q. i. f.?

indicative mood

HB in a brilliantly crafted portrait-style piece that I was fortunate to spot on Twitter today. Recalls thoughts I had in mind in a post here a couple of years ago, and makes, plainly, a far better demonstration to suit them than I’ll ever produce.

As an oblique indicator of the character of shift under way in my life in the past year or so, let me describe a weird coincidence in my life with books. My life with books is nothing remarkable overall, it needs to be said. But lately there are a few particulars worth remarking on. A good part of this has to do with moving to New York and the connections that brought me to it — as this post not quite a year old will suffice to suggest — and a good part has to do with the direction my work has gone since the move. Those are related things, or things that make sense taken together anyway, and deserve (and may yet get, who can tell?) more treatment in this space.

wait, there’s more.

It’s not exactly news now, of course, but I’ve only learned with release of the first issue today that there’s a new H.B. series. (Being drawn by a first-rate artist, too.) This series is noteworthy particularly in that it seems set to pick up with story material never thoroughly developed in the twenty years these characters have been in print, presenting H.B. once again as American superhero fighting monsters, now in the middle rather than at the end of the twentieth century. How about that? I can’t help taking it as a little bit of a challenge to find the thread of my occasional thoughts on the subject and return to them. It’s going to be some months before I read any of this new stuff, probably, since I don’t buy until issues (in digital form) go on sale. But I’m basically interested in what Mignola’s raised or suggested with what he’s already done, anyhow, more than in what he’s going to do next. There’s plenty to talk about as it is, without new material. This new material definitely is a nice prod to get back to it, though, if I can find the time.

Noting here a two-week-old article in the NYRB about the Jew-caricature in medi­eval Europe and its connection to evolving Christian tradition.

In accord with the new devotions, artworks had just begun to portray Christ as humbled and dying. Some Christians struggled with the new imagery, dis­comfited by the sight of divine suffering. Proponents of the new devotions criticized such resistance. Failure to be properly moved by portrayals of Christ’s affliction was identified with ‘Jewish’ hard-hearted ways of looking. In this and many other images, then, the Jew’s prominent nose serves pri­marily to draw attention to the angle of his head, turned ostentatiously away from the sight of Christ, and so links the Jew’s misbegotten flesh to his misdirected gaze.

The author, Sara Lipton, teaches history and Judaic studies; I gather she’s been working on the story of the development of anti-semitic imagery for a long time. The article seems intended to introduce her new book Dark Mirror.

This would be a fine occasion, obviously, to pick up again with what I started in May, but I don’t have time for it now. Hope to come back to it in the new year, perhaps.

And now, merely for example’s sake, I will, with your permission, read a few lines of a true book with you, carefully; and see what will come out of them. I will take a book perfectly known to you all. No English words are more familiar to us, yet few perhaps have been read with less sincerity. I will take these few following lines of Lycidas:

Last came, and last did go,
The pilot of the Galilean lake.
Two massy keys he bore of metals twain,
(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain,)
He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake,
‘How well could I have spared for thee, young swain,
Enow of such as for their bellies’ sake
Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold!
Of other care they little reckoning make,
Than how to scramble at the shearers’ feast,
And shove away the worthy bidden guest
Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold
A sheep-hook, or have learn’d aught else, the least
That to the faithful herdsman’s art belongs!
What recks it them? What need they? They are sped;
And when they list, their lean and flashy songs
Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw;
The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed,
But, swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw,
Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread;
Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw
Daily devours apace, and nothing said.’

wait, there’s more.

Stephen Fry, Big Think interview

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vy5ajEoh8jk&w=280&h=160]

Jesse Boykins III, Amorous

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBBZ-2PzSgY&w=280&h=160]

San Francisco Jazz Collective, Superstition

  N. Fremont Ave. & Harlem Ave.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4aXG-sIaamI&w=280&h=160]

Reinhardt, Grappelli, J’attendrai

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