On the other hand continuing the vein of the previous post, I’m considering the works of two of the finest writers I’ve ever read who were two gay men and that is Tennessee Williams and Truman Capote. There’s darkness here, but a thread of brilliant light shed by their own perspective. And both of them celebrated life, and seemed at peace with the men they were and I think the secret is that there’s isn’t so much darkness as there is intensity and truth, not manufactured bizarre scenarios. And I wonder if the richness of their work comes from not only having God-given talent but from being at peace with who they were. There isn’t the freakish element thrown in perhaps because they weren’t leading a double life, one side they wouldn’t own up to? Nor did they hide behind pretension, hell’s bells, they didn’t need it.
I’m just thinking about “artists” or “writers” who dwell on dark themes, and I don’t mean the classic good against evil theme, but I mean, the twisted, the pornographic, the sexually weird, freakish, arrogant…that all leads to hopelessness, that makes the statement there’s no point to the human experience except, twisted, dark, isolation, etc. like Carson McCullers and others. Carson McCullers was married, but she was infatuated with other women, like writer Katherine Anne Porter and another woman. I don’t understand, well maybe, yes I do perceive an understanding of women who like to film other women and children naked among other things and my understanding of them is this: they are either completely gay, or veer both ways, and with the child element thrown in, oh my, scary. And their work is usually filled with hopeless wordliness. It’s almost like they are trying to be a man but are falling completely short. Being a woman doesn’t mean you fall short of any man so why try to be like one unless you feel that’s what you should be?
Seems like I have to grow accustomed to waking each morning in excruciating pain, such as this morning and with a lot of pain, comes exhaustion. Did a little test this morning; when I sit on the side of the mattress I usually sleep upon, then comes that stabbing pain; so I test sat sitting on different parts of the mattress and felt no pain. I just turned the mattress maybe two months ago to a new side–so I turned it again this morning to where I could sit and not hurt. Keeping fingers crossed–I do know a mattress not firm enough can cause sciatica. We’ll see.
No great elaborate recipes today; roasting chicken with fajita veggies; onion, red and green peppers, cumin, cayenne. I am going to read that novel LSU Press sent me, “The Cottoncrest Curse.” After watching, “Ivy” yesterday, and, “The Black Book,” I’m in the mood for gothic, even if it’s Southern Gothic. But not, heaven help us, Flannery Baby, nor Carson McCullers. The latter also wrote one of the most depressing stories ever also, “The Ballad of the Sad Cafe.” Gray day outside, not a cozy gray day but a bit of a steely one.
Corday killed Marat! (Not Barat.)
Or somewhere near it thereof; ran errands this morning; it was fun. Bought a French Press coffee pot because the automatic drip pot has been turning out lousy coffee although cleaned out with vinegar; it was stupid, bought a Mr. Coffee and I’ve never liked them at all. Feeling dog tired and will probably turn in early. During the week I taped a pair of movies produced by William Cameron Menzies on TCM that I watched today, and man, these were good. The first one I watched was, “The Black Book” a story set in Paris during the Reign of Terror; it was like film noir eighteenth century; good story, great style. With Robespierre, Marat and a host of Citizens. All through the movie I had the annoying nagging lack of remembering something…I know Charlotte Corday stabbed one of the leaders of the Revolution in the bathtub, but can’t for the life of me remember who it was…will have to google myself out of a senior moment. The second one I watched is really terrific: “Ivy,” from 1947 with Joan Fontaine, Herbert Marshall, Sir Cedric Hardwicke. This was an incredibly well produced, well filmed and acted movie with an incredible movie score, especially the medium’s theme was played from time to time during Ivy’s acts of evil. All shot during gaslit London, but late enough to have telephones and airplanes. Gorgeous costumes as well. I enjoyed both of them very much, and especially, “Ivy.” Looking forward to watching it again. And again, let me say, excellent cinematography.
Had a wonderful, interesting revelation driving to work this morning, on a golden, cold, beautiful Friday morning. I realize that I now feel so comfortable with you that it wouldn’t bother me at all if you saw how messy my kitchen and bathroom are right now, wouldn’t bother me at all because I feel that at ease with you. Whereas before I would have been mortified. Is this a breakthrough? It feels rather wonderful.
This morning also driving in some time later after the above charming revelation, I began taking stock of my most used driving expressions as I weave the obstacle course on the way to work, and on weekends going here and there and realized it is this one for several years now: “See if it isn’t an asshole in a Lexus!” I am convinced that certain obnoxious personality types, especially obnoxious drivers, gravitate to a Lexus. I will add one exception to that category for this reason. The other night I was trying to leave the parking lot at Joe W’s, a left turn against traffic. Suddenly this sleek pretty blue small sports car stopped and waved me to go ahead. Very nice indeed. I was taken aback to see the L for Lexus on the front fender, this kindness actually coming the driver of a Lexus. I decided it was the personality that is drawn to sports cars that is kindest, and will allow a Lexus sportscar driver who is kind exception from my otherwise negative classification. Harumph.
Have to share this gem of a trailer. Awakened early this morning, got coffee, sat down to supposedly look at the news and the telly turned right on to TCM and a closeup of a youthful Michael Caine. So I didn’t turn the channel because I like Michael Caine but didn’t know was I was looking at–a quick check of the guide told me it was, “The Swarm.” Olivia deHavilland, Fred MacMurray, Katherine Ross, Richard Widmark, Henry Fonda, a really gorgeous bearded Richard Chamberlain, Lord, What-A-Waste, and a stellar cast. I had missed the opening credits so I didn’t know who directed it or produced, but by the non-stop disasters, deaths of famous actors, including Fred who went right out of a train window when the killers bees caused it to wreck, I truly began to suspect it was that comedian, Irwin Allen, whose “Earthquake” had me in stitches. Turns out I was right; this one didn’t make me laugh the way Earthquake did, but I find this man’s disaster pictures sometimes impossible to ignore even when they reek. So, I have to include this trailer. Don’t say I never do you any favors.
I’m not surprised, since the Federal Judge who was given lawsuit against removal of the Confederate monuments was appointed by Clinton in the 90’s, that he tossed it out. He even told the plaintiffs he didn’t understand their argument.
I can just imagine what monuments there will be to replace them.