In five days, on April 23, we will commemorate the 402 anniversary of Shakespeare’s death, April 23, 1616. Of course, this is an Old Calendar date. In 1616, England was using the Julian Calendar. The Gregorian Calendar was introduced in October of the year Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway, The Gregorian Calendar was not introduced in England until September 1752.
The monthly/quarterly review published and edited by Jay V. Ruvolo on ISSUU.COM since August 2016.
I used to spend so much time reading what I hated in order to hate it with authority. I don’t know if we do that. I know after years of having done it, I cannot do it with the same fervor, no. I’m tired, I don’t have to guess. I am just asking if anyone does this as a matter of course in his or her critique.
Hugo Ball died in 1927 at the age of 41.He was born in 1886. He was one of the founding members of the Dada movement (?) . . . do we call it so? Ball left the Zurich centered movement, revolving around the Cafe Voltaire in that city, citing that Dada and Dadaist antics were only flirtations with what was seriously wrong with European Bourgeois Civilization. Deeper troubles, of course. he was a savage critic of the German Intelligentsia,
Power does manage always all the time everywhere to give space for some amount of subversion to arise in order to control it. Our particularly virulent strain of the Bourgeois Capitalist virus allows the illusion of subversion to stand for actually subversive impulses. Nothing more evident of this than ____________ (whatever it is you imagine in this contemporaneity speaks Truth to Power instead of helping to keep it in the shadows, which of course is what most if not all of our rebellious impulses wind up achieving . . . ).
We really aren’t literate enough to see.
I was given a gift card to pick out two Christmas presents that I said I had wanted. One of the presents I wanted was the Complete Montaigne, the Everyman edition, but I could not find it where I looked, and I did look in several places. (It does not surprise me because with the corporate takeover of education, especially higher education, too many of the products of that education imagine themselves intelligent enough, literate enough to be radical enough to believe they can do without connection to anything that has been a product of the intellectual currents of what we used to call Western Civilization, perhaps eschewing Montaigne most assuredly because he was [is] white and male, perhaps more so in America because he is French?) One clerk at a bookseller never contacted me after he said he was going to order the aforementioned, so I let it go. (People in positions to help people often do not because they feel they are under paid. It remains very annoying.)
I had also wanted Truffaut’s Jules and Jim, since last year Jeanne Moreau died. I adored the film when I was in my twenties–I adored her. I first saw it at an art house cinema decades ago while I was studying with Bill Packard at HB Studio on Bank Street in the West Village–it’s no longer there–the art house cinema–as so many places like that for film are gone. HB is there, although Packard is dead . . . I am not going to tell you about the day I found out and how and where and with whom and what we were doing and did after . . . .
I did not get the Montaigne, nor did I find the Truffaiut film at B&N when I looked there among their Criterion Collection. Instead of Truffaut, I decided to get Goddard’s Breathless. As far as a book to complete my intentions, I bought Alfred Doblin’s Berlin Alexanderplatz, perhaps because I have recently become enamored with the Netflix Original series Babylon Berlin, the later taking -place in the year Doblin’s book was published, 1929. Best television I have seen in years????
It’s only been a couple of weeks that I am in possession of the two. I have only just started the novel, but I was in the middle of re-reading Kafka’s The Trial and Brecht’s Three Penny Opera, as well as from a copy I found in the library of Radio Benjamin which collects somewhere in the neighborhood of eighty of Benjamin’s radio broadcast transcripts he delivered on Berlin radio between 1927 and 1933.
Berlin in the 20s . . . !
I have already watched the film mentioned above, which I have seen before, I cannot say how many times . . . but it seems as if it would have to be at least a few or more. I miss the arthouse cinemas of NYC when I was a young man.