#gulin

[digitalfountains]

Meri Gulin

[pseudo-satisfaction]

[sudaul]

[womenofnoise]

Elif Gülin Soğuksu - experimental music composer and performer born in Istanbul, based in the Hague

[luegootravez]

Meri Gulin by © Lina Tesch

[worldofbeauties]

Meri Gulin

[archive-poetry]

—Igor Gulin, Kontur, translated by Your Language My Ear

2024.09.30 - poets.org poem-a-day

[x]

Kontur

Igor Gulin

translated from the Russian by Your Language My Ear S

**

The angle is too wide. It’s really an angle, not a cone. I keep slipping down over and over. But—I catch on the vertices. I hang like a piece of seaweed at the periphery of the gaze. It’s the same story with the tables. It always amazed me how nothing falls off them in his work, and now it’s like I can understand the utter despair of these victuals. I’ve also fused into place—at a 25-degree angle. You can’t pick me up or drop me. But I’d like to slide off already, into the hungry rustle of antennae, to the local partisans’ camp. I lie at my quiet angle facing the cobalt contour and am afraid to touch it. I don’t know what unfathomable geometry preserves it. At one point I studied Italian but now all I can muster is an oily magari. It has to do with the relationship between what’s alive and what’s salty.

**

These figures are annoying when they’re the first to fall. They form predictable vacuums. There are two of them here. And also, in the shape of a small square, a spot of color—F. I have a hunch they named her in honor of an unsuccessful dancer, but I’d like to think otherwise. It always seemed to me that those splotches of his had a lot of, not passion, but love. They break apart the bedroom scene, let the paint run down and abandon the hopeless composition. In the awkward dubstep undertaken by F there’s a similar generosity. She pins my legs and gives my doomed hands a soft task. Tears, fisticuffs, the ritual sacrifice of round birds. Their fall happens at too great a distance to divine anything from the asphalt remains. Now I can’t turn my head, I watch the handless clock, and time settles in a stiffening vertebra like salt. In two days we’ll go to the factory to flirt with the spectors of labor. I will crown myself with the thorny wreath of inaction, slash open my hand, and that stillborn chick we couldn’t see from the balcony will ooze out, rise up from my blood. You’ll blow on it and my wound will acquire the gift of sight.

**

The metaphor is as old and precise as the devil. I want to be the text, you want to be the image. Fucking gender. You don’t want to be looked at. I am trying to become illegible. Fucking gender. One day we will be like angels. Composed of a single contour. Meanwhile, I watch the ink fill in your body.

About this Poem

“‘Kontur’ [Contour] was written in 2014 as a kind of postscript for a big cycle of prose poems called Encumbrances/Narratives. It was first published online in the digital magazine QueerCulture (no longer available), and then in Khlebushek [Lil’ Loaf of Bread] (Freepoetry, 2017). It is actually a rather straightforward lyrical piece. The situation: two people are lying on the couch. One is in love with the other; the second one is asleep; the first one gazes upon the loved one and endures a kind of noli me tangere experience. Instead of touching the loved one, he pictures the scene as a series of homages to favorite painters. In the first fragment, it is David Shterenberg; in the second, Francis Bacon; and in the third, Paul Klee.” —Igor Gulin, translated from Russian by Ainsley Morse

Контур

**

Угол слишком широк. Это – именно угол, не конус. Я вновь и вновь проскакиваю вниз. Но – цепляюсь за стрелки. Вишу водорослью на периферии взгляда. Та же история со столами. Я всегда удивлялся, как у него с них ничего не падает, а сейчас будто бы понимаю невозможное отчаяние этих продуктов. Я так же врос – под углом в 25 градусов. Меня ни возьмешь, ни уронишь. А хотелось бы уже скатиться – в голодный шелест усиков, в лагерь к местным партизанам. Я лежу под тихим углом к кобальтовому контуру, и боюсь к нему прикасаться. Не знаю, что за бездонная геометрия его хранит. Когда-то я учил итальянский, но сейчас все что могу вымолвить – промасленное magari. Оно касается отношений живого и соленого.   **

Эти фигуры раздражают, когда падают первыми. Образуют заведомые пустоты. Здесь таких две. И еще – небольшим квадратом, пятном краски – Ф. Я догадываюсь, ее назвали в честь неудавшейся танцовщицы, но хочу думать иначе. Мне всегда казалось, в этих его пятнах много не страсти, но любви. Они разламывают сцену постели, дают краске сбежать, покинуть безнадежную композицию. В нелепом дабстепе, затеянном Ф., есть схожая щедрость. Она блокирует мои ноги и дает мягкое дело обреченным рукам.

Слезы, драка, жертвоприношение круглых птиц. Слишком далекое их падение, чтобы выгадать хоть что-то по асфальтным останкам. Теперь я не могу повернуть голову, смотрю в циферблат без стрелок, и время откладывается солью в каменеющем позвонке. Через два дня мы пойдем на завод, кокетничать с призраками труда. Я короную себя терновым венцом бездействия, рассеку руку, и тот, не видимый нам с балкона, мертворожденный цыпленок вытечет, проступит из моей крови. Ты подуешь на него, и моя рана получит зрение.   **

Метафора стара и точна как черт. Я хочу стать текстом, ты хочешь стать изображением. Ебаный гендер. Ты не хочешь, чтобы на тебя смотрели. Я пытаюсь стать нечитаемым. Ебаный гендер. Однажды мы будем как ангелы. Состоять из одного только контура. Пока я смотрю, как чернила заполняют твое тело.

[russianreader]

Gennady Shpalikov: The Soviet Guy Debord

Alexander Ivanov, “Gennady Shpalikov: Being Restless” (in Russian, with no subtitles) Gennady Shpalikov and Guy Debord were nearly the same age, and their popularity peaked at the same time. But is this the only thing that unites the French philosopher and the Russian writer? Alexander Ivanov, founder of the publishing house Ad Marginem, will show that these two figures were connected not only…

[flowersmandi]

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[digitalfountains]

Meri Gulin

[lesbellesaffiches]

Affiche par Marie Carmarans-Gulin

[sudaul]

[whereifindsanity]

flickr.com

Darrell Gulin

[jnjo]

curled up II Franz Kaindl, 1932 / Edouard Gaspard Castres, 1881-1964 / Angelina Miropolskaya, - / Nazar Hulyn (Gulin), 1970-2003 / Dominique Louis , - / Laurent Marcel Salinas, 1913-2010

[guardian-of-time-if]

As for the other part of your ask, I won't say anything about how Oren or Samira feel about MC living with the emperor or what he offered them in exchange for raising the MC , but I will say that MC is not going through all this heartbreak for nothing.

What do you mean with " MC is not going through all this heartbreak for nothing."? I mean it's obvious that for the story, the Emperor interests, and also MC's material confort, MC being raised at court is the best outcome. Even if you won't say what, are there other reasons for this "betrayal" is good? Except solidifying MC's abbandomnet issues

Hi Anon! For MC, growing up at court is obviously better for her material comforts, as you mention. There are other reason's that will be revealed. One comes up in chapter 3.

More poetically, if MC hadn't been taken in by the emperor, she never would have met any of the ROs. (Except if you met Lukyan and Tzesar before the emperor, but that would have been her only interaction with them.) I would say there is an element of "the trauma of my past is what led us to be together" that I would say makes it worth it.

If you're interested in some of the more specific story reason's I say that, it under the cut. I wouldn't say any of it is a major spoiler, but it is explained later if you'd rather wait.

The emperor bring MC to court is the only way MC could learn how to use her powers. When MC started having nightmares, Sam and Oren's first response was to make them stop even at the cost of blocking all of the benefits that come with Tempurion's power. When such things come to the attention of Emperor Konstantin and Grand Arcanist Gulin (in chapter 3), they go and find a Dragon Seeker to teach her how to control these powers.

More narratively, MC would not be in a position to impact any of the plot events if she had not been adopted by Lord Igor. Every plot event from chapter 3 onwards requires MC to be connected to the imperial family. In that sense, every way MC impacts the world for the better would be much more difficult, if not impossible without Emperor Konstantin and Lord Igor deciding to take her in.