf in a very silly film. While it's a bit distracting to have a Scottish Spartan, it becomes less odd when he's joined by Welsh and Australian Spartans, notably the effective Vincent Regan, as his fiercely proud Captain, and the lovely David Wenham as guttural narrator, Blinky, er, Dilios. Lena Heady gets more of a part in the film than the comic as the tough but lovely Queen Gorgo (no, not that Gorgo).

Yes, we have nipples a-plenty with the few female figures (so to speak) in the film; but most of the film is a paen to the male figure -- oh, and the glory of combat fueled by honor. In a nutshell, fighting for freedom good, slavery bad. But that's just one aim -- what the film achieves is a romanticizing of the battle for freedom against all odds. While in our current climate, this would seem to be a thinly veneered commentary on existing wars (particularly given the racial politics as mostly Caucasian Spartans face an enemy of color and often, apparent disabilities), it really seems to be the artist's cri de couer against those who would subvert his vision, particularly in the case of slimy sell-outs like the oozingly slippery Theron, played by Dominic "Spice World" West.

While Miller clearly wants to glorify the clarity of purpose of the Spartans, there is more to it than that. It's easy to make these kinds of arguments about the past, when all the troubling detail has been stripped away by time. I recall the seemingly endless line of films about World War II and the conquest of the West that played on television while I was a child, all the time the very real Vietnam war ran on the news. I suspect that people were longing for a clarity of purpose missing from the real war at the time, but I also see a clear message of "war is hell" that came across in those films, the terrible loss that they all conveyed -- especially by odd films like Hornet's Nest. There's a romantic notion about the manner of one's death being as important as the manner of one's life, that our craven current culture might be less sanguine about embracing, but 300 really comes across as the declaration of the artist under fire who sees his life as bearing arms against an endless sea of troubles.

All of which may seem a bit heavy handed for a film that's really about shiny beefcake (sorry, Cheryl, nary a hairy chest to be seen), but I felt a sympathy for this film that doesn't jibe with my inherent pacifism (there's cartoonish violence a plenty, too, which I take with equanimity). While the real star is Butler's well-honed six pack abs (I have to note, though, that I think some of the other actors' abs looked digitally enhanced, especially Wenham's at the end), the struggle of vision and personal truth against the edict to bow down and kneel to the prevailing powers (whether markets or gods) does appeal to me (that and the drum heavy soundtrack).

And then, of course, there's the beefcake! Steve Reeves, eat your heart out.

Happy International Women's Day!

Don't forget to thank the women around you for being so fabulous, then take a moment to explore the wonders of Women's History Month. Take a great woman to lunch today!

Absolutely Fabulous Women

Jam & Jerusalem: Soon to be playing here on BBC America as "Clatterford", "Jam & Jerusalem" is the brainchild of the always hilarious Jennifer Saunders. This new series takes place in the small country vilage of Clatterford St. Mary, where the Women's Guild rules with an iron fist -- well, perhaps only with knitting needles and baking trays. It has the cream of the crop of women in British comedy, which of course includes Saunders' pals Dawn French and Joanna Lumley, as well as Pauline McLynn looking very un-Mrs. Doyle. It was almost a little distracting noticing everybody who was in the first episode, but it was quite a hoot and we laughed out loud several times. So it's a bit of a mystery why it has been lambasted by so many in Britain as "unfunny" -- are you kidding?! Perhaps the absence of a laugh track threw people off who don't know that they should laugh when something's funny (as opposed to when the laughtrack tells you to do so, e.g. when we tried to watch the Rob Corddry sitcom which had a relentless laughtrack primarily, it seems, because there was nothing at which to laugh). Perhaps it was the predominance of 40+ women that threw them off--women who are damn funny but not (for the most part) youngsters with cleavage--what is this? A world of Christopher Hitchenses? Or is it just because it's not AbFab? Well, duh. Do yourself a favor and check it out.



Ulla Suokko: The lovely flute player/storyteller/healer and friend Ulla Suokko plays tomorrow night in the city as part of "Fuerza -- El Swing del Flamenco!" with the Oscar Valero Flamenco Dance Company. They'll be performing Wednesday, March 7, 2007 8pm, tickets are $25 and available at the Jewish Community Center Manhattan Box Office (646-505-5708 or www.jccarts.org), 334 Amsterdam Ave at West 76th St. New York. I can guarantee you a wonderful time! What better way to shake off the late winter blues?

Mexicali / Mini

Saturday night we met up with the Crispinus clan for a little Mexican feast downtown. Our recent attempts to enjoy Mexican food in the area had proved to be less than successful, ranging from the bland to the down right awful. We were very pleased to find El Mariachi neither. It was nice to sit down to some good chips and salsa (complimentary -- take note, Jose Malone's; they were also fresh). The staff were quick to refresh both when the Saratoga crew ran a little late due to soccer and sickness (hope you're feeling better Kaitlin!), but we got our orders in and a good bottle of wine and before we knew it, the guacamole arrived. I could have done without the nest of iceberg under it, but the guac was tasty. Our entrees arrived shortly after we finished the appetizer (good timing) and wow -- hefty! Gene got the mole chicken and I think he got the pick of the litter. I tried a little of his sauce and it was good. I had steak enchiladas with red sauce. The marinade for the meat was a touch salty, but the flavor was terrific. We all enjoyed our food and, of course, gabbing endlessly (where we all discovered the myriad reasons why Dan has not won father of the year yet [AKA why you should not dunk your daughter head first in the snow], some hints about Gene's 18th birthday party, the girl with a squirrel's arm, and why it's good to have grad school behind us). We loitered long at our table without any signs of impatience from the staff -- indeed, we got a complimentary round of digestifs, which proved a nice surprise. We'll definitely be back.

Today we enjoyed not having to get up and go anywhere early (other than Gene running out for the papers), but we did muster the energy to head over to SUNY Albany for The eXtensible Toy Piano Festival. Despite the stronger bite in the wind, it was quite a pleasant day and our first time at the Performing Arts Center. It was a lot of fun, with a broad variety of compositions, played on the lovely toy pianos as well as sampled on a lovely PowerBook (I say as one who has both toy pianos and a PowerBook). They ended the concert with John Cage's Music for Amplified Toy Pianos (can't find that online, but you can listen to his Suite for Toy Piano). Cage was the first person to give serious thought to composition for toy piano; this piece offers a bit of randomness with the original score being written on transparent sheets which were combined to give a unique score. The ensemble updated the process by turning the sheets into a Quicktime movie file which they projected on a screen both they and the audience could see. Great fun!



Buy this cd! It is amazing!

I've been trying to be productive this spring break (whoo hoo, spring break!) which I suppose really begins tomorrow when I don't have my normal repsonsibilities; so far I have managed to complete a story that I have been working on for ages (actually began it back at the writer's colony!), but I hope to get more done (including a revision of an essay due Tuesday, eek). We stopped to watch the Simpsons, which had one of their more bizarre episodes that careened from a sudden and vaguely Gorey-esque style, to a pastiche/parody of The Sound of Music, to Marge's dream of James Patterson (voiced by James Patterson), to name-checking Dario Fo(!), with a nod to Un Chien Andalou and -- what?!

Stephen Sondheim? Stephen Sondheim?!

Singing a jingle for Buzz Cola, no less! Just when you think the Simpsons have gone beyond the beyond, they snap back with something truly insane. Hurrah!

Goth Scouts Rule!

Run your browser over to Humorous Maximus to catch the ever brilliant and utterly silly Elena Steier's Goth Scouts cartoons. See the Goth gals get physical in the basketball sense. Use the calendar on the bottom to see previous strips from her. Elena's got a wealth of political cartoons, too, so drop by and check them out!

Misheard Today

"Ninety year old lobster pleads guilty to racketeering..."

Uh... not quite. Real story here. Too much grading, I think.

Perambulations

First, the good news that Gene Sr.'s procedure went well and he's going home tomorrow; thanks to all who sent good thoughts his way.

Saturday proved to be the usual Elena-fest of plentiful food and good company. The two birthday gals celebrated amidst many friends and endless vittles. Rod and Elena's friend Marcello asked how we all knew each other, which opened a flood of remembrances, including a few stories we had not heard, like the meeting of our hosts. Wonderful to share stories and food -- so much food (I hate to harp on it, but the joey Zone was FULL and that is something that has never happened in my memory).

The Kalevala Day celebration on Sunday prove to be much fun -- and with a surprisingly high turn out. Minna and I felt woefully underprepared, but our forgiving audience was generous and appreciative. We focused on Runo 46, the Bear, so we hope our offering pleased Otso. There was much talk and, again, good food afterward. It was good to be among the FAHS folks once more.



We stopped at Robert's on the way back, where he shared some good chicken soup and the box of memories from my folks, including my dad's hat full of buttons which brought back a lot of memories and whimsy. Back home again to catch the end of the Oscars, but an early morning and much work to do -- so I hastily scribe this before heading back to go to bed, to face my twelve hour day tomorrow. Ah, but next week is spring break, which stretches out before me as a good time to write, write, write -- I hope!

And the Winner is --

Cranky Yankee! for her entry The Mangrove Legacy.

Hurrah and kudos to her -- she will have to let me know how she would like her name to appear in the serial novel and whether she desires to be helpful or to perish ignominiously, and I will be working her into the narrative, just like Emily Bronte did with all her friends and relatives.



But the remainder of the entrants will not go away empty handed: it was a very difficult choice to make, and in honor of that, I will be working little hints of some of the contestants and their entries into the story, which I hope will meet with your satisfaction.

Thank you all for showing your support and taking part in the contest.

Exegi monumentum aere perennius...

Contest Closed!

The entries are in and the cogitations begin. I shall proceed like the Magician in the Franklin's Tale:



Ful subtilly he kalkulled al this.
whan he hadde founde his firste mansioun,
He knew the remenaunt by propocioun,
And knew the arisyng of his moone weel,
And in whos face, and terme, and everydeel;
And knew ful weel the moones mansioun
Acordaunt to his operacioun,
And knew also his othere observaunces
For swiche illusiouns and swiche meschaunces
As hethen folk useden in thilke dayes.

Anon, I will let you know the results...

Parliament of Fowls

A murder of crows gathered outside the Gnome Home (AKA my office building) yesterday when Gene came to pick me up. Or should I say, a murder and a half (and then some!) -- check out the video that came courtesy of Gene's Treo. Hmmm, wonder what the discussion was? Here's a beautiful crow painting by Neil Shigley:



Argh -- the quietude of the students. I'm near despair in one class -- nothing seems to reach them, even daily reading quizzes have not convinced them to read. Maybe the next text... one can hope.

The Contest Draws to a Close!

Just a reminder that the contest to name the serial novel will be ending soon -- in fact it will be ending Friday, February 23, 2007 at 10.00 am (Eastern). The winner will be announced later in the day once my cogitations and contemplations are complete. If you want to enter, remember to add your proposed title(s) to the comments whilst praying to the deity of your choice.



Enter early and often! The prize might be yours...

FYI: I'll be writing up Boskone 44 for IROSF, so I'll let you know when that posts. The short version is we had some fun, sold some books and met some new and old friends.

Snapshots from Boskone

Yolen reading, tribbles breeding, Coville teasing, Faye spotting, Adam meeting at my reading (only ten years late), dinner at No Name, seafood eating (yum!), horror panels, hmmmm: that needs more than a gerund.

Today there'll be pirates in petticoats, something on Klingon (calling on my language expertise, although I do not know anything about Klingon) and a signing. Then home -- and much to do there. And always a million new ideas after a con...

[By the by, Friday night's post did not come through perhaps because, as Gene suspects, the title, "Terror on the 13th Floor," set off warning bells at Blogger. I guess we'll never know, but it went like this:

Okay, I lie. We are on the 13th floor, but no terror so far (yay). We stopped by to see friends then got here about 9, so there wasn't too much going on, 'tho we did have fun competing in the trivia for chocolate panel!

Oh, there was the horror of sitting for half an hour in the bar for a drink and finally giving up...]

Terror on the 13th Floor

[Gene sez: Argh! Looks like something (me?) prevented this post from going through the first time, so here's attempt #zwei...]

Kate sez (in re: post's title)::

Okay, I lie. We are on the 13th floor, but no terror so far (yay). We stopped by to see friends then got here about 9, so there wasn't too much going on, 'tho we did have fun competing in the trivia for chocolate panel!

Oh, there was the horror of sitting for half an hour in the bar for a drink and finally giving up...

[NB: Finally arrived the 23rd!]

Con-Eire in the house!

Despite the approximately two feet of snow that fell all day yesterday, our intrepid UPS carrier arrived with a box of copies of my play Con-Eire. Good timing -- we are off to Boston for Boskone 44 tomorrow, where I'll be on panels as usual, give a reading and have a signing. With luck, we might sell a few copies. This will be my first time at Boskone, although I have known people for years who go to it. It should be a lot of fun. I'll even be writing it up for IROSF, so I'll try to see as much as I can of everything!







It took a bit of digging to get out this morning. Luckily, I have no classes today due to senior portfolio meetings (I have no portfolio meetings because I am a new faculty member), but Gene had a doctor's appointment. The snow was mostly fluffy and light, with the exception of the stuff the snowplow threw up at the end of the driveway. Attacking that was a little more Sisyphean, but it got done.

Whoo hoo!

Snow day!

If you don't have the day off and need an antidote to V-Day syrup, check out this great item at Women's E-News. I should send it to my students who are reading about courtly love...



Here's the snowy gnome outside Gene's window (bad snap from PDA).

Dear Friend

As a visitor to Wonderland in the past, you are truly among our most treasured friends. It is the enthusiasm for whimsy such as yours that spurs us to continue to provide the perplexing chaos for which we are so widely esteemed, the better to introduce the young (and the no longer young) to the myriad joys of nonsense.

As we review our budget and look forward to the coming year, I would like to invite you to become an important part of the Wonderland experience. “Friends of Wonderland” is a new program designed to give supporters more intimate access to the unseen life of our little world. “Friends” will receive advance notice of special events and access to benefits heretofore available to few outside the royal family. Haven’t you always longed to stroll through the White Rabbit’s house at leisure or to try your hand at peppering the soup? You can have your own “backstage pass” to the ongoing productions all over Wonderland that best suit your own interests...

[for the rest of this essay, please email me]

Book Launch: Con-Eire!

I am happy to announce that my play Con-Eire is now available for purchase!







Thanks to the tireless work by Gene, who edited the text, laid out the pages and wrestled with PDF and JPG files in a life or death struggle, this short comedy for voices will at last appear in tangible form. It looks great -- simple, but elegant (thanks to Gene's great design sense). There's a lovely pull quote courtesy of the generous (and hilarious) Lee Martindale. The back cover copy reads like this:

It’s three days before the start of CON-EIRE, the best Irish-themed science fiction and fantasy con in the tri-state area, when a phone call sets the entire Convention Committee into panic mode. Is Big Name Writer going to pull out at the last minute? What does Very Famous Artist have to do with that decision? And what do the Fairies have to say about all this? Follow the hilarious mishaps as the committee members work desperately to salvage months of planning and hard work, all of which are about to be undone by a well-known prima donna.

The play debuted at Trinoc*coN last year with an enthusiastic volunteer cast and was well-received. It's my hope that a lot of people in the sff world will enjoy this play. Feel free to add reviews to the store's page and to help publicize the book in other ways -- yee ha!