The Last Part of Camera Lucida

Section 41: Barthes is considering the Winter Garden photograph after the passage of time, after "remaining with it," as he suggests. He refers to pioneers of scientific images: "What Marey and Muybridge have done as operators I myself want to do as spectator: I decompose, I enlarge, and, so to speak, I retard, in order to have time to know at last." (99) He wishes to "enter the paper's depth." (100) He gets at notions of desire here: "I can have the fond hope of discovering truth," though he admits he will not find it. (99)

Section 42: He suggests that, sometimes, he perceives something if the truth in a photograph, what he calls "a likeness." But the likeness is imprecise, imaginary: "they conform to what I expect from them." (101-102) For Barthes, the actual truth (that is not imaginary) exists in photos which are not "a likeness" (such as the Winter Garden photograph).

Section 43: Photos also display, not the truth of the individual, but the truth of lineage. This is both reassuring (Barthes suggests that the thought of origin soothes us) and disappointing: "it bares the mysterious difference of beings issuing from one and the same family." (105)

Section 44: He concludes, "I cannot penetrate, cannot reach into the Photograph." (106) The photograph is unlike the tect ("our vision of it is certain"). The photograph arrests interpretation: "this-has-been." (106-107) I am surprised by this observation. e, in semiotics (visual or textual), do not believe that any sign arrests interpretation (photograph or not).

I don't wish to speak for all semioticians here, but this is certainly what I believe.

Section 45: Barthes' frustration is evident here: he still seeks (more properly, desires something more in the photograph. He wishes to discover the person in the photograph completely. It seems here that Barthes is grasping at straws, so to speak. He wants to find the truth in a photograph, and so he finds, as the locus of his desires, the air (or the expression). But then he immediately writes, "The air of a face is unanalyzable." (107) But it evokes for the observer, "little individual soul, good in one person, bad in another." (109) The air is what allows Barthes to identify his mother in the Winter Garden photograph.

All the photographs of my mother which I was looking through were a little like so many masks; at the last, suddenly the mask vanished: there remained a soul, ageless but not timeless, since this air was the person I used to see, consubstantial with her face, each day of her long life. (110)

This is what makes a true photograph: the capturing of the air (one's soul, one's shadow). Barthes suggests it is due to either the photographer's talent or luck, but if it is not present, the photo simply identifies, but it is not a "true" image.

Section 46: He goes to great lengths in this section to come to his point, though he beautifully expresses it:

by leading me to believe ... that I have found what Calvino calls "the try total photograph," it accomplishes the unheard-of identification of reality ("that-has-been") with truth ("there-she-is!"); it becomes at once evidential and exclamative; it bears the effigy to that crazy point where affect (love, compassion, grief, enthusiasm, desire) is the guarantee of Being. (113)

He cites his student, Julia Kristeva, at the end of this section (an honour, I'm sure).

Section 47: What a great start to a section: he concludes his findings (photography shows that "that has been") and confronts his critics. The madness of photography is that it is about the absence of the object and also that the object existed where we see it in the photograph. In this way, photography is a hallucination. (115)

For Barthes (and all of us?), there is a link between Photography, madness, and love, or, more properly, Pity. We love those photos that allow us to enter them, to embrace the subject, to "[go] mad for Pity's sake." (116-117)

Section 48: The last section. Society attempts to control the madness of the photograph (as outlined in the last section). First, it makes photography into art ("no art is made," says Barthes). (117) Photography can be art, but it must be powerless photography. Second, society generalizes and make photography banal. For Barthes, photography is everywhere (he calls this a tyranny).

And, in a way, he calls for the destruction of the medium: "let us abolish the images, let us save immediate Desire (desire without mediation)." (119) But in the end, he suggests the choice is in the hands of the observer, to banalize photography (to make the medium "tame"), or to make it mad, "to confront in it the wakening of intractable reality." (119)

This is a beautiful book, and it has made me want to track down photos of madness, that make me want to get inside of them, that frustrate me because of my inability to do so. I want to find photos of those I love, that show the truth of these people. But, in a way, I also want to find those photographs that hurt me because they simply identify but do not convey the "air" of the subject. Those kinds of photographs don't only point to the absence of the subject, but also the absence of the subject's soul, the truth of them. In that absence, I can grieve, I think. Barthes seems to wave these sorts of photographs, perhaps as art.

I think I can embrace them because of what they lack, and what that lack then evokes from me.

I also want to capitalize "Photography," and write with more semicolons. I won't blame Roland Barthes for that.

Section 33-40 of Barthes' Camera Lucida

These notes are hampered (enhanced?) by my daughter's constant commentary beside me as I was preparing them. She, though, was talking about Nutrios, tea, and Disney's version of Pocahontas, and whether Grandmother Willow was a "man tree or girl tree." On to the notes from these sections of the book.

Section 33: An important thought right at the start: “looking at photograph, I inevitably include in my scrutiny the thought of that instant, however brief, in which a real thing happened to be motionless in front of the eye.” (78) In cinema, that "pose" is swept away. Where Barthes speaks earlier of the pose as disguising the authentic or true, here he suggests the pose contains the authentic or true.

Interestingly, he seems to have found differences between cinema and photography suddenly. Film shows the actor in two "poses": the real one (Barthes calls this "this-has-been") and the role that is being played.

Finally, he mentions that photography is proof of the truth. (79)

Section 34: Who invented photography? Not painters, but chemists. A beautiful passage follows: "The photograph is literally an emanation of the referent. From a real body, which was there, proceed radiations which ultimately touch me, who am here." (80)

Photographs are alive (the photographic process itself is alchemic(al?), and vital). This is curious, as Barthes also suggests that photographs show the dead (and die themselves). He decides here that he detests colour photographs, as it is (for Barthes) simply cosmetic a "superadded light." (81)

Section 35: Photography attests to what has existed. But then Barthes makes an astonishing observation: photography resurrects. (82) But then he suggests that photography affects him as he observes it: "why is it that I am alive here and now?" (84)

Section 36: "What has been": maybe death is not the primary signified of the photograph after all. Photography "is authentication itself." (87) These are interesting comments to consider when thinking about digital photography (in fact, pages 87-88 seem key in a discussion of how digital photography is fundamentally different from traditional photography, how it puts traditional photography into crisis). He finished the section with this: "the power of authentication exceeds the power of representation." (89)

Section 37: He returns yet again to the Winter Garden photograph - he calls it "my Photograph." (90) I must quote Barthes at length here:

The Photograph is violent: not because it shows violent things, but because on each occasion it fills the sight by force, and because in it nothing can be refused or transformed (that we can sometimes call it mild does not contradict its violence: many say that sugar is mild, but to me sugar is violent, and I call it so). (91)

Section 38: Suddenly Photography equals death again; the photograph itself is mortal, susceptible to the effects of humidity and so forth. In the past, memory was eternal, but not so for the photograph. Camera Lucida, the book, is referred to here as a trace of teh "astonishment of 'that-has-been.'" (94) Is he talking about the Winter Garden photograph here? Note: sad words at the end of this section, about the passage of time and the tenuousness of "proofs" of love, etc.

Section 39: He identifies a second "punctum" that exists in (all?) photographs: Time (and its passage, I assume). Of his mother's photograph: "she is going to die." (96)

Section 40: Here, Barthes suggests that the act of observing photographs is one done alone (Cinema is embarrassing alone). What does Barthes mean when he suggests that the amateur is the one who stands for the professional in photography, who stands closer to the defining character of photography (he suggests that the amateur is not the "immature state of the artist in photography")? (98-99)

This is the penultimate section of the book. The end of this particular volume is in sight, and so, thoughts about its whole are welcome.

The latest - Sections 25-32

What follows is more of my (hopefully helpful) musings on Barthes' Camera Lucida. Read on.

Section 25: Barthes begins his personal search, at this point, for a "true" photograph of his mother. When he suggests that he was wanting to write what he calls a "little compilation," it is quite possible that this is to what the second half of the book amounts.

Section 26: History: "the time when my mother was alive before me." (65) Barthes shows such sensitivity here; he refers to his mother's scent and her personal things. By the way, the photo to which he refers, of his mother and himself on a beach (see section 25, and see below) is published in Roland Barthes par Roland Barthes.

Section 27: Barthes blames photography for forcing him to engage with "painful labour," that is, "straining toward the essence of her identity." (66)

Photographs are like dreams for Barthes: they are not the object, they are about the object. This is different from what he says earlier in the book in terms of a photograph "meaning" its referent, but he is now discussing his mother, not some universal characteristic of the medium (he returns, though, to the idea of the referent in section 32).

Section 28: The heart of the book is here in this section: the Winter Garden photograph. Just as a photograph never shows the true person due to the pose, so here is the true person because of her innocence (he says it means, "I do no harm"). (69) So, for Barthes, this is a "just image." (70)

Section 29: Barthes suggests here that the photograph of his mother as a little girl makes him recall her last days, as a "little girl," needing his assistance always.

From that tender idea, Barthes seems to teeter on the edge of despair: "I could do no more than await my total, undialectical death." (72)

Section 30: So, he here suggests that desire in photography is not rooted in pleasure but rather in love and death. I do wish that he would have reprinted the photograph here (as do my students), but he does not; after all, it's not for us.

Section 31: Barthes expresses a bit of his own background here, raised as protestant. But as for the rest (psychoanalysis discussion aside), he simply states that "everything has remained motionless." (75)

Section 32: Photography: "I can never deny that the thing has been there." Photography, for Barthes, is not art or communication, but Reference: "it has been here, and yet immediately separated; it has been absolutely, irrefutably present, and yet already deferred." (77)

That brings me to the end of this week's section. I have written less here, but this is truly the emotional heart of the work, and the importance of the beginning of the second part of the book remains.

More on Barthes - Sections 17-24

Here is more on Barthes and Camera Lucida, to the end of the first part. The questions are fewer here (and the dialogue more like monologue), but we will continue on.

Section 17: Here, Barthes discusses the unary photograph, which comes to him in the form of journalistic photographs and pornographic photographs. These are photographs which interest Barthes but do nothing else for him. Such photographs "[transform] 'reality' without doubling it ... no duality, no indirection, no disturbance." (41)

News photographs are very often unary, in that they can shock, but not in any real way (not like a punctum). Furthermore, for Barthes, pornographic photographs present a single idea (interestingly, he states that Mapplethorpe's photos become interesting because of fabrics).

Section 18: Here Barthes returns to the Nicaraguan photo from earlier, and begins to explore how different figures view the composition of the scene. The Operator views reality, and the socio-political factors which contribute to the presence of the nuns. From the perspective of the Spectator, the detail is random (part of me wonders, though, if an analytical spectator might recognize the socio-political reality of the photograph). (42)

Barthes makes an important point: one shouldn't need to study a photograph to discover the punctum: "I should receive it right here in my eyes." (43)

Section 19: The punctum is "lightning-like," but, for Barthes, works to "expand" the photograph. It works in terms of metonymy, where the punctum as "part" stands in for the "whole." It also works to fill the whole picture (while remaining a detail). (45)

Section 20: Intentionality works against the punctum. Rather, the photograph whould indicate the Operator "could not not photograph the partial object at the same time as the total object." (47)

Section 21: Photography (with punctum) is likened to Haiku: they are both "undevelopable." He makes the point that the "essence" ("of a wound") can only be repeated under insistent gaze. Everything is given. This is seemingly contradictory to what he mentions in section 19, that the punctum expands the photograph. I suppose there may be subtlety between expansion and development. (49)

Section 22: Important: "The studium is ultimately always coded, the punctum is not." (51) If one is able to apply code (convention, meaning) to the "punctum," it is not punctum: "What I can name cannot really prick me." (51) The punctum often reveals itself in remembering the photograph.

"In order to see a photographe well, it is best to look away or close your eyes." (53) Agree?

Section 23: The punctum is what the Spectator adds to the photograph and "what is nonetheless already there." (55) He says something interesting here: that one doesn't have time to add to the image in movies. The figures in photographs "do not emerge, no not leave" like the images in film that are always moving, emerging, leaving. (57)

An aside: Barthes' line, "they are anesthetized and fastened down, like butterflies," predates The Smiths' lyric, "pin and mount me like a butterfly" (without the sexual connotations of the latter).

He returns here to section 17 and the pornographic photograph. He suggests that the erotic photograph "launches desire": he calls this a "subtle beyond," a "blind field." (57-58) His work on desire is always important and certainly, at the heart of all of his exploration of photography is the notion of desire.

Section 24: In the last section of Part 1, Barthes admits failure: he has discovered something about how desire works in photographs, but nothing of the nature of photography. He admits that this has been a deeply personal project so far (and far from universal); this fact does not change as the book progresses.

Palinode: "a poem in which the poet retracts a view or sentiment expressed in a former poem." (from the built-in OS X Mountain Lion dictionary)

Thus ends the first part of the book. Barthes' thoughts get increasingly personal as the book continues. Please continue the fine comments and encourage others (anyone else) to contribute. Dialogue is ideal, though certainly absent in the last few weeks (my fault, not the fault of P.W.) - in any case, carry on.

A Decision

If I finish reading all of Eco's fiction, then I can buy myself a copy of David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest.

But I need to finish the A Series of Unfortunate Events books first, not to mention Zafon's 3 books too. Did I mention I'm also re-reading Morrison's The Invisibles?

I also need to write a preface for a proposed work on Bowie, and now I have the big idea to expand and publish something about Feist.

And I want to buy one of those Starbucks Verismo machines, and I don't even really drink coffee (does a venti 6-pump vanilla latte breve count?).

And I want to buy Cabin in the Woods and The Avengers on DVD. And those books on Disney animation.

But first, if I finish reading all of Eco's fiction, then I can buy myself a copy of David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest.

Sections 9-16 in Barthes' Camera Lucida

There are less questions asked below, but certainly an engagement with the text is required. In any case, I will dive in with section 9. Get a nice cup of tea, a fountain pen, and read along (or consult, more properly, after reading, and compare notes).

Section 9: The adventure of the Nicaraguan photo is from the "co-presence of two discontinuous elements, heterogeneous in that they did not belong to the same world ...: the soldiers and the nuns." (23) But the characteristic doesn't seem to translate to other photos by the same photographer (Koen Wessing).

I should mention here, completely off-topic: I'm listening to Bats for Lashes' album Twin Suns while typing this. That's all.

Section 10: Two elements whose co-present establish adventure:
1) the field of general interest for the observer--"studium"--"a kind of general, enthusiastic commitments, ... but without special acuity." (26)
2) "this element which rises from the scene, shoots out of it like an arrow, and pierces me."--"punctum" (26) He calls this a "sting, speck, cut, little hole. ... that accident which pricks me." (27)

These are central ideas from Camera Lucida; we will hear much more about these things throughout the book.

Section 11: He makes a judgment about many photos here, how they please (or displease) him without "pricking" him. (27) "The studium is of the order of liking, not of loving." (27) It is about understanding the intentions of the author, he claims. This is a particularly strange claim for Barthes to make, considering his views on authorial intention elsewhere.

Why does Barthes call the Photograph "dangerous"? (28)

Here he also lists the functions of photography: "to inform, to represent, to surprise, to cause to signify, to provoke desire." (28) He goes on to discuss these five functions in this order in the next five sections of the text.

Section 12: Here, Barthes shows how a photograph can inform, "to accede to an infra-knowledge." (30)

Section 13: Right at the start of this section, Barthes enters into the controversy as to who created photography and, of course, sides with the French. He also makes a definite link between photography and its parent, painting (because of framing and perspective). But then, he makes the link with theatre, because of Death ("however 'lifelike' we strive to make it ..."). (31)

Photography is a kind of primitive theatre, ... a figuration of the motionless and made-up face beneath which we see the dead. (32)

Section 14: Here, Barthes admits his failings in terms of being the "operator" of cameras. And it seems that he is being a little bit sarcastic (or mean) toward the photographer, suggesting the he or she is only after surprise (he calls this "the essential gesture of the Operator"). (32)

1) The first surprise, for Barthes, in the "rare referent."
2) The second is the ability to apprehend the gesture, to stop time.
3) The third is what he calls "prowess," the ability to see, for instance, the explosion of a drop of milk.
4) The fourth surprise is the "contortion of technique," playing with the technology of photography. (33)
5) And, finally, the fifth type is the "lucky find" of a whimsical, but natural, scene.

Barthes does not speak highly of these "surprising" photographs (at least, that is the sense I have).

Section 15: This is a difficult section on meaning in photographs, and portraiture in particular (remember that this section explores the function, "to cause to signify," above). What he does suggest is that "the semiology of Photography is ... limited to the admirable performances of several portraitists." (38) I what he calls "good photographs," the "object speaks" (at least). (38)

Section 16: Have you ever wanted to live in a photograph? Which one, and why?

For Barthes, this is a requirement: "landscape ... must be habitable, not [only] visitable." (38) He speaks here of a powerful notion of "home" (a notion that, for Barthes, evokes the Mother--this foreshadows his thought further in the book regarding his actual mother, and the obvious safety he felt with her, "a utopian time"). (40)

All, feel free to comment, post, enter into dialogue (especially P.W.).

The first part of a long term exploration of Roland Barthes' Camera Lucida

This post is the first in a weekly series of "dialogue" surrounding Roland Barthes' exploration of photography as a cultural process in his book Camera Lucida (the edition from Hill and Wang from 2010, with a Foreword by Geoff Dyer). I am guiding a student through a directed study of this book (and Barthes' comments regarding photography in general), and so these entries are supposed to represent both kinds of guides, as well as sort of discussion points. Hopefully, these are both helpful and thought provoking. This is an experiment, and all are invited to participate. Comments are welcome.

Right at the outset of the book, the author includes a Polaroid photograph by Daniel Boudinet from 1979. What do you think it was about the image of pillows and drawn curtains that would have enticed Barthes?

Dyer's introduction is full of wonderful points: Barthes' style is "compression and flow." (x) Perhaps Dyer's following statement is ripe for comment: "photography represents the advent of the self as other" (he attributes the sentiment to Barthes here). (xiv)

Consider Dyer's comments about digital photography:
- photograph as a record "of what has been";
- "photography as a technology in the process of becoming past, part of what has been." (xvii)

Section 1: Barthes cannot separate photography from cinema, but decides to figure out what it is apart from the other image-based media (or medium, I suppose, of film). He goes so far as to suggest that it (photography) doesn't exist.

Section 2: The various categorizations of photography, characterizations which could easily be applied to painting. He suggests that the photograph only means what it points to: "it points a finger." it is only a diectic language (that is, meaning is dependent on the context in which it is used). A photograph is always the photograph [of something]. (5) What is Barthes saying about photography as visual semiotics on p. 5? Why do you think Barthes capitalizes Pholography?

Section 3: He decides to look at only a few photographs (ones that he suggests "existed" for him, in order to "formulate the fundamental feature, the universal." (9)

Section 4: Important There are 3 impulses in photography:
1) to do (the Operator - this isn't Barthes)
2) to undergo (the observed subject)
3) to look (the subject observing)
For Barthes, photography is "the return of the dead." (9) He covers photography-according-to-the-photographer (#1 above) as simply a chemical and physical activity, but one outside of his experience. He leaves it alone. (10)

Section 5: Posing for the camera is a problem for Barthes. Photography, unlike painting or drawing, is anything but subtle - at least the artist can imbue the image with some character, whereas photography cannot. (11) "'Myself' never coincides with my [photographic] image." (12) What does Barthes say about painting in history here? What does Barthes mean by the following beautiful phrase: "cameras ... were clocks for seeing."? (15)

Section 6: Barthes constitutes #3 above - the spectator - and admits (simply) that he does not appreciate all photographs. (18)

Section 7: So, then, why the attraction to certain photographs? He talks about "advenience" or "adventure" of a photograph: "This picture advenes, that one doesn't." (19) The photograph that interests Barthes "animates" him. (20)

Section 8: He refers back to earlier sections here, suggesting that he could speak of photography in terms of "material essences" (science) and "regional essences" (perhaps sociology), but instead considers "sentimental" reasons.

I wanted to explore it not as a question (a theme) bust as a wound: I see, I feel, hence I notice, I observe, and I think. (21)

Hopefully the questions above will elicit some sort of discussion. There are (probably) no "right" answers, and I certainly don't know them all, but this is certainly a "rich text." It is a personal text, made quite evident by his observation of photography, or his desires for the photographic referent, as a "wound." His personal story comes out as he continues; Camera Lucida is a deeply personal book.

Some posts from my (now defunct) tumblr blog

I've decided to use my tumblr as something else, so I thought I would move some of the posts from there, to here, so as to not lose the gems of wonderfulness that are those posts. So, here they are, from earlier this year:

My first post on tumblr.

A University board member asked me whether I was “in media.” I mentioned that I was the professor of Communications & Media, so I suppose I was “in media” (of course, I think that’s all she meant). In any case, we had a great conversation about what we do in my University courses and what might be done in a community college. She appreciated the “analysis” portion of my courses, that one needs to understand what the “texts” of film mean. She didn’t use those exact words, but this is what she meant.

It made me think about discussions I have had regarding Zack Snyder’s film, Sucker Punch. I liked the movie; I thought it looked really good (there is a lot to be unpacked in that last statement of 6 words). Many would think that the film is a wonderful example of third-wave feminism, the notion that female erotic power can be used in favour of the female using it (awkward sentence, I know). But there is something wrong with Snyder’s film; I felt uneasy watching it, not only because I thought it looked good.

It might be an example of “third-wave feminism,” but it really does depend on the male gaze. It’s third-wave feminism with a whole bunch of voyeurism; now, maybe that’s an intrinsic part of third-wave, but I’m not so sure that the film is right.

These are the sorts of discussions I like to have with my students because, ultimately, this is more important and effective than saying, “Don’t watch it.”

Let these be initial thoughts. I may post more, or not. I’m just trying out tumblr, really.

I’m having trouble falling asleep, so I’ll write about an ill-defined “Theology of Desire.”

It is interesting how there are some atheists that I really admire; I don’t agree with them, but I really think they’re great. Consider the following: Salman Rushdie, Stephen Fry, Umberto Eco, Joss Whedon. And why is it that some of these atheists seem to know more about Christianity than I do, and seem to be able to explore such ideas with much more tact and intelligence than I can? Again, consider Whedon or Eco.

I’m currently (-ish) writing a paper on Whedon, suggesting that, in his work, one might find a kind of theology of desire (or, at least, his work can be considered a sort of lens through which a Christian theology of desire might be revealed). What do I mean by a “Christian theology of desire,” you ask?

That’s a good question, and I don’t really have an answer. But I can explore a bit of what I’m trying to get at (that is, my problem). I suppose that part of the allure that I feel when I watch some of Whedon’s televisual output (and I’m not really referring to Buffy here) seems to come from a place of desiring: I enjoy the company, if you will, that I see on the screen. I become part of a sort of community (albeit a fictional one that exists on a television screen). Without being overly dramatic, I desire those people (characters) on the show.

As the now legendary question went, “Are you speaking of a Nietzchean desire, or a Lacanian desire?” My answer remains, a Lacanian one. That is, perhaps it is that dastardly notion of wanting the one I can’t have (and the fact that it’s driving me mad) that so tugs at me.

And I think part of the allure has to do with aesthetics.

What a great cliff-hanger. Don’t you want to read more?

"Post-Meaning"

From Roland Barthes' Mourning Diary:

I brood over Tolstoy's story Father Sergius (recently saw the bad film). In the final episode he finds peace (Meaning, or Exemption from Meaning) when he encounters a little girls as she was in his childhood now become a grandmother, Mavra, who simply concerns herself with the family she loves, without raising any problem of appearance, of sanctity, of the Church, etc. I tell myself: that's maman. She never employs a meta-language, a pose, a deliberate image. That's what 'Sanctity" is.

These are some of Roland Barthes' thoughts about the neutral here, I think. And he defines what being "post-meaning" is all about as well: not employing a meta-language, a pose, a deliberate image. He speaks of this in Camera Lucida as well, when he explores the notion of the "true" photograph (impossible except in very young photographic subjects; otherwise, we know better and we pose).

Source: Roland Barthes, Mourning Diary, Richard Howard, trans. (London: Notting Hill Editions, 2011), 209. [This is a beautifully bound book, and wonderfully readable, especially because of its sewn binding.]

Startin' Monday

I'm thinking of beginning to read some Karl Barth (not to mention more Roland Barthes). I met with a friend recently who suggested that he and some friends of his were going to read Church Dogmatics together (but didn't end up doing much of that). I have a colleague that bought a highly discounted set of Church Dogmatics, and it has been sitting on his shelf for over a year; that said, I am tempted to buy a highly discounted set for myself so that I can have it sit on my shelf for a long while.

In any case, I found a copy of excerpts from the set, and I will begin reading that, and see what happens. If I happen to actually read a substantial portion of it (say, a chapter or something like that), then I will seriously consider the cheap 14 volume set. That said, I should also read some Roland Barthes (same pronunciation of the last name, different nationality, sexuality, religious belief, etc.). I am reviewing The Preparation of the Novel for a journal (due sometime in 2013); it will certainly be difficult. The book is a collection of his lectures, and probably not something meant to be published. Interestingly, his actual spoken lectures are somewhere online. I might make it a point to listen to some of them. My french comprehension is not really the best (especially France french, as opposed to Quebec french), so I'm not sure how useful it would be.

I am also preparing for the IASPM conference at Acadia University in June. I am presenting on Feist (again), and her Canadian-ness (again). I anticipate excitement on all sides.

I must also work on a proposal to publish a book on David Bowie's 1995 album, entitled 1. Outside. It is one of his most critically acclaimed works, but I don't think much of anything has been written about it. The publisher would like a proposed table of contents and some sample chapters. I have my work set out for me for the next short while.

By the way, the title of this post comes from the song, "Startin' Monday," by Terry Scott Taylor, from his album Avocado Faultline. I guess it's also a saying that people say, for when they're going to start doing things, like dieting and exercising and so forth. I'm going to do all of that too, by the way.

A quote

"Give me a drink," asks Jesus. The demand would appear to be double. Seated wearily at a well whose water is beyond reach, Jesus desires a drink. But he has another desire that well water cannot satisfy, as [John] 4:10 suggests "If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, 'Give me a drink,' you would shave asked him, and he would shave given you living water." What Jesus longs for from this woman, even more than refreshing spring water, is that she long for the living water that he longs to give her. Jesus thirsts to arouse her thirst. His desire is to arouse her desire, to be himself desired. His desire is to be the desire of this woman, to have her recognize in him that which she lacks in herself. His desire is to fill up her lack. Only thus can his own deeper thirst be assured, his own lack be filled.

- Stephen D. Moore, "Are There Impurities in the Living Water That the Johannine Jesus Dispenses? Deconstruction, Feminism, and the Samaritan Woman." The Interpretation of John John Ashton, ed. (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1997), 83.

Quoting from the recent report, "Regarding an ideological or faith test as condition of employment at Providence University College" by William Bruneau and Robert Chernomas:

If academic freedom means academic staff must be free from ideological, doctrinal, or theological tests, then one may argue Providence University College is a “university” in name only. The fact that Providence has been chartered by the Legislature of the Province of Manitoba gives Providence the power to say it is a “university.” But there must be substantial doubt that free teaching, instruction, research, and public comment occur at Providence.

As a professor in the employ of Providence University College, this last sentence by Bruneau and Chernomas is absolutely false. I also find it insulting, and makes me particularly uncomfortable.

You can read the whole report here.

I just posted the following to nicholasgreco.tumblr.com

A University board member asked me whether I was “in media.” I mentioned that I was the professor of Communications & Media, so I suppose I was “in media” (of course, I think that’s all she meant). In any case, we had a great conversation about what we do in my University courses and what might be done in a community college. She appreciated the “analysis” portion of my courses, that one needs to understand what the “texts” of film mean. She didn’t use those exact words, but this is what she meant.

It made me think about discussions I have had regarding Zack Snyder’s film, Sucker Punch. I liked the movie; I thought it looked really good (there is a lot to be unpacked in that last statement of 6 words). Many would think that the film is a wonderful example of third-wave feminism, the notion that female erotic power can be used in favour of the female using it (awkward sentence, I know). But there is something wrong with Snyder’s film; I felt uneasy watching it, not only because I thought it looked good.

It might be an example of “third-wave feminism,” but it really does depend on the male gaze. It’s third-wave feminism with a whole bunch of voyeurism; now, maybe that’s an intrinsic part of third-wave, but I’m not so sure that the film is right.

These are the sorts of discussions I like to have with my students because, ultimately, this is more important and effective than saying, "Don't watch it."

My Providence

New Post for a New Year

It is no secret that our family spent a week before Christmas at Walt Disney World in Florida. It seems that this has become a bit of a tradition for us, as we have visited that spot 7 times in the last 10.5 years (and are already in the planning stages to go in May of 2013). When we arrived this time, I had the big idea to write a paper on the experience, to try to decipher why I find it so appealing to return to the same theme park year after year (and, potentially, every second year for the rest of my life).

The point of such a study is the relationship between power and desire at Walt Disney World. My idea is that power (Disney power) is what elicits desire (at least in the opinion of this researcher). Foucault might ask where biopower fits in to this. Is there anything in terms of what society needs from its people? Does Disney contribute to biopower, the requirements of modern society? I also thought about Paul Virilio, r regarding speed and spectacle, two elements of the Walt Disney World experience that often results in overstimulation (so much so that the girls needed to stay at the hotel for a morning to "decompress"). I'd also love to respond to Jon Pahl's various criticisms of the "public theology" of Walt Disney World. I think I agree with some of his criticisms. I'm just not sure that they are so problematic (maybe Disney can be "redeemed").

Consider the Disney monorail for a moment: it is a kind of site of conflation of globalization and postmodernity (or maybe modernity, more accurately). I'm thinking about Harold Innis' notions of space/time bias as well as concepts such as space/time compression in globalization. Typing this out, I'm not sure if this works theoretically (or what my original thoughts were).

So, here are some keywords at the end for consideration: biopower, speed, "secular" public theology, space/time compression in a Baudrillardian space. I'm not sure this will go anywhere, but it's a blog entry for a new year, in any case.

Lady Gaga

I was asked by one of my students to post my recent thoughts on the song "Bloody Mary" by Lady Gaga, so I decided I would post it here. This fragment is a part of a much larger presentation on Gaga's "queer space." It isn't much, but it will probably be a paper one day.

Lady Gaga addresses the theme of death, I think, with a track on her newest album called “Bloody Mary,” a track which has recently been proposed (by her fans) as a “Halloween single.” In that song, Gaga sings, “I’ll dance dance dance / With my hands hands hands / Above my head head head / Like Jesus said.” This line always evokes strong imagery for me. When one considers lyrics, I think a simple question to ask, before “What does it mean?”, is “Why would she choose to write these lyrics?”, or “Why would she choose to sing these lyrics?” I wonder, why would she use such language? What did Jesus say? He certainly never talked about dancing with hands above his head, at least not in my recollection. He did tell his disciples, though, that they would have to carry their cross. Was Christ’s experience on the cross a kind of dance, with his own hands above his head?

The song is filled with agonizing screams, choir-like voices incanting the name “Gaga,” and the singer stating, “I won’t cry for you / I won’t crucify the things you do.” I read this song as a kind of defiant stance by the singer, suggesting that, though she be crucified (perhaps “carrying her cross,” as Christ said, a kind of “dance,” I suppose, one that demands that her hands be over her head as their nailed into the cross), she will not crucify others. Though she be judged, she will not judge. Here I must quote from Peter Kline: Gaga is “a figure we’d like to make capital off of (whether religious or cultural), but who instead confronts us with our own violence, and in doing so calls us to freedom.”

Later in the song, Gaga sings, “We are not just art for Michelangelo / To carve he can’t rewrite the agro / Of my furied heart I’ll wait / On mountain tops in Paris cold / Je ne veux pas mourire tout seule.” Here, perhaps she is pointing to her humanity (she is flesh, not art, no matter what others--or she--might say), what others might call the “human condition,” one of frustration (of “agro,” as shecalls it). Still, she will wait, as she does not want to die alone. Who is she waiting for?

Academic Freedom

I'm struggling right now with the notion of academic freedom in higher education in Canada. I'm thinking about this notion in the context of religious higher education. At the institution where I teach, all faculty are required to function within a certain framework of belief. If any work of the faculty fall outside of this framework of belief, then there might be a problem. Technically, this might seem to indicate a lack of academic freedom, though it is also a move against the agreed-upon framework of belief.

At my institution, I am restricted by a framework of religious belief. At all institutions, all academic work is restricted by an agreed upon framework of belief. There are certain subjects and viewpoints that are not acceptable even at public universities, and that might jeopardize employment.

I suppose the crux of the discussion is, what does academic freedom actually mean? What does it mean to have academic freedom within the bounds of explicitly-stated religious belief? What does it mean to have academic freedom within the bounds of implicitly-stated agreed-upon discourse?

I am struggling with these questions, in the light of CAUT's continued blacklisting of religious-based academic institutions.

What to say, what to say...

I'm preparing for class this afternoon, and wondering why I've forgotten my Dr. Martens boots at home.

I'm discussing the notion of appropriation with my class today, and using Dr. Martens boots as an example. The first experience I have with these kinds of boots were my friends wearing them in high school (the early 1990s). The people that I hung around with that wore them were of a certain ethnic group that are stereotypically well-off. In this case, I think they were, but I can't be certain. But they did wear the boots.

The other groups who wore the boots then were the local "skinheads." I was never sure if they were real skinheads or not (I remember one fellow in my class was rather quiet and seemingly kind, so this seemed to not quite mesh with the picture we might have of roving violent gangs). I do remember some of these folk at my high school wearing clothing that denounced racism, so maybe these were the nice kinds.

My sister used to mention that one of her professors in Biology wore Docs. I thought that was interesting (and I think my sister wore Docs before I did). Once I went to college (to take theology) after a few years at university, I also bought my first pair of Docs, for utilitarian reasons. We needed shoes to wear to chapel; there was a dress code in place. I thought it would be easiest to get a pair of shoes I could wear all the time, and the Docs seemed to fit the bill. So that's what I bought. I wore those for years, then amassing all sorts of pairs: a couple of 3-eyelet pairs of shoes, both black and oxblood; two pairs of boots, "greasers" (which I still have) and a pair of shiny black ones (the first pair of boots, probably upon going to grad school).

At some point, I wanted to get another pair of boots, but found out that they were no longer made in England (they have since introduced a line that continues to be produced in England). So I moved to another brand, Blundstone boots, which have proved to be more comfortable to me. But immediately after I bought mine, they also announced that they would no longer be made in Tazmania. So, mine were the last of the Australian Blundstones. I need new ones soon, and I'm trying to decide whether to go with new Blunnies (made in China, probably), or return to Docs (English-made).

In any case, these are an interesting example of appropriation. What I think is an excellent question to ask is, what do Docs (or Blunnies, for that matter), mean to me? Why do I wear them? For certain, there is much more that simple utility going on here.

Money

I've officially made some money on my book. The amount so far: $66.50.

You should take a moment and read this.

This.

Then, this.

(via here).

Queer theory

I received a call for papers from IASPM (that's the International Association for the Study of Popular Music, for those who might not know) today, and I found the write-up quite interesting. It deals with queer theory, and I think that it is one of the most misunderstood areas of theoretical inquiry around (especially in my immediate scholarly circles). So here is the write up:

Queer theory is likely one of the most well-known and controversial recent schools of thought, and its impact has been felt in the academic world and beyond. It appeared in the early 1990s in the United States, as a direct offshoot of LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered) collectives, the work of Foucault (in particular, his History of Sexuality and ideas such as “biopolitics”), and Derrida’s deconstructionism. This school of thought, while in no way a homogenous trend, is characterized by the questioning of the notion of gender and the idea that sexual identity and behaviour would be genetically determined. In this context, queer theory formulates the hypothesis that sexuality is actually a social construction. This presumes that sexuality is not biologically stamped on human nature, but rather takes on ever-changing social forms, wherein a given individual can live out one or many sexual identities. This hypothesis leads us to call into question social classifications from the fields of traditional psychology, philosophy, anthropology, and sociology, which tend to look at one measure at a time for classifying individuals (class, gender, etc.).

Musicology has also fallen under the influence of queer theory, what with the research groups, books, articles, and dissertations that address previously unexplored or even taboo issues, such as the construction of sexual identity through or in music. From a methodological perspective, this school of thought has been part of the recent theoretical renewal at an international level, wherein “traditional” methods of musical analysis and historical musicology are used in concert with historical, sociological, literary, aesthetic, anthropological, and socio-geographical techniques. This allows the researcher to apprehend the construction process of the musical “object” and its social dimension in all its complexity.

If interested, you can find the original call for papers here.

By the way, I do this in my work, I think.

Update

This has been quite a week, especially in terms of my health.

I'm not dying or anything, but I have a terrible cold. I really don't care for it. And it isn't gone yet. (And it hasn't stopped me from writing in sentence fragments.)

In any case, I will begin to blog again presently. After all, there is really no excuse (except for the house being for sale, and coming home late, and having a daughter that continues to not want to sleep, plus all of the work for school, and the committee work, and the new program, and the fact that I have a cold).

Of course, I'm drunk with power, so I won't punish myself for not posting a blog post for the last 3 days; as professors throughout generations have exclaimed, "I've already taken the exam!" Even so, I will continue posting starting now (I've got the weekend to recover, after all). The Feist ideas are still germinating, and I'm beginning to think about the Gaga material I need to put together in earnest. Here's a hint on that latter material:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

You might think you know my answer re: Gaga, but you might be wrong. Or you might be right. Or whatever. I had better move on before my sentence fragments return.

Sick

And I don't mean that in the "cool" way either. I've got a terrible cold, and I don't care for it one bit.

I've decided to begin writing about Feist's new single and her status as Canada's "darling," and the celebrant of the CBC's 75th anniversary. There should be some interesting relationships there, I think. I'm also going to start the presentation on Gaga for the end of the month at Aqua Books in Winnipeg. It'll be a busy few weeks. Did I mention that I'm developing my paper from the U of W McLuhan conference into an essay for a book? Add that to the list as well.

And a new Stonehill album is coming out next week. I'm glad for that. But for now, I must sleep. I feel so terribly sick tonight.

Not the most exciting event

I've asked my students to write about a local, national or international event of the day in their blogs. Many have chosen instead to write about their lives on any particular day. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it is interesting. On the one hand, I'm happy to read about the kinds of things that my students struggle with or enjoy; on the other, I don't want the daily writing assignment to be simply a place for students to write "sweet nothings" on the (web)page.

In any case, here's a bit of my life today. I've got this silly HP printer that I got with a purchase of my iMac; it was basically free with a rebate, so it seemed a good purchase. It had been sitting in my small office at home for quite a while and I thought that I would take it to school to use as a printer in my office there. Instead of transferring files from my MacBook to the institutional computer, I would simply print out a copy on the HP printer. Well, you would think it would be so easy. Instead, it has not been so easy.

It seems that I can't download the drivers for this particular printer from Apple (I never thought I would type such words - "drivers" and "Apple" in the same sentence). As an Apple shareholder (2 shares), I blame HP for this. Now, dear reader, not all hope is lost. I will try again with my MacBook and see if I can get the thing to work (it seems to work fine with the iMac, so there is hope, I think).

Exciting.

I'm toying with posting some writing that explores more interesting moments in popular music--hooks that make us listen and bring us pleasure (Roland Barthes, my favourite theorist, writes about cruising a text and finding those things that hook, and ultimately repeat, sites in which we experience pleasure). We'll see if I do that. You can see some of this kind of thing if you search my blog for an entry on Dylan and Tara's song on Buffy. I suspect that you could also read my book on the subject. Did I mention that already?

I've asked my students to do this, soooooo...

I haven't posted since May (my ever-so-wonderful post waxing eloquently about U2 and notions of time and Christian redemption). Since I have asked my students in "Writing for the Media" to post every day (except weekends and holidays), I thought I would take on the challenge as well.

This is not the first time I've assigned this; the last time worked wonders for some and some, not so much. In any case, I will be interested to see what people write about. For now, I will convey some of the thoughts after my first double block of teaching. It was a bit short - I suspect that my students didn't mind. Often, with all of the introductory things and changes that accompany the first week of University, a shorter class might seem a pleasant chance to catch one's breath. I trust my students used the early dismissal as a chance to set up their blogs and, perhaps, take a breath.

We talked about Steve Jobs at (and away from) Apple, the transition from analog to digital television signals (over the air) and what Michael Geist calls UBB: Usage Based Billing. More on that here. For those who might not know, Dr. Geist is a law professor at the University of Ottawa. He's Canada's version of Lawrence Lessig, a powerhouse when it comes to copyright law and internet/intellectual property discussions. For any interested in Communications & Media issues in Canada, he is a good one to follow.

Above is 257 words, in case anyone is counting. That is all. I will make all attempts to post tomorrow with insight, wit and intelligence.

Some thoughts on U2: "What time is it in the world?"

I had the privilege of seeing U2 in Winnipeg last evening.

"What time is it in the world?" This was a question asked (both directly and indirectly) throughout the concert. Before the band came out, the large screen displayed the current time and the corresponding time at other places around the globe, answering that question.

That question was alluded to in the video introduction to "Zooropa," when questions like "What do you want?" were asked. While "What time is it in the world?" was not one of those questions, the theme of questioning continued.

What is most interesting, though, was the asking of the question by the voice over the loudspeakers before the encore. The answer is, "It's showtime!" The band then embarked on their rendition of "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me," a song that originally appeared on the soundtrack for the movie Batman Forever. The original video for that song shows an animated MacPhisto, Bono's devilish character, as the singer of the song. Bono seemed to embody this character last evening as well, at a few times during the concert.

He was MacPhisto without the horns or makeup while singing "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me," but he was also MacPhisto during "Until the End of the World," where he also played Judas, the betrayer of Jesus. At the start of "Until the End of the World," the video screen displayed what appeared to be the time, "4:33." It is unclear what this "time" means. Perhaps it is a scriptural reference (one can't help but be reminded of the numbers on the cover of All That You Can't Leave Behind, J33-3, which refer to Jeremiah 33:3), though this seems unlikely. Perhaps it is a reference to the length of the previous song on the setlist ("Elevation") - also unlikely. Is it the length of that particular song? Maybe.

What it does do is link that moment with the later one. "What time is it in the world? It's showtime." That question, once we hear it, was asked earlier (silently), and an answer was given (4:33). Then darkness came out. Judas, or MacPhisto, or Bono, sang of betrayal, of sinking, and of redemption. This talk of redemption doesn't last though: MacPhisto returns later (probably at 5:30 or 6:00, of we want to push this silly time reference), less redeemed, as it is, after all, showtime.

What does this mean? I don't know, but maybe it speaks a bit to the notion of redemption and fallenness, failure and restoration. These are perilous states, as is, perhaps, the state of being at a concert. As concert goers, we are liminal, "betwixt-and-between," somewhat in a state of timelessness as well, removed from the everyday, ritualized.

The latter "What time is it in the world?" reminds one of the earlier moment of "waves of regret, waves of joy," reaching out to a redeemer. "What time is it in the world?" It is a time of failure, fallenness, redemption.

Followed by failure, fallenness and, thankfully, redemption.

Morrissey

Happy birthday to Steven Patrick Morrissey, who turns 52 today. “In my own strange way . . . I’ll always stay true to you.”

Providence Communications & Media

Consider Communications & Media at Providence College; an excellent education from a Christian perspective. http://tinyurl.com/3zlo5fw

Look what just popped up on the web!

André Racicot

It's not really a secret that I used to be a major fan of Montreal goaltender André Racicot. In fact, I used to collect every possible variant version of his cards (I still have them). I remember that I once sent a letter to him (care of the Canadiens), hoping that he would send me an autograph, but I never received anything back.

I remember, also, when my father and I went to see the Canadiens play at the Corel Centre (now Scotia Place, or whatever) and there was a girl in the distance that was wearing a Habs jersey with "Racicot" on the back. My father encouraged me to go up to her and say hello (I didn't).

I did a search for Racicot just now and found a page on the Canadiens' web site that did a kind of "Where are they now?" interview, so I thought I would reproduce it here:

Where are you living these days?
I live in Ste-Agathe-des-Monts in the Laurentians.

What have you been up to?
I’m working for a mining company called Agnico-Eagle. We’re just starting a new project in Nunavut that will see us open a gold mine there soon.

How many times a year do you strap the pads back on?
I got back at it last November. I was in nets in a game honoring the 45th Anniversary of the Rouyn-Noranda Citadelles, my old junior team. Prior to that, it had been five years since I’d played though. I’ve got to say that it really got the juices flowing again. I still play in a beer league with my buddies but not in nets.

Are you still in touch with any old teammates?
I’m still in contact with a few guys from the Rouyn area that are around my age, guys like Eric Desjardins, Pierre Turgeon and Stephane Matteau. We get together every once in a while, but we all have our own families and hectic schedules.

How many Habs games do you watch per year?
I watch whenever I can and I make sure to catch a few games at Bell Centre each season.

Who is your favorite current Canadiens player?
I really liked what I saw from Maxim Lapierre last season. He works really hard and has a nice edge to his game.

What is the favorite piece of Habs memorabilia that you own?
I sold a few things, but I still have a few collector’s items. Aside from my jerseys that I still have, I’ve a collection of blown up action shots of myself.

Where do you keep your 1993 Stanley Cup ring?
It’s resting comfortably in a safety deposit box at the bank and I never take it out. It’s probably been about seven years since I’ve seen it.

I think it's a bit sad that he doesn't wear his cup ring. He should be proud that he was part of that team.

Yay André!!

Yay for acceptance letters!

My paper, entitled "'There is a Light that Never Goes Out': The Stage as Mediation in Live Performance," has been accepted for the IASPM-CA conference in Montreal in June. I'm very happy about this. It will be a return to Montreal for longer than a day, something I haven't been able to do since we moved in 2008, plus it will be a return to my doctoral school, McGill. I'm very pleased.

Great recent pic

- from True to You, posted 11 December 2010 during the student protests in London.

(Note the Smiths T-Shirt that she is wearing)

There's a book coming out that you should check out (because I'm in it)

Coming in May 2011: Jim Berti and Durrell Bowman, Editors, Rush and Philosophy (Popular Culture and Philosophy Series) (Open Court, 2011).

From Amazon:

Rush and Philosophy does not set out to sway the public’s opinion, nor is it an awkward gushing of how much the authors love Rush. Rush and Philosophy is a fascinating look at the music and lyrics of the band, setting out to address thought-provoking questions. For example, elements of philosophical thinking from the likes of Jean Paul-Sartre, Ayn Rand, and Plato can be found in Peart’s lyrics; does this make Peart a disciple of philosophy? In what ways has technology influenced the band through the decades? Can there be too much technology for a power-trio? Can listening to Rush’s music and lyrics lead listeners to think more clearly, responsibly, and happily? Is the band’s music a “pleasant distraction” from the singing of Geddy Lee? In what ways is Rush Canadian? How can a band that has been referred to as “right-wing” also criticize big government, religion, and imperialism? Rush and Philosophy is written by an assortment of philosophers and scholars with eclectic and diverse backgrounds who love Rush’s music and who “get” the meaning and importance of it.

The part of the description that mentions the idea of "pleasant distraction" is referring to my essay, entitled "'Cruising in Prime Time': The Drumming of Neil Peart as Distraction." Look for it!

Wonderful Quote

Don't let the guy with the broom decide how many elephants are going to be in the parade.

- Merlin Mann, MacBreak Weekly Podcast #191: "Lost" (20 April 2010).

Stupid cars

I'm pretty depressed right now about vehicular transportation, especially automobiles.

This week, the local Toyota dealer called us asking us to come in. They were low on used cars, Yarises in particular, so they invited us to bring it in, and they would "give us a deal" for bringing it in early (we're leasing). Well, after a tiring 2 hour debacle, we signed a contract to purchase a 2010 Yaris sedan that was coming from somewhere else. Immediately after leaving the showroom, we began to second guess ourselves. Not 14 hours after signing the contract, we asked to get out of the deal. We were able to, but the dealer insisted that we pay for the transportation of the car from one dealer to another.

Then, this morning, coming out of the driveway, the front end of the car "brushed" with the snowbank and made a big noise. I wasn't very worried. After church, we noticed that the bumper was damaged and coming off on one side. We snapped it back as best we could, but you could imagine how I felt after that.

Right now, we are considering finishing up the lease and not getting a car at all. With this latest bumper incident, perhaps we will not even buy this current car. I don't know.

I just don't get it. I know that for many, this would not be a big deal. But to me, this is just such a downer.

Investing in Providence

Please considering supporting Christian higher education in Canada. Providence College provides excellent university-level education from a Christian perspective. I am the program coordinator for the Communications and Media major at Providence, and have done so for the last 2 years. I also teach most of the courses in the major. It is a great place to learn about the media that we invest in, and the highly visual world around us. For more information on how to give to Providence, go here.

Roland Barthes

It's no secret that the work of French theorist Roland Barthes is at the core of much of my academic work. I enjoy reading him, and I think that his ideas concerning pleasure and desire are quite useful in the study of celebrity. I find, also, that when I read Barthes, I am carried away by the prose (perhaps I lose subjectivity because of being assaulted by Barthes' "grain" within the "voice" of his writing?).

I was quite happy to hear that there is a new book by Barthes coming out in the next few weeks, called Mourning Diary, which is comprised of notes that Barthes made after the death of his mother (this is a subject that he speaks of in his wonderful Camera Lucida as well - students taking my course on photography next semester, take note). The New Yorker website happened to publish some of these cards (and their translations) recently, and I have decided to post one of the cards here.


Translation:
—”Never again, never again!”
—And yet there’s a contradiction: “never again” isn’t eternal, since you yourself will die one day.
“Never again” is the expression of an immortal.

I was also looking at Advanced Book Exchange and found this:



$300 USD is a bit out of my budget, but it would be a nice thing to have. I will be buying Mourning Diary, though.

(You can see the other cards, and read more at the New Yorker website.)

Some random thoughts

I watched My Neighbours The Yamadas (Isao Takahata, dir., 1999) today. Of course, the version I was watching was dubbed in English, with Jim Belushi as Takashi (the father Yamada) and Molly Shannon as Matsuko (the mother). Though I own the DVD (released by Disney somewhere around 2005 or 2006), I've only watched the film once. Watching it today was a great experience. First of all, it is a funny movie. There isn't so much a consistent narrative, but there is a kind of bookend sequence: it opens with an older relative giving the newly married Yamadas some advice on how to weather the storms of life, and ends with Takashi giving some unscripted advice to another young couple. I found some sequences actually quite touching (especially one part where Takashi is asked to tell some local hoodlums to stop racing around the neighbourhood on their motorcycles - he attempts to confront them but ultimately fails to be a "hero"). If you haven't yet seen it, I would recommend it. It is not a normal North American cartoon (nor is it in the regular Studio Ghibli style that one might expect), but it is worth the time to watch.

In other news, I bought a new Douglas Coupland book today, called Player One. I was under the impression that the book came out in November, but alas the local bookstore had 31 copies. I picked mine up, and will start reading it tonight. I am currently slogging through William Gibson's Spook Country (second attempt). I love his stuff, but I'm having trouble with this one. His new book came out last week.

I am also reading through the old 1990s comic book run of Starman (from DC Comics). I am enjoying it, though perhaps not as much as I thought I would. A few days ago, I rewatched Watchmen (Zack Snyder, dir., 2009) and really enjoyed it. I am tempted to pick up the "Ultimate Edition" of the movie, but I probably won't. It is one of those movies that no one in my household enjoys, except for me.

On that note, I saw that Clerks 2 and Zack & Miri (both directed by Kevin Smith) were on sale at the local HMV for $6 a piece. I didn't particularly mind those movies last time I saw them, though I think I've grown out of that style of humour. In any case, I might pick them up - I think I would rather pick up Watchmen, though.

Thanks for reading. Good night.

that pesky book

It's now in the hands of the people at McFarland.

Gaga and Moz!

From Morrissey-Solo (who got it from Rolling Stone):

"The Fame Moz-sters
Lady Gaga, Morrissey and Justin Tranter of Semi-Precious Weapons hang out backstage in Manchester, England after Gaga's June 3rd show."

(I don't know who Justin Tranter is, and I don't care. Gaga and Morrissey!!)

Christians and Music

A great quote I came across today, from Lee Bozeman:

Music and Christianity. Has there ever been a more misunderstood and terribly unhealthy relationship than between these two? The evangelical mentality has so pervaded and manipulated the modern western Christian that he is unable to see that Christianity is not a product to be bought and sold, nor is it a message to be propagandized, but rather, it is a completely counter-culture existential lifestyle. Contemporary Christian Music is nothing more than a musical version of McDonald's. They offer little in the way of true sustenance and appeal to our lowest common desire: our desire to be entertained. A true artist seeks to find peace with himself, and we, as onlookers, see something that is real and we cling to and believe in it. The truest Christian artist is the most human artist.

You can find the original interview here, and listen to Bozeman's music through here.

Big News!!

Morrissey and death

From a recent posting by singer Morrissey, reflecting upon the death of a "super-fan" Melinda Hsu, a.k.a. Mel Torment:

The only way to deal with Mel's death is to accept it. There is no other way. We all have a certain unbreakable appointment and we are all helpless targets in that regard. Life's only promise is its final deadline. When Mel, and others who are dear to us, depart, we should at least realize as we shuffle along living our small and persecuted lives, how absolutely ridiculous it is to be afraid of anything or anyone on this unhappy planet. Most people are standardized and unoriginal, which is useful, because it makes the Mels of the world stand out even more. Rich in ideas, her self-made calendars and t-shirts were always very funny. You will catch up with her in the afterlife, where I'm sure she will be as creative and busy and as Mel Torment as ever.

The whole post is worth reading. This is an interesting window into Morrissey, a rare view of a different side of him. I should mention that I never met Hsu, either online or at any concerts (of course, I've only seen Moz twice). Hsu was a scholar, though, and I cite her Master's thesis in my doctoral dissertation.

You can read the rest of Morrissey's post here.

Great Quote

"Don't let the guy with the broom decide how many elephants are going to be in the parade." - Merlin Mann

(From MacBreak Weekly episode 191. Listen to it here.)

Published

For my first ever post-Ph.D. publication (besides book reviews), take a look at:

Greco, Nicholas. "The Companion as a Doll: The Female Enigma in Whedon’s Firefly and Dollhouse." Sexual Rhetoric in the Works of Joss Whedon: New Essays. Edited by Erin B. Waggoner. Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, 2010. 239-247.

You can take a look at the book here:

http://www.mcfarlandpub.com/book-2.php?id=978-0-7864-4750-3

You can also find it on Amazon. Yay me!!

Sick

I'm sick. Serafina's sick. My wife, thankfully, is not.

Christmas was a nice time had by all (as was my birthday). I received all kinds of nice things, including a couple of shirts.

I also received (gave?) Serafina some sloppy kisses (that's probably why we're sick).

I have a book to review, and I have yet to review it. It is called The British Pop Dandy: Masculinity, Popular Music and Culture (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2009) by Stan Hawkins. While I am looking forward to reading through it, I find it a bit daunting right now (since I'm sick).

Also, I am writing yet another article on Dollhouse for a collection by BenBella Books (edited by Jane Espenson). I'll hopefully be presenting a paper on this article in St. Louis in the Spring for the Popular Culture Association conference. I suppose I have yet to mention that I will be presenting a paper on violence and popular music in Regina at the IASPM conference in June.

Oh, what fun!

Have I mentioned that I am sick?

For those keeping track ...

Another publication (a long awaited review):

Queering the Popular Pitch. Edited By Sheila Whiteley and Jennifer Rycenga. New York: Routledge, 2006. xix + 308 pp. ISBN 0-415-97805-X (pb)
Nicholas P. Greco
Popular Music, Volume 28, Special Issue 03, October 2009, pp 450-451
doi:10.1017/S0261143009990262, Published Online by Cambridge University Press 20 Oct 2009

Everything counts.

Watch Dollhouse

Fridays, 9pm eastern, 8pm pacific, on FOX!

SOUNDS (without actual sounds): Morrissey - "It's not your Birthday Anymore"

I'm presenting on Morrissey's "It's not your Birthday Anymore" in the "Popular Music and Culture" class at Providence College tomorrow morning. I am a bit concerned because I find the song quite mean, not to anyone in the class, but rather to the person in the song. There is a certain air of violence in the song, including some of a sexual nature, it seems. While Morrissey's lyrics have often been mean, I think that this song is downright terrible. This isn't to say that there is no merit to discussing it; actually, it needs to be discussed. I think in terms of a narrative analysis. What is going on? And why is Morrissey yelling?

If one places the song in the context of the singer's other work, within the discourse of his vocal expression, it is extremely striking. Morrissey is never this loud, to be frank. Is it a coincidence that the song precedes another song about death? Is the second half of Years of Refusal darker than once thought, or can the album be thought of as another part of the spectrum of violence begun on Ringleader of the Tormentors and "The Father who must be Killed"?

If you get a chance, take a listen to some of these songs. How do you (or I) think Morrissey is situating himself with these violent lyrics and (frankly) violent vocal expressions?

SOUNDS: Amber Benson - "Under Your Spell"

What to write about this song? It is all about Amber Benson's voice here. I particularly find pleasure in the way that she slightly shortens the word "right" (at the end of the line "something just isn't right"). I also think that the slightly subdued nature of her voice, and the fact that it is placed at the front of the mix, is particularly striking. Listen:



This is a beautiful song. Something that is particularly interesting is, as the character Tara, Amber speaks with a slight stutter. Of course, while singing, Tara does not stutter. How, then, is this weakness (if you will accept my reading of a stutter as a weakness) expressed?* Her voice is at the front of the mix but still seems somewhat subdued. It is a powerful but delicate voice. Barthes' "grain of the voice" comes to mind here (yes, again). I hear Amber's breath in the voice. Her throat "gets in the way," but it sounds nice. I don't really know how to explain it. Her words are clipped, and much of the singing points to her physical body: her throat, her lips and tongue. If you haven't listened to this song, I encourage you to track down a full version.

Let me know what you think.

* I should mention that Tara's stutter seems to be an indication of her timidity. Her discomfort in being around other people (in particular, Willow, who she loves) is expressed in her stutter. So, perhaps the general example of stuttering as a weakness is not really what I am suggesting.

Beginning a new series here - SOUNDS

I thought that I would attempt to post at least as often as my students, and I'll really try to do this. I may not be able to do this all the time, but I'll try. I thought, if I'm going to try to force myself to do all of this writing, then I should write about something worthwhile. Therefore, I will try to document moments in the music that I listen to that seem to be flashes of pleasure, something which philosopher/semiotician Roland Barthes would suggest is involved in what he calls "cruising."

So you know what I mean, I can try to provide a small sample of the song to which I'm referring.

I think I can identify a kind of “break” that Barthes might talk about, that brings pleasure as I "cruise" a "text," which, in this case, is Bob Dylan's song, "Tangled Up in Blue." At around 32-33 seconds (7-8 seconds in the clip below), just when Bob sings “rain,” his voice ascends in pitch and it kind of squeaks (not the right descriptive, but whatever). This is a moment of breaking, a fragmenting of the voice, and it’s a kind of moment that surprised me. In my “cruising,” I experienced this “turning” which caught me (and continues to catch me). The same feeling now happens for me while he continues singing. Every time he enters this part of the song (the chorus?), I am “flooded” with pleasure. Now, I suppose my language is too flowery, but hopefully you get what I mean.



From an email with Michael J. Gilmour:

Around the time he was writing the album, Dylan was studying with painter Norman Raeben. According to this book, "Raeben brought Dylan to a more fruitful understanding of time, enabling him to view narrative not in such strictly linear terms, but to telescope past, present, and future together to attain a more powerful, unified focus on the matter at hand. ... [in "Tangled Up in Blue"] temporality, location, and viewpoint shift back and forth from verse to verse, rather in the manner of montaged jump cuts in a movie ... allowing him to reveal underlying truths about the song's characters while letting them remain shadowy, secretive figures" (Andy Gill). Not related to "cruising" but a fun observation just the same.

Oh, but it is related to Barthes' "cruising." Barthes talks about cruising being “related to the catch of sentences, citations, turns of phrase, fragments.” This last part, fragments, would seemingly correspond to the “montaged jump cuts” that Gill identifies. I wonder if, also, the text (the song) is put forth like a film, to be “spied-upon,” as Barthes would say.

Also, I read more into “turns of phrase” than simply “a manner of expression,” but rather a kind of contour, either in terms of vocal phrasing or even melodic contour.

Funny how even the quote from Gill seems to talk about desire, as well as this idea of enigma. The enigma of the narrative captures the listener, I think, and Dylan’s voice, I would argue, is part of this.

For more on Barthes' notion of "cruising," see Barthes, Roland. “Twenty Key Words for Roland Barthes.” The Grain of the Voice: Interviews 1962-1980. Translated by Linda Coverdale. New York: Hill and Wang, 1985. 230-231.

Writing, Writing, Writing

One of the classes I am teaching this term is called "Writing for the Media." One of the things that I will be demanding of my students is that they write, and that they write a lot. One way that they will accomplish this will be through the continual creation of blog entries (every day, except for weekends and holidays). While this can seem a daunting task, it is not unlike writing for media in that there are constant deadlines and constant requirements in terms of columns and there is a constant readership (or a perceived or perhaps potential readership) that is waiting for the next piece to be written.

So, this might seem to be a difficult and unfair assignment. After all, so many words over the term - something like 6000 words or around 24 pages - for a first year class. Crazy! Mean! Just plain silly!

Or extremely practical. And maybe even beneficial. I suspect there might be budding writers in this class, and perhaps it will be a treat reading what they have to write. I look forward to it.

After a long while, I return . . . with wonderful insights!

In June, I presented a paper at the IASPM conference in Halifax. At the conference, my colleague from the University of Toronto at Scarborough, Dr. Alan Stanbridge, presented a paper on the new generation of jazz musicians successfully engaging with current pop music. One of the examples that he gave of the previous generation's quite unsuccessful engagement with contemporary pop music was Frank Sinatra's cover of Petula Clark's "Downtown." Stanbridge suggests that disgust seems to be evoked by Sinatra's voice, a disgust with the mainstream rock or youth music, or the synthesis of pop and jazz, that Sinatra was performing.

I wonder if something else is happening here. Morrissey does something similar vocally, recently, especially in live performance. I wonder if it is a kind of ironic self-reference rather than a kind of statement against the mainstream (unless it is perhaps a kind of self-reference that is in fact of distaste because he is performing that particular music). In any case, I read Sinatra's performance as an aural gesture which refers to the singer rather than explicitly the mainstream.

I should mention that Sinatra's performance (with its "barfy" sounds) is full of wonderful musical moments, however cheesy the performance might be. It is now one of my favourite recordings.

New Arrival

Dearest friends!

We would like to announce the arrival of Serafina Persephone Greco, born on April 29th at 11:12 pm Central at the St Boniface Hospital in Winnipeg. She weighed 7 pounds 2 ounces at birth and was 21 inches long. Both baby and mommy (and daddy) are doing fine.

We came home last night around 7pm and we are proud to say that we made it through our first night at home alone - all three of us are exhausted. She is a patient little thing - you should see us trying to take care of her in the middle of the night!

Thanks for all your prayers and support. Here are some hospital pics you may not have seen yet (unless you're on facebook).

Thanks for all the love and support!
Antonella, Nicholas and baby Serafina Persephone

so-so day

Things are moving along in my life. Work is okay - busy. I find that I can get upset easily, and, for sure, I am beginning to really tire (I'm sure my students are also feeling it at this point in the semester).

I was happy to hear from an old friend recently. I often wonder about where people have ended up after all this time, people that I used to invest a whole lot of myself into. I'm happy that they are doing well.

More people are seemingly interested in a course on Joss Whedon's Firefly. I'm hoping to have it on the books in 2010. I wish it could be offered more quickly, but I can only do what I can do.

That is all for now.

I apologize

I'm sorry for not posting for months and months. There are no excuses (in fact, I'm doing this right now instead of working on a lecture for tomorrow).

I should tell you that a lot has happened here in sunny Winnipeg. So you know, my wife and I are expecting a little one to arrive by the end of April. I sent another review to be published in Popular Music. I'll be presenting a paper on Barthes and "cruising" the voice of one Leslie Feist at the 2009 IASPM Canada conference in Halifax. And, this summer, I'll be preparing some book proposals, to see if anyone might want to publish my PhD dissertation as a book.

I'm also a Founding Fellow in the Canadian Institute for the Study of Pop Culture & Religion. You can find out more about the Institute by going to http://popculturecanada.ca.

So, that is all for today. Feel free to follow my Twitter stream - you can see it on the left of this screen. Hopefully I will post there more that I post here. Watch for more updates to come.

My very own work of Abstract Impressionism

This is me working out my frustrations that no one was listening to me during my class today.

Of course, this isn't really true. Most were listening to me during my class today.

Another publication

For those of you keeping track, I have had another review published in the primary journal for popular music studies, Popular Music. You can find my review of David Pattie's book, Rock Music in Performance (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007) in Popular Music 27:3 (October 2008), pp. 515-516.

Disney

I have often been fascinated (especially when I've visited the Parks) with the power of Disney. What always go me was (is) their park in Florida. I've been there many times in the last seven years (oh, to have that money back; alternately, oh, to be there again) and I really like the fact that the Disney parks in Florida cover an area the size of Boston, they have their own transportation infrastructure, and police, too (well, security guards really).

It's about POWER. It's not the cuteness or the imagery, although I like that too. It's not the sanitization of the global experience (although that is an element of their power). It's the sheer control that the corporation holds.

I don't think this is a negative (although it might very well be). It is certainly fascinating.

The Apostle Paul's Movie Guide

Peter Kerr, in a vignette article in the book, Understanding Evangelical Media (edited by Schultze and Wood), writes about how Evangelicals filter which mainstream movies should be watched. "WWJD" is often an acronym that comes up in oonversation: what would Jesus do? Well, in a way, I think that is a bit of a loaded question. Would he go to a movie in the first place? Not sure - they didn't have movies when He was on the planet, so we don't know. We know that He ate with sinners, which I suspect might be similar to going to bars and so forth. He drank real-life wine - most would agree with that. Would he engage with modern media and entertainment? Well, if He was truly human (and most would agree with that), then he would have engaged with whatever mainstream media there was then.

I wonder if people would consider what Jesus would do when they get into a car. Would He drive? Not sure. He didn't drive while He was on the planet (most would agree with that). So should we drive now?

But that's maybe not a moral issue. Or is it?

Back to media, and the article at hand, Kerr suggests that Paul might have something to say about watching movies. Kerr quotes 1 Corinthians 6:12 and comments:

He refuses to become a slave to things that are merely permissible and not really beneficial. He captures the middle ground between outright rejection and mindless acceptance. (p.63)

I suspect that Paul liked entertainment a lot. He was a scholar after all, and probably liked to think about how things, thoughts, metanarratives, work. He did flesh out much of the theology of the Christian Church (most would agree with that).

And I think most of us like entertainment. That's why many of us find it hard to just stop watching everything; you know, Jesus didn't own a television (most would agree with that).

My final question, though, is how do you know if some kind of media object (film television broadcast, popular song) is ultimately beneficial. Who is the judge of such things? What is the answer? Who knows (and most would agree with that).

How to blog (from Merlin Mann)

Blogging as a waste of time

In a short piece that is inserted in the first chapter of Schultze’s Understanding Evangelical Media, the author suggests that Evangelicals might spend more time doing nothing in the activity of blogging, and reading blogs, than being productive. I wonder, though, what the difference might be between wasting time blogging (or reading blogs) or wasting time going to church.

While I’m not suggesting that one shouldn’t go to church, I’m thinking that it is not much of a stretch to suggest that there are times in each of our lives when attending a church service is an activity of shutting down. We do not want to be there and we spend that precious time with a black cloud over our head, as if it was raining and everything. We wish we were elsewhere and we spend all of that time thinking of other things when we should be thinking about God and allowing Christ to change our lives.

I wonder if the author decided that blogs were apparently the real “time stealers” of society, one of the most terrible ills brought to us by the satanic members of the New Media cadre. Now, perhaps I’m going too far; after all, the short segment appears in a chapter of a book that is, in part, encouraging Evangelical media makers to make Evangelical media better. But why all of the negativity regarding blogging? Can not the same criticisms (that we waste time) be levied against all text-based media that ends up not imparting much wisdom to the reader?


I bet you’ve wasted all kinds of time reading this little rant. Go to church!!

At the intersection of society and media

I had an interesting talk with a local newspaper journalist about the advent of new media and its implications on society. She mentioned that she has progrssive lenses, where the top of her lens is for seeing far, the middle of the lens is for mid-distance looking, and the bottom of her lens is for reading.

She mentioned that, for reading things online, she required mid-distance lenses, but because the style of glasses a few years ago were too thin from top to bottom, this would cause problems with her reading of a computer screen. She claims that it is better with the wider (or taller) styles of glasses now. There is more room for that mid-range section in the middle of the progressive lens.

This just might be a case of new media (newspapers online, for instance) beginning to dictate style.

Or not. But it is something very interesting that I never ever thought about.

Update

Things are being repaired at our place at a quick pace - at least in terms of foundation work. I suppose that when you pay lots for something do be done, it is, and it's done quickly.

We will still have to wait until September for the bathroom and, I suppose, the other plumbing work to be done. We are hoping that there isn't a problem with the main sewer drain, but there might be.

As for work, things are moving along. I'm continuing to finalize the syllabi and they are just about done. I am looking forward to teaching these courses.

That's all for now.

Believe me, no news from this end could very well be good news.