Reformation

Wow!  I haven't written anything in quite awhile.  I was sort of dreading having to write something, as if it were a chore.  I worked for hours constructing my previous two posts; each developing exactly as I wished, remaining perfect.  This one will not--cannot, be that.  I want a hot mess.  This is not for the health of the blog, it is for myself.

There is a book I read, one that really deserves its own post.  But since I doubt I'll ever get to that, I'll unload it here:

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers

I liked this book more than all of the others.  The others I've read.  For some reason, though, it took me nearly two months to read.  An innocent purchase in a local thrift store because "it's on those lists they make" turned into a life experience.  The first chapter was immediately riveting, mostly because of the elephantized question: Why is [this character] doing this?  It wasn't in an annoyed "look at that dumbass" sense, it was curiosity, as [this character]'s motivations were potentially significant to the human condition.  Each chapter had the potential to stand alone; it was a book of linked short stories.  All of the characters were significant.  McCullers illuminated their thoughts in a way which made them supremely relatable and/or likable, or just real.  Every conversation had a subliminal dimension, one barely accessible to the reader; perhaps it was unstatable, yet recognizable.  Inarticulable, yet present are the words I'm looking for.  In the recent months I've dipped into African-American literature, reading--why I'll list them!

Listed in order of completion
Soul on Ice  :  Eldridge Cleaver
Between the World and Me  :  Ta-Nehisi Coates
The Fire Next Time  :  James Baldwin
Appeal  :  David Walker
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl  :  Harriet Jacobs
Their Eyes Were Watching God  :  Zora Neale Hurston
Invisible Man  :  Ralph Ellison [I'm in the middle of this book]

So, while McCullers is not black, she creates a character--Dr. Copeland--whom embodied my gravitation toward reading about the black condition in America.  I want to hear the black intellectual voice.  As I approached the conclusion of this book, I was intensely aware of the personal significance of this book to me, and began to imagine myself experiencing a sort of transcendent bliss upon reading its last words.  Despite the seemingly unreachably high standards, this essentially happened, which was incredible.

I don't know the nature of my literary canon (because I haven't thought about it enough), but this book is unquestionably in it.

So the movie I watched was Moonrise Kingdom.  It was my second time watching it, but first time getting it.  Although I've only seen three of his films, I feel confident in saying this is Wes Anderson's best.  His style somehow returns the viewer to a sensory experience of a child--of happy and sad, good and bad--yet does not outright dismiss the nihilistic conclusion we've all come upon.  Each shot looks cool.  The writing is funny.  The acting is not entirely human, it's 'Wes Anderson'-human.  A place, certainly not of Earth, created for a true expression of innocence, of honesty.

Please endure.

I imagine my next post will be more focused, more deliberate, and necessarily, less honest syntactically, but perhaps more honest semantically.