Review: ‘French Decadent Tales’


9780199569274I just finished reading semi-recent collection/translation of short stories from the French Decadent movement. The title is helpfully entitled: French Decadent Tales. No confusion there.

And no confusion within, either.

I read it over some time – three months, in fact – because otherwise, the stories can quickly run into each other. It’s a great beach read, but bring something else to read in between each of the stories. Reading it over some months also means that the stories are not so clear in my mind anymore.

The first half of the collection is strongest in the memory and is undoubtedly where most of the gems can be found. These stories are ripe, gothic, (in the sense that the Cure and Bauhaus are gothic, not a gothic church, nor even necessarily a gothic novel; they are far too gem-like for the wordiness of a Radcliffe) and indulgent. Don Juan’s Crowning Love-Affair is sad, stately paced, erotic, and disturbing. Presentiment reads like a lost tale of Poe, rediscovered, with the odor of an unfallen but still suicidally melancholy House of Usher and The Dandy of the Unpredictable is amusingly perverse.

The best ones are of a piece with the German writer, E.T.A. Hoffmann and his tales (which my father gifted me with when I was in junior high). Don Juan is a recurring theme and figure here and it is hard not to recall the ghostly companion in the opera box in Hoffmann’s tale.

But the collection, on the whole, is uneven and it did not win me over from the side of French poetry to the side of French prose. The obsession with death is sickly sweet in large does and the proto-Freudian conflation of sex and death/Eros and Thanatos can feel overwhelmingly in such compact forms, pressed close against each other.

Oh. And happy Friday the 13th.

Review: ‘The Catholic Writer Today’ By Dana Gioia


The good folks at Wise Blood Books sent me a chapbook of Dana Gioia’s long essay, The Catholic Writer Today. Unfortunately, it was sent to my mother’s house, so I’m just now finishing it.

First thoughts. Gioia is an excellent writer and a better poet and I share with him a disappointment in the decline of English language and especially American writers who are willing to explicitly let their Catholic faith be part of their public identity and let it inform their writing that way that O’Connor, Tolkien, Greene, and others did.

But I think that he goes down the wrong track and misses greater obstacles to a Catholic writer renaissance than his lament for the decline of literature friendly, Catholic periodicals.

What absorbs the Catholic intellectual media is politics, conducted mostly in secular terms—a dreary battle of right versus left for the soul of the American Church. If the soul of Roman Catholicism is to be found in partisan politics, then it’s probably time to shutter up the chapel. If the universal Church isn’t capacious enough to contain a breadth of political opinion, then the faith has shriveled into something unrecognizably paltry. If Catholic Christianity does not offer a vision of existence that transcends the election cycle, if our redemption is social and our resurrection economic, then it’s time to render everything up to Caesar.

I fear he understates the pernicious influence of reactionary radicals co-opting public faith. Furthermore, I fear he deliberately understates it so as to avoid drawing ire and by doing so, he fails to stake the ground that a revival needs. The Catholic League, under its stridently partisan leader, William Donohue, would certainly have no stomach for the brilliant grotesqueries of a modern Flannery O’Connor.

Art. Literature. Poetry.

These things are inherently liberal and progressive (even if individual practitioners are not) and when faith wears a conservative face, it becomes inherently unwelcoming to artists, writers, and poets.

Which is why Gioia’s criticism of the liberalizations of Vatican II are so infuriating and wrong headed. The Catholic writer did not fade into the background because the Latin Mass did! Vatican II was an open, spiritual engagement with the material world, much like the great, mid century Catholic writers Gioia so lauds. They emerged out of the same spirit and their influence has declined because of the same backlash against liberalism.

Here is my hopeful prophecy: I will wager that one of the legacies of His Holiness, Francis I, will be artistic. By giving the church a welcoming, loving, and liberal face, he is also welcoming writers and artists and poets and intellectuals back into the church and opening up greater possibilities for writers to let their work by informed by their personal association with the church because they will be able to do so with the knowledge that church is not going to judge or reject them, anymore than Waugh, Greene, Tolkien, or O’Connor were for their guilt, sins, doubts, gothicism, or obsessions with lost, pagan worlds.

Weekend Reading – I Should Be Working There


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I want one of these offices.

Great people, each and every one!

More manifestos, please!

Going Home


From the ending of Yevtushenko’s long poem, ‘Zima Junction.’

Don’t worry if you have no answer ready
To the last question.
Hold out, meditate, listen.
Explore. Explore. Travel the world over.
Count happiness connatural to the mind
More than truth is, and yet
No happiness to exist without it.
Walk with a cold pride
Utterly ahead
Wild attentive eyes
Head flicked by the rain-wet
Green needles of the pine,
Eyelashes that shine
With tears and thunders.
Love people.
Love entertains its own discrimination. 
Have me in mind,
I shall be watching.
You can return to me.
Now go.

Yevtushenko was only twenty-three when he wrote that about coming back home to the rural, frozen community where he grew up. There is something of the young man in there – more than a little, in fact – but it’s mind boggling how mature he was, seeing with poet’s eyes.

‘Love people.’

When I wrote about ‘Zime Junction’ before (see here), I got the maturity of the style, but not the content. I loved the long, Wordsworthian excursions (pun intended) – though with a different kind of melancholy than that which suffuses the Lake Country sage (was Wordsworth ever young?) – but really missed out on the closing of the poem the first time. I wonder now how often he did return after that first time back?

Happy Birthday, Thomas Hardy


Happy birthday to, hands down, the most depressing novelist I have ever read. Love your poetry, but your novels make me despair.

Weekend Reading – In Praise Of All The Saints


St. Mark’s is saved!

Another one (Amazon user) bites the dust.

They had a sort of reunion of these folks a couple years ago at the Folger Shakespeare Library and it was a great night and a great reading. I’m certainly jealous of their experiences.

This is part of a short series about poetry and poets, viewed through the lens of the western Zodiac. This last one contains my sign – Libra. How does this analysis relate to me, to my poetry? Does it? In truth, I always like to think that maybe it does, even if only a little…

A marvelous summer reading list from a great bookstore.

He did and so should you.

Here Is My Final Statement On The Matter


Landon Donovan deserves, on form, skill, leadership and experience to be a started for the United States Men’s National Team in Brazil. He is not the player he was four years ago, but he is still better than every American midfielder save Michael Bradley and, while not a pure striker, by any means, a more reliable source of goals and assists than anyone American striker (and yes, he is better than Clint Dempsey who is more one-dimensional; Dempsey brings hustle and a Paul Scholes’ like ability to ghost into goal scoring positions from the midfield and deeper areas, but he does not have the creativity nor the ball control nor the dribbling skills of Donovan).

He was left off because Klinsmann got upset because Donovan took a sabbatical from the sport, missing some national team games in early 2013 (though giving notice – he didn’t just not show up). Klinsmann couldn’t understand and didn’t forgive and that’s all she wrote.

There are no footballing reasons for America’s best attacker not be on the plane to the World Cup. And make no mistake, we were never likely to make it out of our group (the proverbial group of death). And if we were to make it out, it would be from an unlikely goal against a top team like Germany or Portugal. And if we were going to score that goal (a “John O’Brien moment”), it was only really likely to come from Donovan. Even if Dempsey were to turn it on, without Donovan to create chances and draw defenders away, he’s going to lack for space. And flat track bullies like Wondolowski and flat footed slowsters like Brad Davis won’t create that space and those chances against top opposition.

And one more thing, should it come up, Donovan was also our most reliable penalty taker. No one wants to see Clint take another penalty kick again.

Monday Morning Staff Meeting – Advice From The Dead


Ralph Waldo Emerson is talking to the young’uns.

Mathematical Ulysses.