Theory and Non – Theory (cont.)
Since last week’s blog and my (defensively) sarcastic comments about the French and French/Algerian masters of critical theory, I have discovered Paul Strathern and his potted guides, “Derrida in an hour” etc. Fantastic. I’ve done Derrida, Foucault, Wittgenstein and have Heidegger lined up; what Strathern needs to do is to get his finger out and do Barthes, Baudrillard, Lyotard, Deleuze and one or two others, then I’ll be OK for my book group next time. Trouble with the group is that if you want to hold your end up, you have to read not only the scheduled book, but every other book in the world that has any bearing on the subject. I can’t hope to do that but maybe can fake it with Strathern’s help.
Comics Unmasked, British Library
(Not the Jonah on show, but gives you an idea)
The best work on display in my view is a Beano spread from the early 60s, I guess, of Ken Reid’s fantastic ” Jonah”. This is so busy and full of energy that it practically moves on the page as you peer at it. Also very striking was “Gwendoline”, and the Rupert Bear and the Gypsy Grandma from the International Times, or maybe Oz – delicacy prevents me from description. For some reason, R Crumb was omitted altogether??? and there was only one Posy Simmonds, a page of “Tamara Drewe”. Despite the graphic sex, the most shocking cartoon for me (although I have the book in which it was published) was Reg Smythe’s Andy Capp, reproduced below:
This was presumably first published in the Daily Mirror, before inclusion in the collection I own. Private Eye, I remember, used to run a strip by Bill Tidy, The Cloggies, in which there was a character called “The Blagdon Amateur Rapist.” Can’t remember when, but I guess well into the 70s, maybe later.
There are many other treasures and I strongly recommend the exhibition. I got a great compendium of early 50s US horror comics too; “The Horror, the Horror!” by Jim Trombetta, £20 and well worth it.
DH Lawrence, The White Peacock
Lawrence’s first novel, in which the action is beset throughout by great wodges of nature description; we know at all times what the lapwings, clouds, forget-me-nots, brooks and grasses are doing. This seems a common syndrome with first novels; Almayer’s Folly by Conrad and Orwell’s Burmese Days both have the same characteristic, not necessarily a fault, in my view; I think Orwell brings it off well.
The Lawrence has a more amusing fault; the narrator is one of the characters, yet he is “all-knowing”. He tells us what his sister Lettie says and does explains that with her suitor George when they are off alone in the woods, for instance. I wonder how common this error is in literature; I can’t offhand think of any other examples, yet it struck me immediately in “Peacock”.
Clark at Tate Britain
Here are the Seurats in the Clark exhibition:
I think the first one is usually in the National Gallery – but the second is new to me.
Asger Jorn – Restless Rebel
New book on Jorn, essays on various periods. It’s great of course – below, Jorn in his studio.
And here’s my latest effort, which turned into a landscape when I put it on its side. I hate it and will vandalise it with green and blue paint as soon as I publish this.
Blackpaint
29.05.14
Blackpaint's Blog 