|
De Britse schrijver Tim Fountain werd geboren op 23 december 1967 in Dewsbury, West Yorkshire. Zie ook mijn blog van 23 december 2008.xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
Uit: Icons: Quentin Crisp
If Quentin Crisp had not existed, I doubt anyone would have had the nerve to invent him. With his
rouged cheeks, painted toenails and vast birds nest comb-over hair, the self-styled stately homo
of England looked like a creature from another planet. And it wasnt just Crisps appearance, which he described as a leaflet thrust into the hands of astonished bystanders, that marked him out from the rest of society; his views, too, often made him an outsider. Cleaning was a waste of time because after the first four years the dust doesnt get any worse, sex was the last refuge of the miserable and Princess Diana was trash who got what she deserved. The celebrated writer and raconteur described himself as a man who was merely famous for wearing make-up, and yet when he died in 1999 it was headline news on the BBC and even the Daily Mail devoted two pages to the subject. But who was the real Quentin Crisp, or to use Mail parlance, the man behind the mascara, and what made him such an unlikely superstar?
This was the question the actor Bette Bourne and myself attempted to answer when we went to visit Crisp in New York on a freezing March day in 1999 to research Resident Alien, the play I was writing about him. It provided a fascinating insight. Despite being 90 years old at the time and globally famous (the TV version of his book, The Naked Civil Servant, starring John Hurt, played to millions of people all over the world), Crisp was still living in the tiny, filthy, one-room apartment off the Bowery that he had emigrated to in 1980. The electricity in the building was so weak that it wouldnt power the doorbell, so Bette had to call him from the box on the corner to get him to let us in. When he did so, the ancient icon greeted us at the door in his trademark fedora hat and scarf and stars-and-stripes brooch before leading us up the narrow staircase to perhaps the most famous bedsit in the world.
Nothing, not even a lifetime of quotes about his hatred of domestic chores, could have prepared me for what I saw. The room was tiny and utterly filthy, the curtains were thick with dirt, which obscured the light, and his tiny two-ring stove was utterly coated in grime. When Crisp first moved into this apartment, someone accused him of having the dust shipped in from Fortnum and Mason; if he had, they must have stopped delivering in recent years because this dirt was real. Crisp clearly practised what he preached.
Tim Fountain (Dewsbury, 23 december 1967)
De Franse dichter, schrijver en essayist Marcelin Pleynet werd geboren op 23 december 1933 in Lyon. Zie ook mijn blog van 23 december 2008.
Uit: Le Propre du temps
Avec cette langue-ci
bien avant l'injustice
à disposition
comme si c'était possible
je cherche dans l'histoire du temps
de la vérité dans l'erreur
J'ai rêvé...
la flotte achéenne dans le Golfe
les drapeaux tendus
l'or noir brûlant dans les déserts
la fumée épaisse sur nous
grassement payés
un océan de pétrole où flottait la navicella del nostro ingenio
Avec les deux yeux
j'ai rêvé
le grec et l'hébreu en même temps
Pensée en même temps sauvage et bornée : la fratrie universelle
cette machine de guerre du refoulement
"Qui aura le pied assez vif pour en sortir d'un bond ?"
Lequel est le chef ?
Qui commande l'armée ?
Nous sommes légion !
Uit: Stanze
Chant IV
Éclair ou tonnerre
Lucrèce ami de tout au monde le dit
ainsi par l'univers s'envolent les pensées de
la nature
Quant à moi en lisant je suis sans maître et sans
pensée
Et je laisse vers moi l'année perdue dans
la matière
Et ces sages roseaux ceux qui disent la science
Et les éclats de leur vie cachée selon le rythme des
héros lorsque je les rencontre dans l'histoire comme
Dante aux enfers
toujours luttant contre l'obscurité
et toujours sans repos
Sans limite là ne sachant plus ce que je peux trouver
avec joie
Et pourtant comme tant d'autres porteurs d'étincelles
dans le vide
Après des siècles ce qui n'est plus continue de chanter
dans la saveur brûlante du plaisir et de la poésie
où il porta l'art-guerre docti furor arduus Lucreti
le premier
plus proche dans la grande douleur vidée
de l'univers et de l'océan qui l'emporte histoire opéra
de la science logique à la portée de notre histoire
ici
comme à la porte des enfers
AOI.
Marcelin Pleynet (Lyon, 23 december 1933)
De Amerikaanse dichter en schrijver Robert Bly werd geboren op 23 december 1926 in Madison, Minnesota. Zie ook mijn blog van 23 december 2008.
Snowbanks North of the House
Those great sweeps of snow that stop suddenly six
feet from the house ...
Thoughts that go so far.
The boy gets out of high school and reads no more
books;
the son stops calling home.
The mother puts down her rolling pin and makes no
more bread.
And the wife looks at her husband one night at a
party, and loves him no more.
The energy leaves the wine, and the minister falls
leaving the church.
It will not come closer
the one inside moves back, and the hands touch
nothing, and are safe.
The father grieves for his son, and will not leave the
room where the coffin stands.
He turns away from his wife, and she sleeps alone.
And the sea lifts and falls all night, the moon goes on
through the unattached heavens alone.
The toe of the shoe pivots
in the dust ...
And the man in the black coat turns, and goes back
down the hill.
No one knows why he came, or why he turned away,
and did not climb the hill.
The Cat in the Kitchen
(For Donald Hall)
Have you heard about the boy who walked by
The black water? I won't say much more.
Let's wait a few years. It wanted to be entered.
Sometimes a man walks by a pond, and a hand
Reaches out and pulls him in.
There was no
Intention, exactly. The pond was lonely, or needed
Calcium, bones would do. What happened then?
It was a little like the night wind, which is soft,
And moves slowly, sighing like an old woman
In her kitchen late at night, moving pans
About, lighting a fire, making some food for the cat.
Robert Bly (Madison, 23 december 1926)
De Amerikaanse schrijver Norman Fitzroy Maclean werd geboren op 23 december 1902 in Clarinda, Iowa. Zie ook mijn blog van 23 december 2008.
Uit: Young Men and Fire
Then Dodge saw it. Rumsey and Sallee didnt, and probably none of the rest of the crew did either. Dodge was thirty-three and foreman and was supposed to see; he was in front where he could see. Besides, he hadnt liked what he had seen when he looked down the canyon after he and Harrison had returned to the landing area to get something to eat, so his seeing powers were doubly on the alert. Rumsey and Sallee were young and they were crew and were carrying tools and rubbernecking at the fire across the gulch. Dodge takes only a few words to say what the it was he saw next: We continued down the canyon for approximately five minutes before I could see that the fire had crossed Mann Gulch and was coming up the ridge toward us.
Neither Rumsey nor Sallee could see the fire that was now on their side of the gulch, but both could see smoke coming toward them over a hogback directly in front. As for the main fire across the gulch, it still looked about the same to them, confined to the upper third of the slope.
At the Review, Dodge estimated they had a 150- to 200-yard head start on the fire coming at them on the north side of the gulch. He immediately reversed direction and started back up the canyon, angling toward the top of the ridge on a steep grade. When asked why he didnt go straight for the top there and then, he answered that the ground was too rocky and steep and the fire was coming too fast to dare to go at right angles to it.
You may ask yourself how it was that of the crew only Rumsey and Sallee survived. If you had known ahead of time that only two would survive, you probably never would have picked these twothey were first-year jumpers, this was the first fire they had ever jumped on, Sallee was one year younger than the minimum age, and around the base they were known as roommates who had a pretty good time for themselves. They both became big operators in the world of the woods and prairies, and part of this story will be to find them and ask them why they think they alone survived, but even if ultimately your answer or theirs seems incomplete, this seems a good place to start asking the question. In their statements soon after the fire, both say that the moment Dodge reversed the route of the crew they became alarmed, for, even if they couldnt see the fire, Dodges order was to run from one. They reacted in seconds or less. They had been traveling at the end of the line because they were carrying unsheathed saws. When the head of the line started its switchback, Rumsey and Sallee left their positions at the end of the line, put on extra speed, and headed straight uphill, connecting with the front of the line to drop into it right behind Dodge.
Norman Maclean (23 december 1902 2 augustus 1990)
Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 23e december ook mijn twee vorige blogs van vandaag.
|
