When I first came across this story, I couldn't find out much about its author, Jeff Bender. Now, he's got a website up and running. It turns out he's an English teacher and wrestling coach in Philly and he's working on a wrestling novel called The Weight. That may not sound like a good idea, but see what you think after you read the piece I've linked to above. It seems to be an excerpt from the novel (he's got another sample on his site), and it's one of the best things I've read all year.
I'm currently reading Sam Lipsyte's Home Land. Lipsyte taught Bender at Columbia and selected the piece, "Coaches' Night Out", linked above. They're both very good at writing from a very particular male point-of-view - slightly twisted (more than slightly in Lipsyte's case), very funny, but recognizably and painfully real.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
MJ's Tsochkes
Comedian Paul Scheer (who I once stood in a long line to see introduce clips from Trapped in the Closet with Aziz Ansari - it was worth it, but still not as entertaining as just watching Trapped in the Closet on its own, if that makes any sense) has posted a Flickr set of items from the Michael Jackson Neverland Ranch auction. Unless your time is unbelievably valuable, it is worth your time to look at it.
[Via Time Out NY]
[Via Time Out NY]
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
April 29, 1975
I was reminded by Wikipedia that the evacuation of remaining American personnel (along with some South Vietnamese allies) preceding the fall of Saigon happened on the day I was born. This was the event that effectively marked, and certainly came to symbolize, the end of America's involvement in the Vietnam War. I found an amazing collection of photos and written accounts of what was called "Operation Frequent Wind" here and here.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi
Geoff Dyer's new novel has received high profile reviews in all the big spots lately. I've been waiting to read these reviews until I finished the book (which I did on Saturday), but I thought I'd write down a few of my thoughts on it before seeing what the critics had to say.
I rarely read "current", as in just released, fiction, but I was lucky enough to acquire a castoff review copy, I was curious about Dyer, and the premise sounded interesting. Being unaccustomed to reading books set in the two-thousand-oughts, I kept getting little shocks from references to iPods and other features of contemporary life. I suspect that these references have a purpose, though, as one of many devices Dyer uses to both link and create contrast between the two halves of the novel and the two cities in which they take place, Venice and Varanasi (aka Benares, India). In the first half, the often comic up-to-dateness of the art scene (and scenesters) at the Venice Bienniale is played against the city itself, which is perceived as unchanging, timeless from the point of view of the narrator, Jeff, resident of ever-changing London. In the second half, he discovers what timelessness means from an Indian viewpoint in Varanasi, gradually shedding his technology and other links to the West and adopting his own quirky version of the Hindu mindset.
The two-part structure of the novel is one of its most interesting features. The linkages between the two halves are everywhere. There are premonitions, hints of Varanasi in Venice, while the Varanasi section seems haunted by a specific version of Venice, Thomas Mann's in Death in Venice. From the reference in the title to plot points and specific quotes, picking out all the parallels to Mann's novel could keep a Cliff's Notator busy for some time.
Both halves of the book are quite funny. Dyer lands sharp jabs at art world types, the hassles of international travel, crunchy backpackers, and if we assume that there is a lot of Geoff in Jeff, himself. Beneath the jokes and satire there is a sadness, an emptiness to Jeff that allows his story to take on weight and become more and more involving at it goes along. By the end of the novel, Dyer has led Jeff to a place we might not have expected at the close of the Venice section, a place far away from where he began and much farther than the mere distance from London to Varanasi.
A great pleasure to read. Highly recommended.
Postscript:
I almost bought a used copy of Dyer's jazz book But Beautiful a couple months ago. I'll definitely seek it out now. The sections on Indian music in Jeff in Venice certainly suggest that he's someone I'd want to read on jazz.
For a more sombre but very beautiful rendering of some of the same themes (perhaps also inspired by Mann), I recommend Jose Saramago's The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis.
I rarely read "current", as in just released, fiction, but I was lucky enough to acquire a castoff review copy, I was curious about Dyer, and the premise sounded interesting. Being unaccustomed to reading books set in the two-thousand-oughts, I kept getting little shocks from references to iPods and other features of contemporary life. I suspect that these references have a purpose, though, as one of many devices Dyer uses to both link and create contrast between the two halves of the novel and the two cities in which they take place, Venice and Varanasi (aka Benares, India). In the first half, the often comic up-to-dateness of the art scene (and scenesters) at the Venice Bienniale is played against the city itself, which is perceived as unchanging, timeless from the point of view of the narrator, Jeff, resident of ever-changing London. In the second half, he discovers what timelessness means from an Indian viewpoint in Varanasi, gradually shedding his technology and other links to the West and adopting his own quirky version of the Hindu mindset.
The two-part structure of the novel is one of its most interesting features. The linkages between the two halves are everywhere. There are premonitions, hints of Varanasi in Venice, while the Varanasi section seems haunted by a specific version of Venice, Thomas Mann's in Death in Venice. From the reference in the title to plot points and specific quotes, picking out all the parallels to Mann's novel could keep a Cliff's Notator busy for some time.
Both halves of the book are quite funny. Dyer lands sharp jabs at art world types, the hassles of international travel, crunchy backpackers, and if we assume that there is a lot of Geoff in Jeff, himself. Beneath the jokes and satire there is a sadness, an emptiness to Jeff that allows his story to take on weight and become more and more involving at it goes along. By the end of the novel, Dyer has led Jeff to a place we might not have expected at the close of the Venice section, a place far away from where he began and much farther than the mere distance from London to Varanasi.
A great pleasure to read. Highly recommended.
Postscript:
I almost bought a used copy of Dyer's jazz book But Beautiful a couple months ago. I'll definitely seek it out now. The sections on Indian music in Jeff in Venice certainly suggest that he's someone I'd want to read on jazz.
For a more sombre but very beautiful rendering of some of the same themes (perhaps also inspired by Mann), I recommend Jose Saramago's The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Five Points on Tyson
1. I've enjoyed every James Toback movie I've seen, but he does tend to make some questionable (his defenders might say "bold") artistic decisions. I'm thinking of Harvey Keitel naked on a piano bench in some sort of fetal-y position at the end of Fingers or the repeated docu-hacky shots of Mike Tyson meditatively strolling along the beach in Tyson.
2. Toback does not bore you. Tyson held my attention for the full 90 minutes, in spite of (or more likely because of) the movie consisting mainly of interviews with the titular subject. Toback is fascinated with sex, violence, and a good line of B.S. (Tyson might say "skulduggery"), which goes a long way toward explaining both his friendship with Tyson and his (relative) success as a writer and director.
3. The accidental poetry of Mike Tyson - a sample: "I might be scum and trash, but I'll be angelic scum and trash" (hope I'm quoting that correctly - I almost got out a pen and wrote it down)
4. I'm sure there's going to be debate about whether this is a whitewash by Toback on behalf of his buddy. While he's clearly biased to an extent (their friendship is no secret), he certainly leaves in plenty of unflattering footage. Still, there's plenty of fodder for critics (beyond the obvious and aforementioned beach shots). It certainly isn't a "balanced" portrait as Tyson is given the last (and on some subjects, only) word, but Toback gives the audience enough raw (and in some cases, very raw) material to make up its own mind, or at least to have a good discussion after the movie.
5. Bottom line: the fight footage is fun to see if you're a boxing fan, and I now know that my limit for listening to Mike Tyson talk about himself exceeds 90 minutes. A troubling self-revelation, to say the least.
2. Toback does not bore you. Tyson held my attention for the full 90 minutes, in spite of (or more likely because of) the movie consisting mainly of interviews with the titular subject. Toback is fascinated with sex, violence, and a good line of B.S. (Tyson might say "skulduggery"), which goes a long way toward explaining both his friendship with Tyson and his (relative) success as a writer and director.
3. The accidental poetry of Mike Tyson - a sample: "I might be scum and trash, but I'll be angelic scum and trash" (hope I'm quoting that correctly - I almost got out a pen and wrote it down)
4. I'm sure there's going to be debate about whether this is a whitewash by Toback on behalf of his buddy. While he's clearly biased to an extent (their friendship is no secret), he certainly leaves in plenty of unflattering footage. Still, there's plenty of fodder for critics (beyond the obvious and aforementioned beach shots). It certainly isn't a "balanced" portrait as Tyson is given the last (and on some subjects, only) word, but Toback gives the audience enough raw (and in some cases, very raw) material to make up its own mind, or at least to have a good discussion after the movie.
5. Bottom line: the fight footage is fun to see if you're a boxing fan, and I now know that my limit for listening to Mike Tyson talk about himself exceeds 90 minutes. A troubling self-revelation, to say the least.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Lemmy!
Hard to decide the best thing about this brief profile/interview with Lemmy from Motorhead (sorry, I don't know how to do umlauts on Blogger), but it might be the fact that Lemmy: The Movie is coming out sometime this year. Can't wait to see Tyson and Lemmy fighting it out for Best Doc at the next Oscars.
Be sure to go to IMDB and check out Lemmy's filmography as an actor. Frezno Smooth?!?!?
Bonus link: Lemmy's early band The Rockin' Vickers (sic)
(Via the Village Voice, photo via Wikipedia Commons)
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Brotherhood of the Upper Lip
I'm sure this has already been covered by Deadspin and/or somebody on a Cardinals message board, but when did Rick Ankiel start taking facial hair cues from Rivers Cuomo? The "Separated at Birth" side-by-side practically Photoshops itself.
And speaking of baseball mustaches, I still need to see this movie.
And speaking of baseball mustaches, I still need to see this movie.
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