Divine Encounters
It was the quirkiest of weeks, it was ... no, it was just that. The only excitement during school this week happened yesterday when I discovered the book sale at Vanier--I managed to pick up Frye's Fables of Identity and The Modern Century: The Whidden Lectures 1967 for a sum of $5. That, and my professor in my Thursday morning class, Anthropology of Relgion--whose presence is meek as a secret mouse--threw a full-blown hissy fit because one-fifth of the class showed up, and most of the class was chattering. Then, ironically, being an ethnographer of rural Thailand Buddhism, when he was telling the class anger creates bad karma in Buddhism, well, he got the joke and laughed it off. My Thursday Shakespeare class was cancelled, too. Otherwise we're starting to prepare for our McLuhan / Frye debate (I, aligning myself with McLuhan), as well as my final two papers--one on Waiting For Godot and the second, hopefully, using Frye to examine the twentieth century development of cosmic evolution in either Lovecraft and/or Rudolf Steiner / Zecharia Sitchin.
Of course, I have been keeping up posting on my other blog for the Writer / Critic class--we're now discussing T.S. Eliot. I can't imagine a course better than this one. Everything we do in class related to our readings depends solely on our ability, not on what the professor or university wants us to get out of it--so I can get away with writing entries, like this week, suggesting how T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" plays as though it were a radio or gramophone tune off the pages, but with the voice or melody of Ecclesiastes.
UPDATE: Saw The Libertine last night. What a bold and decadent movie. Fun-filled, I have say. It was great especially watching Rochester's play for Charles II, replete with women performing a choral dance with dildos, his servant 'Moorcock' refusing to play the part of 'Little Clitoris' and a gigantic, oversized replica of a penis complete with a midget atop being rolled across the stage towards an equally giant ... well, you get the point. Yet it was still great, serious, literary drama. Opens with Rochester addressing the audience telling them how much they won't like (read: pity) him, and once again at the end he provokes the audience to think whether they still like him because he was converted on his deathbed.
Of course, I have been keeping up posting on my other blog for the Writer / Critic class--we're now discussing T.S. Eliot. I can't imagine a course better than this one. Everything we do in class related to our readings depends solely on our ability, not on what the professor or university wants us to get out of it--so I can get away with writing entries, like this week, suggesting how T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" plays as though it were a radio or gramophone tune off the pages, but with the voice or melody of Ecclesiastes.
UPDATE: Saw The Libertine last night. What a bold and decadent movie. Fun-filled, I have say. It was great especially watching Rochester's play for Charles II, replete with women performing a choral dance with dildos, his servant 'Moorcock' refusing to play the part of 'Little Clitoris' and a gigantic, oversized replica of a penis complete with a midget atop being rolled across the stage towards an equally giant ... well, you get the point. Yet it was still great, serious, literary drama. Opens with Rochester addressing the audience telling them how much they won't like (read: pity) him, and once again at the end he provokes the audience to think whether they still like him because he was converted on his deathbed.
posted by Davyth | 6:28 PM
2 Comments:
Went to the same booksale: found a copy of Andrew Marvell's works, Boswell's Journal of the Hebrides, and most astonishingly of all, a 1924 edition of the works of William Cowper. Total: 4 bucks!!! I've been to that booksale 3 times and always go back, even though I'm not at York anymore.
I made the mistake of passing by the book sale with a measely seven dollars in my pocket. Which, by the way, was my 'lunch money'--just enough money left over for a plate of food and drink at the pub. As fate would have it, class was cancelled that day, so I went home early anyways, not having to starve.
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