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It’s been awhile, so I thought I’d get back into posting with a tribute to my second favorite Eric Rohmer film, Love in the Afternoon (sometimes called Chloe in the Afternoon in the English-speaking world).
I love so many things about Rohmer’s Six Moral Tales series, and it’s fitting that the series ends with this film, because it’s the most fully formed, and flawlessly executed — the cinematography, dialogue, acting, script — everything.
I’ve transcribed the opening monologue below. It might be the highlight of the film.
On the train, I much prefer a book to a newspaper, and not only because it’s less cumbersome. The paper does not absorb my attention enough and, above all, doesn’t take me sufficiently out of the present. The ride allows me the does of uninterrupted reading I like to take in at one time.I like to read at home at night too, but other things. I like to read several books at once, each with its own time and place, each taking me out of the time and place in which I live. But I could never read all alone in a bare cell. I need a physical presence there with me. As a student, unless I had to study, I couldn’t stay in my room after dinner. Now Helene and I rarely go out.
Why, among all the possible beauties, was it her beauty that struck me? I’m no longer sure of the answer.
Now, when I see a woman, I’m no longer able to classify her as easily among the chosen or the outcasts. I’m not only less sure of my taste, but I can’t recall on what criteria I based my judgment. What was that “something” that a woman had to have to attract me and that I could detect at first glance? Since my marriage, I find all women attractive. In their most mundane tasks, I accord them that mystery I once denied almost all of them. I’m curious about their lives, even if they teach me nothing new. What if I met this young woman three years ago? Would she have caught my eye? Would I have fallen in love with her, wanted to have a child with her?
I love the city. The suburbs and provinces depress me. Despite the crush and the noise, I never tire of plunging into the crowd. I love the crowd as I love the sea. Not to be engulfed or lost in it, but to sail on it like a solitary pirate, content to be carried by the current yet strike out on my own the moment it breaks or dissipates. Like the sea, a crowd is invigorating to my wandering mind. Almost all my ideas come to me in the street, even those related to my work.
In in the first part of this two-part post, I summed up some of the positive points of the Android-powered LG Optimus V and the Virgin Mobile US voice and data networks. Now on to the criticisms: I wanted to originally write this follow-up post towards the end of the year, giving me a solid 6 months or so to test out the features, but after about 4 months my wife and decided to bail on our devices. As I mentioned in the earlier post, unless you live next to a tower, the Virgin Mobile (Sprint-powered) network is horrendous. Our entire apartment was a huge service dead zone. When we wanted to make or receive calls we’d have to step outside or press our faces and handsets to our dining area window. Didn’t make much sense in terms of productivity or sanity to keep the phones any longer, so a couple of days ago we bailed and went with AT&T… But, before I go any further, I should voice some of my complaints about Android and the LG device:
Twitter as Google Reader Replacement -
For the past few weeks I had pondered a couple questions that the attached link answers/solves quite nicely: how does one kill (or at the very least cut-down on) the time-suck that is RSS and what’s a good use for Twitter aside from sending the random missive about English soccer?
The title of the “lost” Roberto Bolaño novel, now being serialized by the Paris Review (starting with the Spring 2011 issue). I ripped through first two available installments in one or two nights a few weeks ago. I have a copy of 2666 on the shelf that I need to crack open, but aside from that, I haven’t read any of his other work.
That said, if the The Third Reich is any indication of Bolaño style, I see a similarity between both he and Haruki Murakami, especially in some of Murakami’s less surreal work like South of the Border, West of the Sun or Sputnik Sweetheart. Bolaño’s translated prose comes across as a little more complex than Murakami’s (not saying there isn’t a depth to Murakami’s work), but the mysterious plot developments and focus on the banalities of everyday life (what the characters are eating, wearing, etc.) are similar.
Here’s hoping the final two installments hold up.
After several years of holding out, about 4 months ago me and the wife jumped on the smart-phone bandwagon and purchased a couple of Android-powered LG Optimus Vs through the Virgin Mobile network.
Up to that point, we’d been using old fashioned Motorola flip-phones through Verizon and a iPod touch to check email when we were away from home at a hot-spot. Needless to say, if you’ve ever been a Verizon wireless customer you know the service coverage is excellent, but like with most contract providers, the cost to own a smart-phone with a sufficient amount of minutes and bandwidth can be pricey. Hence, we chose Virgin: $25/month for 300 anytime minutes (no unlimited nights or weekends) but unlimited data and texting (NB. They’ve raised the price on this plan to $35/month for new customers).
Virign uses the Sprint network for cell and data coverage. There’s really no sense in sugarcoating it: if you live in an old building with thick walls, or outside a metro region, the service sucks. It doesn’t matter what their coverage map says, it’s at best an approximation. Sure, I might be sitting in my living room, near a window, with no tree coverage to speak of, not a cloud in the sky and still feel the hurt of absolutely no signal whatsoever. Yet, while rifling through Icelandic yogurt containers in the dairy section at the back of the Whole Foods I’m provided with spectacular five bar coverage. How is this possible?
Anyway, when those times arrive, when I’m lingering at some godforsaken Yankee Candle Company and can use my perfect reception to maximize the Virgin Mobile service and Android to fullest, I’ve been met with a mixed bag of pleasures and disappointments.
Android (we’re running 2.2, by the way) is a nice OS. The startup time on my device is faster than on my old Motorola. After booting, the apps I use most (Android’s web browser, Opera Mobile, Gmail, Email, Google Reader) load quickly. The OS is simple to use, and the learning curve was virtually nil (though we had some iOS experience with our iPod touch, and the concepts between the two are virtually the same).
Far and away the coolest Android feature is the Swype-powered keyboard that makes typing with a touch screen much more efficient than with the iPod touch (this may have improved with newer iOS versions, not sure), or any other smart-phone/mobile touch screen I’ve used up to this point.
The voice-to-text feature is also noteworthy, though it requires a network connection to function. The accuracy is quite good, even for somewhat obscure terms or place names. When I first tried it, I thought I’d be using it for everything, but that hasn’t been the case. That’s not to say it’s a novelty, it’s not, but I find it difficult to use when composing a text or email. Maybe users who frequently use voice-to-text programs on their desktops would be more comfortable here.
Criticisms to follow in part two. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.
A few weeks ago I finished Thomas Mann’s The Magic Mountain. I’m not sure how to best describe what I felt when reading the novel. Maybe some combination of enjoyment, at times an acute feeling of being overwhelmed, a touch of boredom — a whole gambit of emotions, really. If you know nothing about it, the book is around a young man (Hans Castorp) who visits his cousin at a tuberculosis sanatorium in the Swiss Alps in the years leading up to World War I. What is supposed to be a weeks long visit turns into seven years.
So, being a novel of ideas (and probably the textbook definition of a bildungsroman), not much happens in the way of plot. We’re introduced to a number of allegorical characters, with interesting, sometimes amusing personalities (see the Dionysian Mynheer Peeperkorn — an early 20th century Goldmember; yes, that Goldmember!); all of whom try and shape the mind of young Hans, while he, “plays king” (I feel confident this isn’t a reference to masturbation), dabbling in his new found philosophies, allowing time to work its magic on both his body and soul.
The Magic Mountain is littered with cultural and literary references, which, in spots border on insufferable. Naphta’s monologue on the Freemasons comes to mind, as does most of the late dialogue between Settembrini and Naphta. Yet as painful, as some of these sections were to read, you could infer they were used as a stylistic device — a way of elongating one’s sense of (and a play on the recurring theme of) time; on how quick or slow time moved for Hans up on the mountain, and in turn, how it moves for the reader while absorbed in the narrative. Also, I won’t lie, even the slow parts had their own little pleasures; the prose is sublime, much better than the ramblings of some amateur Tumblr blogger…
Not long after finishing I remember feeling the desire to open the front cover and begin reading again. So, maybe it’s coincidental that Thomas Mann remarked anyone wanting to have a better understanding of the novel should read it twice. Advice worth heeding. Now if I could only find the time.
Pardon the delay. We’ve had a neutering and DNS issues to attend to. Regular blogging should resume shortly (ie. more soccer posts).
Hoping for an EPL game to follow this morning, ESPN3 was streaming a Bundesliga match between FC Augusburg (recently promoted to Bundesliga 1) and FC Kaiserslautern at Kaiserslautern. As will probably be the case during much of the season, halftime was spent doing a little wiki research on both the clubs and the Bundesliga in general.
Evidently, Kaiserslautern is home to 50,000 NATO troops, many of them American, with Ramstein AFB located in the vicinity. This brings to question the number of Americans attending these games and how much American interest there is in the European soccer leagues in general. I can assume if the popularity of MLS in this country is any indication, it’s a small, but growing share (more on this in a future post).
Anyway, Augsburg dominated most of the first half until Kaiserslautern turned things around, and put a little more pressure on the offensive end, resulting in a 1-1 draw.
Of what I’ve seen of both leagues, the competition and level of play seem to be equal between the EPL and Bundesliga. Of course, this is coming from my rather nascent fandom, so it will be interesting to see how both seasons play out, and how profound my knowledge is come next summer. Ultimately, if I can maintain an icy Bob Bradley-esque stare, gazing into the TV screen, unblinking and undistracted, assimilating an entire match between, say, Wigan and Blackburn, I’ll consider myself successful.