The Literary Swirl

Many influences swirling in my brain just now.  As November approaches, so does NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month).  I’m planning to write a draft novel, just as I did last year.  Meanwhile, an article of mine is on the verge of appearing on a fairly high-traffic website, and I’m excited about that.  Then there’s the slow formation of a South Bay Writers group focused on “underground” writing—whatever that means!  And my own exploration of such writing—watching a documentary about Charles Bukowski; attending our South Bay Writers October meeting in costume as Geoffrey Firmin, the main character in Malcolm Lowry’s novel Under the Volcano, publicly reading an excerpt from William Burroughs’ Queer.  And we’re starting a third Open Mic, exact schedule to be determined, to be held in downtown Los Altos.  The next month should be full of literary events!

Through Steppenwolf, Burroughs, et al.

Wandering around in many fields of thought now.  But I’ve always been inclined to sample many things at once.
 

The 600+ page biography of William S. Burroughs (Call Me Burroughs).  Hermann Hesse’s Steppenwolf.  The Great Gatsby.  Shakespeare’s “Richard II.”  

I’ve read Steppenwolf several times, and listened to the audiobook once already.  Now I’m about two thirds of the way through the audiobook again.  This time I’m feeling much more critical about it.

What I notice most of all is the pacing; that’s a strange thing to notice, eh?  Shouldn’t I be struck by the whole idea of a man who is psychologically or spiritually half man and half wolf?  Shouldn’t I be stunned by a novel from 1923 that resonates so much with later historical periods of drugs and sex?  Hesse became quite the rage in the U.S. during the 1960s!

Yet, what I notice most, making my way through this six-CD set, is the pacing.  After one CD, Hesse has barely introduced the main character and his background.  After two CD’s (one third of the way through the book) he’s just met his first other main character.  Half-way through the set (end of CD 3) and the bare hint of a plot has emerged.  After four CDs—about where I am now—a few other characters have appeared, and we’re moving towards an actual event.  “This man is seriously depressed!” I had thought to myself through much of the beginning.  Now I wonder about him as he consorts with people who use drugs, sell their bodies, sleep around.  No wonder the Nazis burned this book!

About Burroughs there is much to say—but what, exactly; and how to say it?  I don’t know yet.  Meanwhile Gatsby—both movie and book—and Richard II hover in the back of my mind.

Yes—I relate to literature!

Pantheacon (17) – White Girl Shamanism

I concluded Pantheacon 2013 with a pair of excellent workshop.  The first was titled “White Girl Shamanism.”  It addressed cultural issues around the study of shamanism.

 

Is this a good way to phrase this?  The point is that a lot of people who did not grow up in native/indigenous cultures have become interested in what they call shamanism—which we understand as originating in native/indigenous cultures.  This raises issues of “cultural appropriation” and “spiritual tourism.”

Looking back at this, I have to ask what we mean by “indigenous.”  I’m not an anthropologist.  I’m guessing we mean a group that has never left its place of origin.  Less precisely, perhaps, it would be a group that has no memory or record of ever having lived anywhere else.  The Australian Aborigines may have come to Australia from somewhere else—but they have no collective memory of that.

If shamanism is something indigenous, tribal—can I ever put myself into that mindset?  Unlikely.  I personally have traveled all over the planet.  My earliest memories are of Pennsylvania, which I hardly know.  I can’t imagine growing up in the same place as my ancestors of centuries ago.  I can’t even imagine what it is like to still be living in the same place I grew up!

On the other hand, if shamanism finds a basis in universal experience, why shouldn’t I call myself a shaman?  If I go into trance and encounter Intermediaries—Power Animals, Totems; if these trance experiences enable me to bring back wisdom with which to serve my community—is it wrong to follow these practices?

I left this workshop musing over what has been one of my own studies; I guess I’d have to call it “Wagnerian Shamanism.”  Perhaps I’ll do a workshop one day—though I feel this is my own solitary path.  As I mused I thought again of Burroughs' dictum:  “Mind your own business.”  I wondered how to respect boundaries and fears, how to know when to reach out and when to hold back, how to know when to keep silent.  Finally I bent myself again towards my Writer’s Way

Pantheacon (13) – Sex Positive (2) – And Seers and Empaths

After a long break, and with Pantheacon 2014 fast approaching (in eleven days!), I now begin to wrap up last year’s reflections and broodings; taking up where I left off “way back when”—with “sex positivity.”

I had mentioned (last April!) some of the guidelines we suggested at the Sex Positivity workshop.  Some I didn’t mention included:

Speak your truth.

If you don’t know, ask.

Accept without judgment (relax your judgment).  This reminded me of William S. Burrough’s admonition to “Mind your own business” (“stay out of boy-girl fights”).

Be present and in the moment, with compassion.

Date within your species (I have some questions about this one!)

…

By this point in the conference, my mind was floating off.  I’d had a dream the night before, involving being trapped on the side of a cliff near a stone inscription, and being rescued by a large bird—an owl or a hawk.  I had begun to meditate on the meaning of the Seer and the Empath.  Some of the musings:

If the purpose of the Seer is to see, then what do you do with what you see?  What is the proper way to look?    What does the Empath do with what they sense?  The Seer has a responsibility to see, and the Empath must feel.  And what do you do with those feelings?

Somewhere I heard, or thought I heard:  “Intent is not magic.  Magic is intent, but intent is not magic.”

So my Pantheacon exploration continued!

Film Review: The Final Academy Documents (William Burroughs)

This DVD made for one of the strangest viewing experiences I’ve ever had.

 

To begin with, the menu is vague about the contents.  I finally started at the beginning and played through to the end.  That presented me with two short experimental films involving William Burroughs, one or more public readings by Burroughs, and four (I think) readings/performances by John Giorno.  There were also ads for other DVDS, though those tracks did not provide very much in the way of information.

The public readings apparently formed part of a “Final Academy Tour” in the 1980s (and possibly earlier?) at the Hacienda Club in Manchester, England.  They included excerpts from (I believe) Naked Lunch dealing with the infamous/notorious Dr. Benway.

The experimental films, Ghosts at Number Nine and Towers Open Fire utilized a “cut-up” approach, little or no dialogue, and various added noises.

What can I tell you?  The first film is long (over twenty minutes) and disconnected.  The second film is not quite as long—but just as disconnected.  I can’t hold the “disconnected” against them, because that is part of the point, part of the artistic approach.  I watched them, after all; and, in a way, I enjoyed them; but once was probably enough.

I enjoyed Burroughs’ reading about Dr. Benway.  Nevertheless, is “enjoyed” ever the proper word to use when discussing Naked Lunch?  Well, it’s funny and grotesque—so I suppose “enjoyed” is the proper word!  And although Burroughs speaks and reads in a manner that resembles no one else I know of, this too is enjoyable in a macabre, rather twisted way.  This is not the way we generally train public speakers!

John Giorno—well, he proves one can talk over a musical background.  He’s passionate, certainly.  I got tired of his repetition of lines; but he has an interesting approach to poetry and recitation and I’m glad I got to see him in performance.

So, overall, I’m glad I watched this DVD, and I can recommend it, with reservations.  Unless you’re an avant-garde film buff, you may want to skip the two films.  And if you aren’t familiar with Burroughs or Giorno, you may want to approach this DVD with caution, “in measured doses.”