Saturday, June 26, 2010

War and Peace

Since we are living in a time of many wars, with polarized feelings right here within the United States, it seems like a good time to reread War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy.  What strikes me at the beginning is how much wheeling and dealing goes on at the soirees.  A benevolent uncle jockeys for position by granting a favor to an old luckless impoverished woman who is quite the wheeler dealer herself.

I am also struck at the words "joy" and "merry" in relation to the men's view of battle.  They so look forward to the adventure of war that they approach it like children playing  game. 

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Women Lawyers

I have been thinking of women lawyers, and the image of women lawyers portrayed by the media and  movies.

Sunday the New York Times featured a story about Gloria Allred, a lawyer who advocates for women  victimized by criminals, discrimination, and less, including Tiger Woods' publicity team after it became known that she was one of the women he had had sex with.  Throughout the article, mention is made of what Allred is wearing, how well put together she is, how tall she is, how old she is,  elements of a professional's life that probably would not be mentioned if the subject were a man. 

On television that day was Legally Blonde, a movie that made it safe for smart girls to be froufrou in movies (let's face it, Hepburn dressed for success, not to charm in her smart girl roles, ditto Rosalind Russell et al-- can you imagine any of those black and white film strong women heroines from the 40s in pink?) or was it the movie that made it safe for froufrou women to be smart. I always watch the movie when it is on tv just to see the face off of Elle in her curvy dress with the white frill and high heels and perfect accessories, waiting for the elevator with her counterpart played by Selma Blair in a turtleneck sweater, conservative suit, pearls, and black pumps.  It is easy to see who will win the man, the case, and the career in this bit of costuming.

In 1992, Marisa Tomei wore skintight, outrageously flamboyant dresses in My Cousin Vinny when she demonstrated, in a courtroom, in front of her doofus lawyer boyfriend, her superior knowledge of cars and the skid marks they make, which helped to  save two young men unjustly accused of murder.

The Times article condescended toward Allred, a highly successful lawyer,  because she excelled at publicity, and tended not to turn down any highly celebrated client.  But  how clearly she states her case:
“The concept of fairness is always culturally defined,” she said. “Even here, where we think we are such an advanced nation, people advise women to grin and bear harassment in the workplace. I say, ‘Do complain.’ It’s only going to get worse. We have rights so that we don’t have to go like beggars with cups in our hands asking for mercy. We have to be heard in the court of public opinion as well as in the actual courts. Silence is the enemy.”















                            Gloria Allred in her office




Reese Witherspoon as Elle Woods



















Marisa Tomei as Mona Lisa Vito in
My Cousin Vinny

Tuesday, June 15, 2010


The house sparrows have no houses.
They settle in the cross beams of steel
posts suspended from street lamps.
You might hear a cheep and looking up
see feathers sprouting
from the cold metal hollows.  The proud
mothers sing their hearts out. 
Success!  Success!  Success!












Dean Street at Carlton Avenue
Prospect Heights
Brooklyn, New York
Photo by Tracy Collins 

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work









 
photo by Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times
 In the documentary of her last year leading up to her victory on Celebrity Apprentice, which signalled a bit of a resurgence in her career as a comedian, Joan Rivers shows her floor to ceiling card catalog of jokes.  As a librarian, I loved the fact that the jokes were in alphabetical order.  Cooking jokes were just before Tony Danza jokes.  Does she write all her own material?  She seems to in this film.  Some of the jokes are very very funny.  The movie does not lionize her in all her difficulties, but it does document how terribly hard she works.  And how personally she takes slights.  And how sad she is  when her long time manager and she break off their business relationship.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Happy Birthday, Ruth Stone







Ruth Stone

At Poets House on Tuesday night family and friends of Ruth Stone gathered to celebrate her 95th birthday.  It was a beautiful day for any kind of celebration,  full of fresh air, sun, and skidding clouds over the Hudson.  Inside, it was standing room only for visitors who crammed into the small auditorium.  We were greeted by the expert program coordinator Stephen Motika.   Twelve people saluted the poet described by Sharon Olds as the "mother of humor and mourning."  

Chard de Niord began the evening with a telephone call to Stone in Vermont the way David Letterman on live TV used to phone his mom  for the whole studio and TV audience, with enhanced sound so that we could hear each other across the miles.    Stone's voice rang out loud and clear how "she loved us all very much!" and then she read her poem, "The Orchard."

Sidney Wolinsky, a filmmaker who made Stone's acquaintance in the 1970s, showed a few minutes of his documentary "Excuses."  Even though Stone was not present at Poets House, we all did get to see her at home slicing up carrots and mushrooms for a casserole while she talked about her work and her life.

Her oldest daughter, Marcia Croll,  read love letters between Ruth Stone and her husband Walter. The letters were erotic, charged with love and longing.  Walter's suicide in 1959 made Stone an expert in grieving, loss, and the surreal turns that life takes.  Now, more than fifty years later, she survives, continuing to write and read aloud with her clear firm voice.

Dorianne Laux delivered by heart  brilliantly the poem, "Curtains."

CURTAINS
Putting up new curtains,
other windows intrude.
As though it is that first winter in Cambridge
when you and I had just moved in.
Now cold borscht alone in a bare kitchen.
What does it mean if I say this years later?
Listen, last night
I am on a crying jag
with my landlord, Mr. Tempesta.
I sneaked in two cats.
He screams NO PETS! NO PETS!
I become my Aunt Virginia,
proud but weak in the head.
I remember Anna Magnani.
I throw a few books. I shout.
He wipes his eyes and opens his hands.
OK OK keep the dirty animals
but no nails in the walls.
We cry together.
I am so nervous, he says.
I want to dig you up and say, look,
it's like the time, remember,
when I ran into our living room naked
to get rid of that fire inspector.
See what you miss by being dead?










 Dorianne Laux




Sandra Gilbert read the poem, "The Song of the Absinthe Granny."

The Song of Absinthe Granny 

Among some hills there dwelt in parody
A young woman; me.
I was that gone with child
That before I knew it I had three
And they hung whining and twisting.
Why I wasn’t more than thirty-nine
And sparse as a runt fruit tree.
Three pips that plagued the life out of me.
Ah me. It wore me down,
The grubs, the grubbing.
We were two inches thick in dust
For lack of scrubbing.
Diapers and panty-shirts and yolk of eggs.
One day in the mirror I saw my stringy legs
And I looked around
And saw string on the floor,
And string on the chair
And heads like wasps’ nests
Full of stringy hair.
“Well,” I said, “if you have string, knit.
Knit something, don’t just sit.”
We had the orchard drops,
But they didn’t keep.
The milk came in bottles.
It came until the bottles were that deep
We fell over the bottles.
The milk dried on the floor.
“Drink it all up,” cried their papa,
And they all began to roar, “More!”
Well, time went on,
Not a bone that wasn’t frayed.
Every chit was knicked and bit,
And nothing was paid.
We had the dog spayed.
“It looks like a lifetime,”
Their papa said.
“It’s a good life, it’s a good wife,
It’s a good bed.”
So I got the rifle out
To shoot him through the head.
But he went on smiling and sitting
And I looked around for a piece of string
To do some knitting.
Then I picked at the tiling
And the house fell down.
“Now you’ve done it,” he said.
“I’m going to town.
Get them up out of there,
Put them to bed.”
“I’m afraid to look,” I whimpered,
“They might be dead.”
“We’re under here, mama, under the shed.”
Well, the winters wore on.
We had cats that hung around.
When I fed them they scratched.
How the little nippers loved them.
Cats and brats.
I couldn’t see for my head was thatched
But they kept coming in when the door unlatched.
“I’ll shave my head,” I promised,
“I’ll clip my mop.
This caterwauling has got to stop.”
Well, all that’s finished,
It’s all been done.
Those were high kick summers,
It was bald galled fun.
Now the daft time’s over
And the string is spun.
I’m all alone
To cull and be furry.
Not an extra page in the spanking story.
The wet britches dried
And the teeth came in.
The last one cried
And no new began.
Those were long hot summers,
Now the sun won’t tarry.
My birds have flocked,
And I’m old and wary.
I’m old and worn and a cunning sipper,
And I’ll outlive every little nipper.
And with what’s left I’m chary,
And with what’s left I’m chary.









Sandra Gilbert


To get more of a sense of how her mind works, read this  interview with Ruth Stone.  In reading several interviews over the past few days,  I find it amusing to see how  she learns about the interviewers, how she disarms them with her curiosity about everyone she speaks to.




Thursday, June 3, 2010

Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo

Beauty and transience are linked in Japan. Think of cherry blossoms, and how they are celebrated in ritual gatherings, adored for their short lives as much as for their visual splendor. In Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo, a first film by Jessica Orent, the Japanese people show their love of insects through collecting. In the US if you go into a pet store, you see the cuddly puppies and cute kittens. In Japan, children yearn for the stag horn beetle in the square plastic box. Women go to pet supply stores in search of the best bedding for their insects, and the best insect snacks. At night, the hunters of the beetles are out with flashlights and special nets to capture the beetles who climb trees. Anyone in the beetle business seems to know just how to kick the base of the tree to dislodge the unsuspecting bugs. Overhead images of people swarming at intersection in the rain, their heads under colorful umbrellas, link our species to the insects. Constant voiceover relates how poetry, art, nature, and philosophy relate to the Japanese love of insects. Most of it is in Japanese, requiring the viewer to read the subtitles which takes our eyes off the images. This is a minor flaw, but it leaves the audience somewhat exhausted after watching.

Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo Trailer from Myriapod Productions on Vimeo.