Wednesday 26 October 2011

Memoirs of a Confused Spaceman #2



Savagery as art intellectualised


Is one of those spinning thoughts where supernovae are no more


Than eye candy


an explosion


Switched on by  dieties


With not much else to do but


Float and game and think about


Savagery as an art form as a


Chess piece perhaps a rook in the shape of a skyscraper


Humans reaching for the stars whilst staying


Firmly rooted to the ground in Terra


Deep in Terror          firm


Where savagery is a totem


Of art appreciation


Spinning





In a gallery halogen light no more direct light


On the canvases because of the risk of photonic


damage


Clutching a rail on the side of the spacecraft


My own totem


My only home so far out here in space


With a starfield as my canvas


Enveloped by stellar phenomena


Clothed in many colours we will never


Ever see on


This spacewalk this floating to a state where


Savagery is less of a political statement and more of


An artistic one free from ideology and sense


It makes sense of the anarchist’s symbol I painted on the back of my suit


It is my gesture to the stars


A small one


But I think God understands

September 2011

Wednesday 15 June 2011

Briar Rose and Spanking the Maid by Robert Coover

Robert Coover is probably one of the most accomplished writers over on the other side of the pond who tackles the myths of America in a cerebral, yet still accessible way, without falling into the trap of writing 250000 word epics about life in a small town, whilst trying desperately [usually in vain] to be the next Great American Novel.


 To my mind, playing around with fairy tales is therefore a perfectly logical way to tackle that illusive concept of The American Dream, and that is exactly what Coover does in the first of these two novellas.


 Briar Rose is a take on Sleeping Beauty, and although on the surface seemingly 'all about sex' in classic Freudian mode- many of the metaphors are laden with sexual references- it is actually much more than that.  Everything in it is a dream, but that only successfully helps one to get into the mind of the dreamer, and it is full of wider meaning.  Sleeping Beauty for example dreams of being defiled by her own knight's and castle keepers....a comment on the exploitation by Corporate Capitalism of us all, in the guise of it being in service to us, anyone? 


There is a rich seam of other, similar metaphors in this story which leaves one intellectually stimulated but not overly dulled. 


The second novella, Spanking the Maid is again, on the surface, a more straight-forward master and Servant tale.  The master sets tasks for the maid to do, which she tries her hardest to complete to perfection; but the slightest failing meets with punishment, and the more she is punished, the more she fails to meet the masters exacting standards.  The result is that she feels a growing freedom from her overbearing, almost impossible work obligations, and so actually starts enjoying the 'punishment.'


All of this interestingly has the opposite effect on the master, who becomes more and more involved in the technicalities of the punishment ritual to the point where you end up wondering in the end, just who is the master, and who is the servant.


In a number of ways this story reminds me of the excellent film `Secretary,' where the exact line between pleasure and pain and dominance and subservience, when analysed in more depth, actually breaks down into a web of mental and sensual complexity.  Where this tale differs from 'Secretary' though, is the almost suppressed denial of any overt sexual activity.  Even body parts, such as the maid's bottom, is given euphemisms such as her 'sit-me-down.' It's as if the protagonists are trying to put the act of sex into a box.  The process of that however, leads to ever more degrading acts and Coover conjures up some quite affecting imagery to illustrate that.


So, although a very competent and classical examination of sado-masochism and, expertly, rather successfully titillating as well, the novella still manages to be more than that.  Coover is investigating deep seated human characteristics of obligation, worship, obsession, denial and the limits of sexual pleasure we all, deep down, are fascinated with exploring.  To my mind, he pulls it of brilliantly without any pretension, and leaves food for thought long after the story is finished.


Coover is now being recognised as one of America's greatest writers, and not before time.  He has always struck me though as more of a Eurocentric writer than an American one, and I think these two novellas illustrate that aspect of his canon perhaps more than any other.  If you are new to Coover though, this neat volume is as good a place to start as any and well worth a read.