Sunday, March 31, 2013

On The Road – After. Short Answers



So nine days ago, I finally saw the film of On The Road.  I had posted a list of things I would be looking for in the film.  I’m ready to talk.  First—my short answers on what I saw.  Second—in another post, my long questions about the film.  Here’s my original list, and the short answers about what I saw.


How much of the film is based on the scroll version rather than the finished book?  Some.  The scroll version is closer to the actual events—and so is the film.

An overall theme.  In the book, Sal and friends sense someone walking towards them.  At the end of the book, an old man with long white hair walks past Kerouac in a parking lot and says, “Go moan for man.”  Is anything like this included in the movie?  No.  The theme of the film seems to be Dean’s irresponsibility.

Is Dean Moriarty presented as a new American saint, an irresponsible sociopath, or…?  In keeping with what I just said, Dean is presented as almost completely irresponsible.  At a poetry reading last Thursday, in the wake of the film, I heard one poet sharply denounce Neal Cassady (ie. Dean).

The relationship between Mary Lou and Camille.  Kristen Stewart has suggested that her character (Mary Lou) is the pivot of the film.  But the novel exists in a tension between the two.  I can see why Kristen Stewart (“Luann”) felt she was the pivotal character; she appeared as Dean’s soul mate while Kirsten Dunst (“Camille”) was relegated to a minor role.

What is the role of Carlo Marx?   One film reviewer has said:  “Lose Carlo!”  Is Carlo a true prophet?  A true poet?  A bore?  Pretentious?  Carlo was portrayed as doting and clingy, following Dean around.  His prophetic voice has been removed.

How do they handle that brothel scene in Mexico…?  Superficially, like much else.

Speaking of Mexico—How does the film portray minorities in general?  More specifically, Mexicans and Blacks?  We seem impersonal, societal references:  A sign on a gas station that says “We serve whites only”—and a sign at a roadside grocery that says “We do not sell alcohol to Indians.”  That’s it.  Neither of those signs are in the book.

What about sexism?  Do men utterly run the show?  Pretty much, although Camille does seems pretty independent.  We see the women scrubbing Bull Lee’s floors.

How are the 1940s presented?  How well does the film represent the 1940s, and does it matter?  Though the book is set in 1947-51, most people associate it with the mid-to-late 1950s, when the book first appeared.   We hear bop and see weird jazz musicians.  We hear passing remarks about President Truman.  That’s it.

How homo- or bi-sexual is the book?  How sexual is the relationship between Sal and Dean?  Not very.  Can’t tell how Dean feels about Carlo.  Dean does try to get money out of a gay man by offering sex (That scene is in the scroll version).
 How does Old Bull Lee and family come across?  Funny??  Disturbing?  Simply weird?  Weird—but not nearly weird enough(!).

Does the film include Sal’s vision, in San Francisco, of reincarnation and nonlinear time?  Nope.

How does the film deal with Sal’s relationship to his mother?  Significant, but not significant enough.  But the family is French-Canadian, as in real life.

How is America presented?  America??

Does Dean care about anything besides sex and kicks?  He cares about his children, apparently.  Maybe.

How many people and events are cut out of the movie??  Oh…lots.  But then, the novel includes a lot of characters in very minor roles.


So.  Those are the short answers.  Stay tuned for the long questions!

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Pantheacon (11) – Tantra!...(?)



So off I went to the Tantra workshop, at the other end of the hotel.   A lot of people were crowded into the room when I arrived—I had to grab one of the few remaining empty seats, next to an acquaintance of mine.  I tried not to be overly distracted by the pretty faces and bodies I saw as I came in.  Since this was a Tantra workshop, I was naturally thinking about sensuality, sexuality, sex—because that is what everyone first thinks of when someone mentions Tantra!
 
Now it turned out that the person originally scheduled to facilitate this workshop had cancelled,; the presentation was going to be given by a last-minute substitute.  The new facilitator had to ask for a review of the class description from the Pantheacon brochure.  The description had referred to the intersection of Paganism and Hinduism.  

Given that the facilitator had volunteered for this assignment at the last minute, I really can’t fault him for appearing a little confused about how to present his material—which of course he had had to pull together at the very last minute.  He was an experienced presenter about Tantra; he just hadn’t been planning to present this workshop.

He began by asking what we thought Tantra was about.  People mentioned duality, breathing, enlightenment through sensuality and the physical and the material—and I waited for the instructor to tell us that Tantra wasn’t really about sex; that this is just a western misconception.  As I recall, he didn’t do that.  Instead, he contrasted Tantra with sutra.  This completely surprised me.  Of course the Kama Sutra is a sutra about Tantra, it would seem.    But for him, as far as I can recall, “sutra” meant something like the theory of something, while “tantra” meant the practice.  He also mentioned “vajra”, which I recognized as a word for lightning—generally I would interpret this as the Lightning-Bolt of Enlightenment.  But I don’t recall that he connected it to enlightenment.

He led us in an exercise.  Choosing a partner (mine was my somewhat handsome acquaintance), I placed my right hand upon his heart (the middle of his chest), and he did the same for me.  Then we looked into each other’s eyes.  We did this for one or two minutes.  A little later, the presenter suggested a different exercise.  We moved away the rows of chairs and walked around the now open space in the middle of the room, looking for someone we did not know that we might talk to.  I was conscious of being perhaps the oldest person in the room.  I was reluctant to look anyone in the eyes.  Several times I spotted someone I found interesting, but they were not looking at me.  Several times someone appeared to walk towards me; but I was trying not to look desperate or lonely or needy.  It felt like a dating exercise.  As it turned out, I never did find someone to work with.  And I felt lonely  

What did I take away from this workshop?  I think the feeling that I was not connecting well with people at the convention; the fact that I was feeling disconnected and lonely, a little depressed.    Also an awareness that I was feeling quite self-conscious.  I spent a lot of time worrying about the people around me.  I was feeling old and unwanted.  I felt detached from the crowds of people surrounding me at the hotel.

And I wasn’t sure I’d learned anything about Tantra.  I wasn’t sure what the presenter had been trying to tell us.

But then, the exercises had caused me to pay more attention to myself and my surroundings.  And that was a good thing!  My increased discomfort was increasing my attentiveness.   A good thing!

So ended the second day of Pantheacon.  I left after this workshop, not staying past 11 pm, not staying for the final workshop of the evening.  That way, I could get a little more rest than I had gotten the previous evening.  I would hopefully be better rested for the third day of the conference.

Monday, March 25, 2013

Pantheacon (10) -- A Little Touch of Voodoo in the Night?



Yes—as I said:  “Full use of senses and emotions for ritual transformation.”  But that note probably was referring to the Feri Tent Revival, not the next workshop I attended, after dinner, but who knows?

I started the evening with Voodoo, of the Caribbean variety.  I’d been thinking, earlier that day, “I hope the Voodoo ritual is tomorrow; that will give me time to find white clothing to wear.”  But of course it was that evening, and I arrived clad totally in darker colors.  So I could not participate—though I could watch.  I’d attended a related event decades earlier, up in Oakland; but I’d been prepared then, and appropriately dressed.  Not this time.  So I watched with the rest of the “observers,” to the rear of the room.

Turns out, since no open flame could be used in the hotel rooms, only Danbala, the sky-and-snake father spirit, could be worshipped—which required the all-white apparel.  I watched and listened with interest.  From the rear of the crowd I couldn’t really see what was on the altar.  I imagined, from previous experience, the possibility of quite informal but practical and pleasing offerings:  Food, tobacco, alcohol.

The ceremony began with Catholic prayers and the sign of the cross—Voodoo combines Catholicism with African indigenous religion.  After that came musical call and response.  Some aspects of the ritual, it seemed to me, were done for the spirits, some for the liturgists, and some, perhaps for those watching.  Bells and rattles accompanied the singing.

The ritual structure included singing to create ritual boundaries, to call the spiritual Family together, and to seek the consent of the spirits being called.  The singing was accompanied by appropriate motions and dance, and special sounds—for example, clapping.  Water, candles and drink were used to approach the spirits.  Bread loaves were thrown to the four directions.  Ritual turns and dips, with clapping of hands (the motions reminded me of Dances for Universal Peace) led to the calls to Danbala.  Devotees wore white to work with Danbala; for other spirits other colors might be worn.

So:  “Full use of senses and emotions.”  The emphasis in this tradition is on experience, not dispassionate observation or “rationality.”  Earlier, we had been told stories of spirit “possession.”

As I watched and listened, I thought of my parents and family, who, so far as I know, have never attended a convention such as Pantheacon (I mean, of course, the Christian equivalent); much less anything relating to Voodoo.

But this event offered me the merest taste of the Voodoo tradition; then I was off to the last event of the evening:  A talk on Tantra, in another area of the hotel.

Friday, March 22, 2013

"On The Road" – Film – Questions Before


So tonight, hopefully, is the night.  I finally see the film version of Jack Kerouac’s On The Road.  Afterwards, I suspect, I’ll feel extremely silly about all the postings I’ve done in anticipation of seeing it.  For, after all, how many people care the slightest bit about it?  Though some folks have been waiting fifty-plus years for this.

For the record, here are some of the things I’ll be watching for in the film.  If you’re a Kerouac fan, you might care too.

Watching for:

How much of the film is based on the scroll version rather than the finished book?

An overall theme.  In the book, Sal and friends sense someone walking towards them.  At the end of the book, an old man with long white hair walks past Kerouac in a parking lot and says, “Go moan for man.”  Is anything like this included in the movie?

Is Dean Moriarty presented as a new American saint, an irresponsible sociopath, or…?

The relationship between Mary Lou and Camille.  Kristen Stewart has suggested that her character (Mary Lou) is the pivot of the film.  But the novel exists in a tension between the two.

What is the role of Carlo Marx?   One film reviewer has said:  “Lose Carlo!”  Is Carlo a true prophet?  A true poet?  A bore?  Pretentious?

How do they handle that brothel scene in Mexico…?

Speaking of Mexico—How does the film portray minorities in general?  More specifically, Mexicans and Blacks?

What about sexism?  Do men utterly run the show?

How are the 1940s presented?  How well does the film represent the 1940s, and does it matter?  Though the book is set in 1947-51, most people associate it with the mid-to-late 1950s, when the book first appeared. 

How homo- or bi-sexual is the book?  How sexual is the relationship between Sal and Dean?

How does Old Bull Lee and family come across?  Funny??  Disturbing?  Simply weird?

Does the film include Sal’s vision, in San Francisco, of reincarnation and nonlinear time?

How does the film deal with Sal’s relationship to his mother?

How is America presented?

Does Dean care about anything besides sex and kicks?

How many people and events are cut out of the movie??

That’s it for now—we’ll see how I feel afterwards.