Reading Update

As I may or may not have mentioned in my post about the new year, I had this grand ambition to start reading more. I'm happy to say that resolution has already started to fall flat on its face. Hit the proverbial wall.

I think part of my issue is that I attempt to read these extremely heady works. Like, I had been reading "The Wretched of the Earth" by Frantz Fanon. It's this anti-colonial political/philosophical tract written by a Martinique born doctor who sympathized with the Algerian nationalist movement. Malcolm X read it, so did the Black Panthers. And it is interesting, it makes some quite thought-provoking claims about the nature of colonized peoples. Needless to say, it's kind of eye opening to read it from the perspective of the Western "colonizer."

The other book I've been working on is "The Birth of Tragedy" by Friedrich Nietzche. It's supposedly his case for the necessity of art in life. I bought it a few years ago, thinking it'd be interesting. And it is. But I also forgot that the last time I read a piece of philosophy, it was in a philosophy class, with a philosophy professor to help me make sense of what I had read. I am desperately missing that aspect of this book. I read a few pages, and I have absolutely no clue of what just went through my brain. I thought it would help if I listened to Wagner while I read it, because Nietzche loved Wagner. Instead, I just found myself getting more distracted, because I'd start focusing on the music instead of the text, which screwed me up even farther.

On a sidenote, I picked up this LP box set of Columbia recordings that Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic did of Wagner orchestral works. I play them on my new turntable, which basically cost my life savings and a kidney. However, it is magnificent. As you may surmise, this is the Wagner that continually distracts me when I attempt to read Nietzche.

I keep asking myself whether I read this stuff because I'm actually interested in it, or whether I'm just reading it to tell other people I'm reading it. I think the answer to this lies in saying that I am interested in it, but the pretentious factor doesn't hurt either. It's true. Of course, it doesn't really help me when I have no idea of what I read.

I think most of this stems from some sort of unconscious desire to live in some sort of super intellectual 18th-19th century artistic circle. A world of grand ideas, salons, revolution, yada, yada, yada. It's too bad we can't do a "Real World" sort of thing where I live in a trendy urban loft with Tom Paine, Beethoven, Mark Rothko, Kirby Puckett, Bill Bryson, and John Coltrane. Probably Keira Knightley too. She could stay in my room.


I'm watching Lost in Translation. For those of you who haven't seen it, I would highly recommend it. Especially if you've ever traveled to Japan. Or ever felt very alone. Great film, great soundtrack too. A lot of My Bloody Valentine-esque tracks. And some great cinematography. One of my very favourite shots is when Bill Murray goes golfing, and they do this single take of him milling about a tee box in the shadow of Mount Fuji before teeing off. The whole thing lasts around 40 seconds, is one uninterrupted shot, and it is simply mesmerizing. The acting, especially Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson, is fantastic.

Alright, I'm going to go. I'm having lunch tomorrow at a Malaysian restaurant. Cannot wait.