#philosophy of rashomon

[iamadarshbadri]

What can IR students learn from the Movie "Rashomon"?

Let me tell you a story of Rashomon! Say a man – specifically a samurai – is killed in the woods in a seemingly remote village forest in Japan. One by one, each witness is brought before the court and told to narrate the story. First comes the woodcutter, who claims to have witnessed the horror of seeing the samurai’s dead body. Then comes a priest, who testifies against the likely attacker, a…

[deusvervewrites]

Welp. Time to ask for an Aragami AU.

Please?

Man it sure would be great for people who don't know what Aragami is if I had uploaded a bunch of streams of myself playing Aragami 2.

The Midoriya family are descended from members of the Kurotsuba Clan (who partially regained their humanity during the events of Aragami 2). The family line is full of Shadow Adepts, though this is kept a secret from outside of the family. It wasn't until Quirks emerged that they started practicing their shadow magic more openly.

When tiny child Izuku declared his desire to be a Hero Quirkless, Inko decided it was time to teach him about his heritage and they went on a trip to Rashomon Valley, still long protected by its barrier.

Over the next several years, Inko, Kurai, and Sumire trained Midoriya to use his Shadow Adept powers as a true Kurotsuba warrior. Swordplay, kunai, shadow leap and all the shadow-weaving powers of the Aragami.

In this AU, Inko is a Pro Hero, as a sidekick to Edgeshot. (Edgeshot is not related to the Kurotsuba, but his is classically trained in various ninja arts.) Inko has the skills to go independent, but as she's an Underground Hero, she prefers having access to Edgeshot's resources.

Midoriya is a Recommendation Student at UA, thanks to his physical conditioning, shadow magic, and the fact that the Kurotsuba have some detailed philosophy on the nature of conflict on account of the whole war thing.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hey Nalyra,

I was just wondering… do you interpret this as I took it - to mean “We’re not particularly interested in spending a lot of time in Lestat’s backstory/origin story, beyond what he’ll tell to the world while becoming a rockstar…”

Because The Vampire Lestat literally only has bookend chapters about becoming a rockstar, which is really part of Queen of the Damned.

I’m as excited about rockstar Lestat as anyone, and am happy with the idea of a lot of focus on it, but I am horrified at the prospect of eighteenth century Lestat not mattering much, or being too boring to bother about in depth. It’s where we get to discover the entirety of who Lestat is at the core of himself; who he was as a human & the foundation of all his philosophies & why he is who he is…

I’m not sure if I’m reading it wrongly…? But this seems to suggest Rolin isn’t so interested in Lestat’s origin story?

"“What are the challenges about the books going forward? Not a lot of forward-looking story. It’s a lot of looking back. Origin, origin, origin origin. And so I don’t know how many times we can tell the origin of and how exciting that is,” Jones said. “I don’t think you know, you wouldn’t want to lean on O”h, point of view. Let’s look at this in another ‘Rashomon’ way.”

How to get around that? Jones suggest they might “lean in a bit more” to the framework of Lestat becoming a rock star and telling the world his tale.

“Lestat is, for the first time a forward guy, I mean, if you embrace those opening pages, and you say, the story is about a rock star, you know, maybe that’s where we’d be leaning a little bit more about what would be surprising,” he said “And then we have the same tasks that we had the first two seasons, which is making it exciting for people who have never read the book made exciting for people who have memorized every comma of the book.”"

Mhhhhh. So they already said Nicki would be important in s3. I DO think they’ll tell the story.

But… book canonically Lestat is tells his secrets via music videos. He could tell his own story like that as well??

Wouldn’t that fit with the goal of doing Rocky Horror and Hedwig?! For me it would! And I would LOVE them doing it that way I have to say, though they better hit all the big emotional moments ^^

I don’t think he isn’t interested in telling it - he has always said that there was only ONE way to tell TVL. And now we’re hoing to get that idea he had :))))

And I feel it’s going to be musical/music videos^^

Can you imagine Louis watching those… 😈

I actually wrote a fic about that btw :)) - so I PERSONALLY would love that :))

[savagewildnerness]

"“What are the challenges about the books going forward? Not a lot of forward-looking story. It’s a lot of looking back. Origin, origin, origin origin. And so I don’t know how many times we can tell the origin of and how exciting that is,” Jones said. “I don’t think you know, you wouldn’t want to lean on O”h, point of view. Let’s look at this in another ‘Rashomon’ way.” How to get around that? Jones suggest they might “lean in a bit more” to the framework of Lestat becoming a rock star and telling the world his tale. “Lestat is, for the first time a forward guy, I mean, if you embrace those opening pages, and you say, the story is about a rock star, you know, maybe that’s where we’d be leaning a little bit more about what would be surprising,” he said “And then we have the same tasks that we had the first two seasons, which is making it exciting for people who have never read the book made exciting for people who have memorized every comma of the book.”"

Err....

I very much hope Rolin is not saying what I'm reading here... because what I'm reading is "There won't be much eighteenth century Lestat..." and that idea makes me very nervous, because:

Anne Rice's writing of this era is the absolute best

This is the era we get to truly learn who Lestat is at his core: his ideology, his childhood and early experiences and his philosophies and beliefs that will underpin all he goes on to do and be as a vampire

Seems odd too as they've mentioned Nicolas so much... but is he just going to be a footnote?

I'll stop there, as I hope I'm just overthinking things. I would personally say The Vampire Lestat isn't about a rock star at all - it is merely set up in that book, for Queen of the Damned. That said, I'm as excited as anyone for rock star Lestat... but not to the detriment of A LOT of time in Lestat's origin story.... *nervous quivering*.....

ETA: PLEASE, SOMEONE CONVINCE ME I HAVE MISUNDERSTOOD THIS!?! I AM CONCERNED....

[queenmelancholy]

Illustration by Jimmy Liao. In graphic novel The Moon Forgets. 

INTRO POST

Hi! Nice to meet you on here and thanks for stopping by :)

My blog:

Original posts about Thomas Barrow (he got me here)

Reblogs of the things I like (see lists after the break line)

Personal rambles

Me: I’m 26, from Hong Kong. INTP 5w4. In real life, I’m working towards becoming an architect (which makes me a bit tired). But part of me only ever wanted to live in a lakeside cottage surrounded by trees and spirits. So for now, I guess this is the place to unleash my inner demons every now and then. Hope you find something here that resonates with you~

My interests: Cinema, music, art, history, psychology, science, and philosophy

My languages: I can read English, traditional and simplified Chinese, and a bit of Japanese. I speak Cantonese, English, and Mandarin. I sing in Gibberish.

Other notes: My ask box is always open! I have an AO3 account under the same name: QueenMelancholy It’s ok to tag me in tag games or picrew chains XD

You can use whatever pronouns you want to call me. No DNIs here. Just remember to be kind and respectful.��

Finally, things I love that I might reblog:

Favourite films

On self

The Matrix Trilogy

Ghost in the Shell (1995)

Her

A.I. Artificial Intelligence 

Ex Machina

Memento

On ideals 

Star Wars (I-VI)

X-Men (Original Trilogy)

The Dark Knight

Cube

Dead Poets Society

The Legend of 1900 [this one holds a really special place in my heart]

On love

Cinema Paradiso

Arrival

Princess Mononoke

The Corpse Bride

Amélie

Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Favourite TV series

Downton Abbey

Breaking Bad

Succession

Dark

Black Mirror

Westworld

Fullmetal Alchemist 

Neon Genesis Evangelion

Death Note 

Favourite musicals

The Phantom of the Opera 

Les Miserables

Wicked

Notre Dame de Paris 

Favourite books

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

1984 by George Orwell

Lord of the Flies by William Golding

Angels and Demons by Dan Brown

The Stranger (L'Étranger) by Albert Camus

The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger

Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Rashomon and Other Stories by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Twilight of the Idols by Friedrich Nietzsche

Favourite characters

Thomas Barrow

Erik (The Phantom)

Credence Barebone

Anakin Skywalker

Batman & Joker

Xavier & Magneto

Favourite soundtracks

Film music collection by Ennio Morricone

“Ice Dance” by Danny Elfman

“On the Nature of Daylight” by Max Richter

“In the Mood for Love” by Shigeru Umebayashi

“Por una Cabeza” by Carlos Gardel

“Floating Museum” & "Nightstalker" by Kenji Kawai

"Palladio" by Karl Jenkins

Les Choristes OST by Bruno Coulais

Downton Abbey OST by John Lunn

Fantastic Beasts OST by James Newton Howard

Succession OST by Nicholas Britell

Favourite songs

“Piano Man” by Billy Joel 

“7 Years” by Lukas Graham

“The Impossible Dream” by Mitch Leigh

“I Want Something Just Like This” by The Chainsmokers and Coldplay 

“What’s Up” by 4 Non Blondes

“Viva Forever” by Spice Girls

“Space Oddity” by David Bowie

“Beautiful in White” by Shane Filan

“The Dark Side of the Moon” album by Pink Floyd

English songs: Coldplay, Adele, Elton John, Nick Drake

Cantopop: Eason Chan, Beyond, Tat Ming Pair, Faye Wong

French songs: Françoise Hardy

That’s it, I think. Thanks for reading this far. 

[ogradyfilm]

Recently Viewed: Ken (The Sword)

[The following review contains MAJOR SPOILERS; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!]

Kenji Misumi’s Ken (or The Sword, if you prefer translated titles) opens with an exquisitely crafted montage depicting excruciating physical exertion. The sun blazes blindingly overhead, shining more brilliantly than it did in Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon. Cold, steely eyes narrow with unwavering resolve. Beads of sweat glisten on the subject’s forehead, soaking the furrowed brow. Muscles tense with effort, so firm and taut that they threaten to tear the skin. And through it all, a bamboo sword slices the air, as rhythmic and relentless as the labored beating of a heart.

Such imagery recurs throughout the film. A later training sequence, for example, frequently cuts to disorienting POV shots as the characters do dozens, then scores, then hundreds of push-ups; the ground repeatedly rushes up to meet the camera, grit and pebbles blurring in and out of focus as perspiration drip-drip-drips onto the soil. Between sets, the exhausted athletes collapse, panting and thoroughly drenched; when they reluctantly rise to resume their monotonous, Sisyphean task, damp silhouettes of their bodies remain imprinted on the wooden planks of the dojo’s floor.

While they appear straightforward self-explanatory on the surface, these scenes are pregnant with deeper significance, elegantly conveying pretty much every one of writer Yukio Mishima’s thematic preoccupations via movement and action alone: his admiration of the human (masculine) physique, especially when it’s meticulously sculpted and/or strained to the absolute limits of fitness; his reverence for such “traditional Japanese values” as discipline, honor, and loyalty; his glorification of what I’ll charitably refer to as “youthful simple-mindedness” (a topic that he discusses in almost uncomfortably candid detail in Confessions of a Mask); and his obsession with the perverse, paradoxical overlap between violence and sex. Indeed, Misumi even addresses the subtextual—and sometimes blatantly, brazenly textual—homoeroticism that permeates the author’s work, staging an audacious bathhouse brawl that anticipates David Cronenberg’s Eastern Promises (albeit sans the graphic full-frontal nudity).

Of course, considering this is Mishima that we’re talking about—for further context, see Paul Schrader’s Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters, a sublime biopic that revolves around the controversial novelist’s very public seppuku—it’s hardly a spoiler to reveal that the movie also (somewhat regrettably) unapologetically romanticizes suicide. After the protagonist (played by Raizo Ichikawa, who personifies Mishima’s core philosophy with a cool, aloof, enigmatic stoicism) is duped into believing that he’s utterly failed in his duties as captain of his university’s kendo club, he chooses to end his life on his own terms, preserving his “purity” and “dignity” by leaving behind a corpse so angelic and radiantly beautiful that it causes spurned lovers, stern mentors, bitter rivals, and envious subordinates alike to weep tears of remorse.

Misumi’s visual style perfectly complements the melodramatic narrative. The stark black-and-white cinematography, with its deep, moody shadows, mirrors our hero’s rigid, inflexible worldview. The compositions are equally evocative: the cramped, claustrophobic framing and oppressively symmetrical blocking (which mimic the surrounding architecture) trap the characters both figuratively and literally, lending the tragic conflict a palpable atmosphere of inevitability. This bleak, somber tone distinguishes Ken as a major departure from the director’s usual fare—particularly his numerous contributions to the chanbara genre, including most of the Lone Wolf and Cub series and some of the best installments in the Zatoichi franchise—and it’s more compelling for it. Misumi was, after all, a lifelong workhorse for Daiei (alongside such esteemed contemporaries as Kazuo Mori and Kazuo Ikehiro); how delightful, then, to learn that he occasionally helmed the studio’s “prestige” projects in addition to churning out countless B-pictures.

I first discovered the existence of Ken over a decade ago, when I encountered a brief summary of its plot in the pages of critic Patrick Galloway’s essential Warring Clans, Flashing Blades, and I’ve been desperately searching for a (legal) copy ever since. I’m glad that I was able to finally experience it on the big screen—in borderline pristine 4K to boot, thanks to Janus Films’ gorgeous restoration—courtesy of MoMA. Hopefully, a home video release will follow in the near future; despite its obvious flaws, it is a story that demands multiple viewings and reevaluations.

[what-about-the-stray-cats]

Bibliography

Askew, Rie Kido. “A Literate Tiger: ‘Sangetsuki’ (Tiger-Poet) and the Tragedy of Discordance.” Japanese Studies 25, no. 2 (September 2005): 159–68. https://doi.org/10.1080/10371390500226233.

Cheng, Ching-mao. “Chinese History in the Writings of Nakajima Atsushi.” The Journal of the Association of Teachers of Japanese 8, no. 1 (1972): 45–57. https://doi.org/10.2307/489092.

“COLOR SYMBOLISM IN SCENERY DESCRIPTIONS OF RYUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA’S STORIES AND NOVELLAS.” Ulakbilge Sosyal Bilimler Dergisi 3, no. 6 (2015): 147–54. https://www.ceeol.com/search/article-detail?id=685241.

Mambrol, Nasrullah. “Analysis of Dante’s Divine Comedy.” Literary Theory and Criticism, February 20, 2021. https://literariness.org/2021/02/20/analysis-of-dantes-divine-comedy/.

Martinsen, Deborah A. “Dostoevsky’s ‘Crime and Punishment’: A Reader’s Guide.” In Dostoevsky’s “Crime and Punishment.” Academic Studies Press, 2022. https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/9781644697856/html.

Rahman, Aulia, and Fakhria Nesa. “Akutagawa Ryunosuke’s Repertoire in the Short Story ‘Rashomon.’” IZUMI 12, no. 1 (June 24, 2023): 13–21. https://doi.org/10.14710/izumi.12.1.13-21.

“Rashomon (Rashomon) by Akutagawa Ryunosuke, 1917 | Encyclopedia.Com.” Accessed December 23, 2023. https://www.encyclopedia.com/arts/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/rashomon-rashomon-akutagawa-ryunosuke-1917.

“Ryūnosuke Akutagawa.” In Wikipedia, December 4, 2023. https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Ry%C5%ABnosuke_Akutagawa&oldid=1188313788.

“Yin and Yang.” In Wikipedia, December 10, 2023. https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Yin_and_yang&oldid=1189158334.

“Yinyang (Yin-Yang) | Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy.” Accessed December 23, 2023. https://iep.utm.edu/yinyang/.

[moneflower]

A Greek Tragedy

----

A/N: Basically a drabble talking about a "war" that was significant but so vague that I almost forgot about it if it wasn’t for the new BSD season. Some character exploration of the next anatogonist: DOA.

---------

Warnings: Manga and light novel spoilers.

---------------------

In any piece of media, literally devices are no stranger for the progression of plot and/or to emphasize the stark differences between one character and the next.

From foils to paralells, they set up a character's struggle and the need to overcome it - either through means of confrontation or to plant a seed of doubt to question those beliefs.

To me, how I view Fyodor and Nikolai is like the purpose of a drug stimulant. His is to challenge people by making them step out of their comfort zone, while Nikolai's is to encourage the battle of your inner turmoil. You know, like between demons and angels.

But this all begs the question: Where does Sigma fit into this? First, I would say the name "decay of angels" is most likely to symbolize the fall of the good side, as evident in events of the cannibalism aftermath.

If anything, Sigma is probably Atusushi's moment of question, where good and evil blurs - the cruel capabilities good people can be pushed to when desperate.

Throughout this whole arc, we have characters reaching their existential crisis, namely Kunikida. As someone who goes by the rulebook, it's kind of jarring when Nikolai first shows up, and I'm not talking about his philosophy of freedom.

Like how Verline foiled Chuuya, his eccentricness challenged the limits of the poet's ideals and exceptions of rules - when do we cross the line and when can we forget what we were taught.

The decay of angels is an interesting concept in theory because not only did they happen to shift the narrative, but it seems to be questioning a bigger picture: What are abilities and their roles in society?

Events such as Dead Apple are an example of this, but like how abstract the question presents itself, the answer brings up more questions than answers.

Just what was "The Great War" and what happened to the supposedly ability users that were in the midst of this. From our current timeline, the older generation who were adults at the time were Mori, Fukuzawa, Fukuchi - the big three I'm going to focus on because of how much they influenced the plot.

In the most likely scenario, these characters could embody the varying perspectives of war. Fukuchi, the soldiers in line to experience it first hand, Mori, the cleaners: healing those fallen soldiers, and Fukuzawa, a cilivilan at home facing his own consequences of the war: famine, hunger, and population decline - all too similar to the story of Rashomon.

It wouldn’t be a too wild to speculate the surge of orphans could have come as a result of this: parents might have been dead or couldn't afford to keep them. 

Whether or not it's meant to reference history, did you know the term "great war" also refers to the first world war.

If what Fukuchi said is to be true, then I wouldn’t be too surprised if his motive consisted of revenge. It’s even more strange how in the BSD wiki page how most of the veterns are either missing or dead. 

There’s often this grey conversation of just how much does it takes to be a hero. 

Was the sacifaces worth it, did you regret any of it because that’s what our main protoganist will be facing besides the typical good vs evil. A grey morality that can be easily shifted if your justification are rightous enough. 

It’s kind of tragic to know they were just barely young adults before they were dragged into this mess, an adult’s game of poltics that ruined a future they had ahead of them. Like the cycle, it is now happening to the new generation that they can’t seem to break out of. 

‘You either die as a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villian.’

Fuichi is what you would call a tragic hero. He reminds me of Reiner from AOT when people were quick to turn on him before his perspective came out. All of a sudden he was this villianized person to someone redeemable. 

For now, he’s got what I like to call it the “Macbeth Treatment.” Someone reverd but somehow lost their way due to their own hubris or shortcoming. 

It’s scary because this could have became any’s hero fate, the fact that Dazai could or could have easily taken this path doesn’t make it all the more easy. 

We still have beast to talk about. Where Mori fits into this picture and many more, but that’s for next time. On a later post when I can gather enough brain power to write more. 

[maidenvault]

That honestly sounds so smart and makes sense. I'm definitely more of a Jedi Order defender and I do think what happened to them was ultimately and practically unpreventable (tl;dr nobody could have been prepared for Palpatine and how well he played a long game planning everything while still being good at improvising to turn any possible setback to his advantage). But I've always thought the problems with the kind of centralizing of power this is describing is basically the only major, supportable criticism of the prequel-era Jedi Order.

I just don't understand why the """pro Jedi""" crowd are so precious about the Jedi that they think not only was the fall of the Republic not their fault but they should go back to exactly how things were back then after the Empire's defeated, and any exploration of that system’s flaws is unfair. It isn't part of the basic tenets of Jedi philosophy that they should be so organized and hierarchical. It isn't part of their philosophy that they should all be based in one single temple and answer to one small council as the highest authority among them, or work so closely with the government. I feel like Yoda of all people would find abhorrent the idea that the Jedi don't always have yet more ways to grow, learn, and change.

It's simply unrealistic, anyway, to imagine that the Jedi ways have looked the same throughout history and always would - in some canon they're supposed to have once been more nomadic, solving conflicts more as individuals wandering the galaxy. For a long time the Jedi apparently were able to do the most good on a large scale with the resources allowed them by the Senate, which also meant oversight kept them from getting too powerful. It worked well for them, and helped them keep evils like slavery eradicated in the Republic, until obviously it didn't. So maybe the old ways are what makes the most sense in a post-Empire world. After all if the Force is everyone’s, shouldn’t the Jedi not only operate within certain jurisdictions? Are these not questions worth even addressing?? This fandom can be so gd fragile.

Not to mention exploring these ideas with a Rashomon story structure could be a great way to show the seductiveness of the dark side and Sith thinking, playing with the truth in a way that seems to make a good case just because the reality of doing good in a complex political landscape can be so complicated and unsatisfying. I mean there are a lot of people in this fandom who make it clear they would easily fall for the kind of bullshit manipulative half-truths Palpatine feeds Anakin lol, so at least it would be amusing watching so many people have a "Rorschach is a hero” moment over it.

what is with the hand-wringing on whether the acolyte will be “pro-jedi” enough?? still don’t get it. stories need character conflict. and if the jedi are portrayed as more flawed in this show than canon i think that’s fine! they’re not real.

[christian-dubuis-santini]

Philosophie, psychanalyse, retour de la dialectique

Dans ce flot continu des "infos" qui nous submergent tous les jours, de plus en plus, qu’est-ce qui est vrai? Et d’abord qu’est-ce que le vrai?

Pour Lacan, le but d’une analyse n’est pas d’être plus «adapté à la société», mais d’amener le sujet à se confronter aux coordonnées, antinomies et impasses de son désir, par où se trament les fils de son destin. La psychanalyse n’est pas à réduire à une méthode pour «traiter les troubles psychiques» mais d’abord une pratique qui donne une théorie à travers laquelle les trois structures de langage incorporées (psychose, névrose et perversion) ont été élevées (par Lacan) à la dignité de réponses philosophiques face aux rigueurs de l’existence, issues de l’impossible dire de la castration.

Un dire qui ne se sait pas, un savoir qui ne se dit pas.

Comme le note Lacan dans le chapitre Science de la vérité : «Aussi bien dirions-nous que la découverte de Freud est cette vérité que la vérité ne perd jamais ses droits.»

La vérité de ta souffrance est d’avoir la vérité comme cause.

La vérité touche au réel sans s’y confondre, raison pour laquelle elle ne peut que se mi-dire, c’est ce qui s’appelle: le mi-dit de la vérité (personne ne peut la dire "toute", la vérité, les mots manquent, et c’est précisément par ce manque que la vérité vise le réel sans pouvoir l’atteindre, puisque dès qu’elle l’atteint, elle perd son statut symbolique de vérité...)

Le destin de la vérité est de s’oublier.

«Réel ou vrai? Tout se pose, à ce niveau tentatif, comme si les mots étaient synonymes. L'affreux, c'est qu'ils ne le sont pas partout. À la dérive, voilà où est le vrai quand il s'agit de réel.»

(JL - L'insu que c'est de l'une-bévue s'aile à mourre)

La jouissance est de l'ordre du réel, tandis que la vérité est symbolique.

Le relativisme culturel de notre époque postmoderne (tout se vaut, chacun sa vérité, bla-bla-bla...) occulte la dimension universelle de la vérité, qui n’est pas à confondre avec le vrai, la vérité n’a pas de contraire.

Un film permet d'exemplifier ce propos: Rashomon d'Akira Kurozawa (tiré du livre éponyme).

Le plus souvent interprété de travers, ce film met en scène quatre versions du même crime par les trois protagonistes de l'action (le samuraï, sa femme, le meurtrier) auxquels s'ajoute un bûcheron, témoin oculaire du drame…

L'interprétation postmoderne du film conclut qu'“il n’y a pas de vérité” “il y a autant de vérités que de points de vue”, nourrissant ainsi le principe néo-orientalisant d’une "vérité" inaccessible, se dissipant dans la multiplicité des points de vue… (chacun son opinion, sa vérité, etc…)

À l’opposé de cet obscurantisme new-age, la position de Lacan est de réaffirmer :

1/ il y a une vérité

2/ elle ne peut pas être dite “toute” (elle est un “mi-dire”)

3/ ce “dire” est une opération qui met en cause un sujet, non un critère en soi.

La vérité de Rashomon en l'occurrence se situe dans l'écart entre chacune des versions, la vérité n'est rien d’autre que l'écart en tant que tel, ce en quoi elle "tient au réel". (Lacan: «Je dis toujours la vérité : pas toute, parce que toute la dire, on n'y arrive pas... Les mots y manquent... C'est même par cet impossible que la vérité tient au réel.»)

Lorsqu’il lisait Lacan, le philosophe Slavoj Žižek convoquait une définition psychanalytique de la perversion: celle du "déni de la dimension du sujet à proprement parler", pour opposer:

• aux philosophies qu'il qualifie de "perverses" car elles font l'apologie de l'individu compris comme un être corporel, vivant, allant de soi, dans un "monde" conçu comme le lieu "naturel" de son inscription (un monde dans lequel il se confronte à des rapports avec les autres)…

• la philosophie de l'hystérique, la "vraie philosophie" inaugurée par Socrate, dont la caractéristique principale est de partir d'emblée d'un sujet travaillé intérieurement par son «manque-à-être», un sujet divisé par la question de savoir:

1/ ce qu'il est pour le désir de l'Autre et

2/ ce que l'Autre voudrait de lui ;

un sujet véritablement sujet, assujetti donc, ne pouvant se concevoir a priori que dans le retrait subjectif, une radicale extériorité par rapport à la prétendue "réalité objective".

Ainsi, l’homme, l’être, l’individu, la personne, le dasein, le sujet… ce sont des mots qui chacun définissent un certain horizon de sens. Et de non-sens.

•Dans la tradition philosophique pré-lacanienne, ce qui s’appelle sujet (cf. L’herméneutique du sujet de Michel Foucault) n’est pas en soi sexualisé, la "sexualisation" c’est quelque chose qui se passe au niveau empirique, contingent, pour cette pensée, il y aurait ainsi d’abord un sujet, et ensuite interviendrait sa sexualisation…

•Dans la théorie psychanalytique, c’est l’inverse, c’est la sexuation (la coupure) qui est la condition formelle a priori de la constitution d’un sujet, raison (entre autres) pour laquelle le sujet de l’inconscient, le sujet de la psychanalyse, est toujours a priori un sujet divisé, un sujet clivé, un sujet barré, inconsistant, qui se note $. Le $ujet est donc tout le contraire d'un individu, puisque l'indivision est le contraire de la division.

Le sujet de l'inconscient, qui n'est autre que le sujet du Cogito cartésien, comme l'a démontré Lacan, est rigoureusement exogène à l'univers des statistiques (et n'a rien à voir non plus avec les élucubrations universitaires pseudo-égalitaristes abstraites des Gender Studies...)

Le sujet de l'inconscient ne parle pas "directement", ça parle de "lui" dans le strict cadre d'un énoncé produit d’une énonciation, et c'est seulement par là qu'il s'appréhende, notamment par un psychanalyste disposé à l'entendre...

La dialectique consiste à voir le point commun dans ce qui constitue à priori les oppositions dans leur apparence inconciliable.

Dans le cas du jugement, par exemple qu’est-ce que vrai?, nous avons toujours affaire à:

- le premier temps qui est celui du jugement dit "dogmatique": ce qui est vrai, c’est ce que je reconnais déjà comme vrai, que je trouve vrai (thèse)

- dans un deuxième temps, je me rends compte que c’est la culture spécifique du sujet qui prédétermine ce qui est vrai pour lui, et j’en arrive donc au jugement sceptique qui aboutit au relativisme culturel: tout se vaut, il n’y a pas de vrai en soi, chacun sa vérité...

- le troisième temps permet de poser le problème de manière différente, le jugement dialectique (synthèse) permet de saisir le point commun entre les deux temps précédents: dans les deux cas, le vrai semble dépendre de quelque chose d’externe, or si je reconnais le vrai, ce n’est pas dans l’objet extérieur qu’il s’agit de chercher les critères décisifs du vrai, mais chez le sujet lui-même.

Il y a deux sortes de vérité, la vérité des faits et la vérité du désir. Or la vérité des faits s’énonce toujours en fonction du désir de qui rapporte les faits.

S’il y a reconnaissance (du vrai) c’est qu’il y aura eu désir (subversion du sujet et dialectique du désir), si j’ai du plaisir à boire, c’est que j’aurai eu soif, le plaisir de boire présuppose la soif (sauf pour les boit-sans-soif...) car nous dit Spinoza, nous ne désirons pas les choses parce qu’elles sont bonnes mais nous trouvons les choses bonnes parce que nous les désirons.

La synthèse au plan dialectique intègre donc les deux propositions qui précèdent (thèse et antithèse) et reprend la position de l’antithèse mais en lui faisant faire un pas de plus, le pas décisif, qui consiste à réintégrer le sujet de l’énonciation dans son énoncé.

Le problème s’en trouve déplacé et ne se pose plus de la même manière, la question ne peut plus être «qu’est-ce qui est vrai?» mais: «qu’est-ce que, toi, tu appelles vrai?»

C’est la manière de questionner propre à Socrate qui fait passer la question du plan objectif «qu’est ce qu’une chose?» au plan du sujet «qu’appelles-tu, toi, cette chose?», rappelant que ce sont toujours à des mots que nous avons affaire a priori, et que chaque sujet est unique dans sa singularité absolue.

Voilà pourquoi Lacan considère Socrate comme le premier psychanalyste («l’hystérie géniale de Socrate») et Hegel, qui a remis la dialectique au cœur de la logique comme: «le plus sublime des hystériques».

[letterboxd]

Life in Film: Michael Tyburski.

The Sound of Silence director Michael Tyburski shares some insights into the making of his debut feature, and answers our new “life in film” questionnaire.

In The Sound of Silence, Peter Sarsgaard is Peter Lucian, a house tuner in New York City who believes that the notes emitted from a household’s appliances must harmonize in order to bring peace to its residents. However, his state of mind collapses when he struggles to apply his methods for a new client, Ellen (Rashida Jones).

Directed by Michael Tyburski and based on a short film he made with co-writer Ben Nabors in 2013, The Sound of Silence debuted at the Sundance Film Festival and stood out for its “remarkably silly” unique premise and strong performance from Sarsgaard. Fans of ASMR, get your headphones out; the film’s sound design will trigger those sensations.

The Sound of Silence started life as your short film Palimpsest. Is the ‘house tuner’ occupation at all based in reality? Michael Tyburski: The short answer is no, it’s a fictional profession. The character idea is something that my co-writer Ben Nabors brought to me. Right away, I loved the idea of a practise where someone shows up at your door and offers you a solution to the emotional problems that you’re having.

A lot of alternative therapies exist in New York City so it didn’t seem so far from reality that people would take someone intellectual, dressed well in a tweed blazer, with professional-looking tools, seriously. I really liked that as a conceit. We tried to base it in real science and looked at sound engineers and acousticians for what tools they would use. We tried to make it exist in a very real New York City; that’s why we have touchstones like the character being profiled in The New Yorker.

How has your research into music theory affected your own domestic space? Actually, I moved, for the first time in ten years—after living on a pretty noisy commercial street—during the course of developing and making this movie. Somehow, during the edit, I made my first apartment move within New York City, to a much quieter street. I also took a cue from the main character, Peter Lucian, because I moved my office below my apartment, in a subterranean space. At least I can control the sound a little bit more now that I’m cut off from the surface level, similar to the way Peter does it in his “fallout shelter”.

Michael Tyburski and Peter Sarsgaard on the set of The Sound of Silence. / Photo: James Chororos

The character Peter Lucian feels like a perfect fit for Peter Sarsgaard. When did you have him in mind? He was my first pick. I knew I wanted him from the beginning when I first started thinking about who would be the perfect house tuner. I feel so lucky to have him and fortunately the script resonated with him right away. He’s someone who’s very musically inclined and he plays a number of musical instruments. I was so gratified that he connected to the part so closely.

He’s such a chameleon of an actor. He can play a lot of dark roles, but also he has a very scientist-like intellect. I also think he has one of the best voices, it’s very unique and I enjoy hearing him. So for a movie about sound, it kind of seemed fitting that someone with those types of qualities would work for the role.

What was important to you about keeping Peter’s house-tuning technology analog instead of digital? I think he’s just someone who has the philosophy of “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it”. Even though his tools are a little more dated, they’re still as effective. They might not be as efficient as digital technology so he’s a little slower, but they still work. There is at least one sound engineer in New York City who we found in our research who measures the sound in rooms, and there’s one thing called a spectrum analyzer that we use in the film that we completely got from this guy’s tool bag.

Director Michael Tyburski.

The film is carefully crafted and you have Peter obsessing over every inch of New York City. What degree of obsession did you have in the making of the film? I’m pretty obsessive as an individual in general. I like to be very organized and have everything mapped out. We had been developing the screenplay for so many years that I got tired of reading it, so before we made the movie, the first thing I did after Peter came on board was sit down and record the entire script in audio format. I kind of had this radio edit of the movie. That transitioned into a rough animatic of the film that I put into the timeline and I was able to add in location references, tonal reference photos, dialogue in different room tones, and then music.

Logistics-wise, we only had 21 days to shoot the movie which is very conservative especially because we had a lot of ground to cover, but I just needed to be as efficient as possible, so it was helpful to have that thorough, animatic tool.

With all the technical departments it was a very close collaboration and I like to be very involved in all details. For the sound design, I wanted to re-record all of the tuning forks, which were kind of an aural motif through the film. When you’re shooting in the elements, you don’t always have the control over the environment, so I hand-recorded each one of the tuning forks myself. We were aiming for that level of precision.

We’d like to ask a few questions about your life in film. What was the film that made you want to become a filmmaker? My choice is probably not that unique but when I was 13, maybe a little too young, I got a VHS copy of Pulp Fiction. That stunned me and took me from A to B. It shook up how I thought contemporary American stories could be told.

Which film do you think is the best love letter to New York? Annie Hall, closely tied with Midnight Cowboy. I suppose I love that era of New York.

Which film has the greatest sound design work of all time? There’s a lot, but one of my favorites is Play Time.

Nice choice. Greatest production design of all-time too. Yeah, not bad. I used a few frames for my look book.

Jacques Tati’s ‘PlayTime’ (1967).

Which is the most overlooked performance from Peter Sarsgaard? I loved him in Experimenter, which I think is an underrated film. More recently too, Errol Morris’s Wormwood. I don’t know how many people went down that rabbit hole because it was long, but I think he was so good in it.

What films did you watch to prepare you for The Sound of Silence? There were three that we were looking at, for a lot of different reasons. We watched Jonathan Glazer’s Birth for the mood and that fairytale vibe it has in a mysterious, alternate New York City.

Being John Malkovich for its bizarro version of science, and I love the naturalistic quality to that film. And obviously The Conversation for its production design and how it follows a man obsessed with sound.

This is a nicely-timed, autumnal, gentle film. What films give you those peaceful autumn vibes? My favorite is Hannah and Her Sisters.

What mindfuck movie changed you for life? I’ll have a couple Kubrick on this list, but for this probably A Clockwork Orange.

It’s Halloween next month. What movie do you watch every Halloween? The Shining! There’s my next Kubrick.

As a teenager, what film character felt like a total mirror to what you were feeling at the time? One of my favorite coming-of-age films is Harold and Maude. I definitely identified with Harold.

What’s your go-to comfort movie? And how many times do you think you’ve seen it? My favorite film of all time, which I promise will be my last Kubrick, is Barry Lyndon. I think it’s just a perfect movie and I’ve certainly seen it dozens of times. I think it does everything I want in a movie. I don’t even know what genre to call it because it’s funny, it’s dramatic, it’s an epic. I love the idea of doing a perfect epic movie that covers a lot of ground.

Stanley Kubrick’s ‘Barry Lyndon’ (1975).

What film do you have fond memories of watching with your parents? We were a big Chevy Chase household and National Lampoon’s Vacation holds up as a fine movie.

What’s a classic you could just not get into? Maybe Brazil. Admittedly I think I need to rewatch it because I first saw it when I was 14 or 15 and I just didn’t quite get it at the time.

What classic are you embarrassed to say you haven’t seen? Two Kurosawa films; Rashomon and Seven Samurai. They’re always on my list to brush up and they seem to come up in conversation more and more.

Which movie scene makes you cry the most? Definitely the holiday classic It’s A Wonderful Life.

What film was your entry point into non-English language cinema? That was a good one, I like that question. I remember when I was in my freshman year of high school I was given two VHS copies from someone who knew I was getting into film. One of those films was Persona, but then the other one, which I knew I watched first, was a film called Woman in the Dunes.

What filmmaker��living or dead—do you envy the most? If Kubrick, go for living… If it’s Kubrick go for living? Oh my gosh.

I feel like you’re going to say Kubrick. Yeah. Envy is a funny word. Kubrick has an admirable career for the depth of his filmography. You know, like a lot of film nerds I’m a huge Paul Thomas Anderson fan.

Christopher Nolan’s ‘The Prestige’ (2006).

What’s a film that you wish you made? I would love to make a movie about magic but ever since I saw The Prestige I think it would be hard to compete with that. That period, that Victorian era of illusion, I don’t know if you can top that.

It’s time for best-of-decade lists. What’s the greatest film of the 2010s? If we went back even further it would be easier. For the last 10 years, I think Phantom Thread is pretty great.

‘The Sound of Silence’ was released on September 13 by IFC Films and is in select cinemas now.

[cello-moon]

Oh Mash, most darling and adorable kohai. I've been sitting on this since you said it and we're about to have some words. I think we've had enough time to process Solomon and the whole you have a normal human lifespan thing and it's time to chat philosophy.

I will absolutely deny that if death is certain, then life is meaningless. That's a garbage stance to live by and I have a hard time believing you actually mean that. I mean, we've been together through this whole amazing journey that absolutely proved that even if death is inevitable and we can't truly save anyone from their fate, life and the fight is worth it. Did you learn nothing from Gilgamesh and the citizens of Babylonia? Their cheer and industriousness even in the face of certain doom, when their King had proclaimed that there would be no survivors, they decided to stay and fight regardless.

Memento mori is a cry to beauty, glory, and worth! Not a funeral dirge!

That death is certain makes life all the more meaningful! All the more beautiful! We sat, in beautiful, enjoyably tipsiness and watched the cherry blossoms fall during Rashomon - did you miss their meaning and lesson?

I will die someday. Maybe someday soon, maybe someday in the far off future. Death is one of life's inevitabilities. Do you think that means I should lay down and just wait for it? Do you think everything we've done, all the adventures, the harsh days and long nights, do you think all of that wasn't worth doing? That it was all meaningless? Would it have been better for us both if I had not taken your hand that day, as you lay bleeding before our initial rayshift to Fuyuki? If we had both perished in the flames before any of this grand adventure happened? Do you regret our wild and determined efforts to prevent the incineration of humanity? I couldn't have done it without you.

Life is what we make of it. Meaningful, meaningless? It was once said, "Whether you think you can, or you think you can't, you're right." (Henry Ford) It's all in what you earnestly believe. If you believe that your life is meaningless, how will you ever build anything meaningful?

Humans need to believe in our own meaningfulness, in our own self-worth, in our ability to, hand-in-hand, working together, build a better, brighter future. Even if you say that it's meaningless, a mere illusion, a false fantasy of worth and valor in the face of nothingness, it's worth maintaining that illusion. A very kind man once wrote, "Humans need fantasies to be human ... You have to start out learning the little lies ... so we can believe the big ones ... Justice, Duty, Mercy, that sort of thing." (Terry Pratchett)

Even if it's all a lie, even if it's all meaningless, it's worth my life to believe wholeheartedly in that lie, otherwise what's even the point!?!? Death's certainty is what gives life meaning! To see what we can accomplish in our infinitesimally tiny lives! Even if we can't zoom out and see the grand tapestry of all of human history, made of all our tiny sparkling thread-lives, we know it's there. I know it's there, and it's beautiful and pull any thread out before it's completion and the whole section will snarl and snag. That's what we've been working to protect this entire time. And I'll never be convinced that our efforts, strife, and quest were meaningless.

Life is what you make of it - it's the experiences that make your heart sing, and the friends you meet and make along the way. It's the love in your heart and the will to bandage up your wounds and heal. It's the song your soul cries out when you see a beautiful sunrise and the dreams you carry under your heart.

Life is absolutely not meaningless. That it ends is what ensure it cannot be so.

[jushirosuggestions]

Oh, no - no, never! I was very attentive and dedicated! I did pass out occasionally, of course, but that’s not quite the same thing...!

Now, if I recall, the prop team did thank me for my contributions! Unlike someone else... who they had to tell time and time again to please, please, stop showering the onstage crime scene with flower petals... even if it did make things more dramatic... now, who was that again...?

Are you alive?

Yes, of course!

…

Why… wouldn’t I be, Anon-san…?

[pomegranate-salad]

Pom’s Summer reads (as she was stuck in the hospital)

Hey guys ! Sorry I haven’t been around in a while. The reason is… I was back in the psych ward. Mental health is no fun. But this time around, I was so bored out of my mind that I actually took a look at the scarcely furnished, yet surprisingly eclectic hospital library. Which consisted of two shelves of donated books in various states of decay. But since beggars can’t be choosers, I went and started reading randomly selected books from this motley collection. And I thought it would be fun to make a reading list out of it to share my findings. I have terrible ideas.

 So, here’s what I read over the last two weeks :

- Mythologies by Roland Barthes

Genre : Essay – Philosophy

Length : average

Available in English : partially

 I had only read excerpts of this staple of cultural criticism before, so I thought it was high time I read the whole thing. This takes a look to the making of modern myths from a Marxist perspective, finding meaning in items as deceptively trivial as laundry detergent and haircuts in movies. This book consists of a first part made of a series of small commentaries, and a second part that takes a deeper look into the mechanisms and power of myth making. Some of the essays of the first part are not included in the English version of this book, presumably because the references studied were too “French” to speak to foreign readers. The references as a whole have aged (I had to google quite a few things, even as a French reader) but it speaks to the quality of the commentary that the thoughts expressed in this book are still relevant to our modern culture. You can probably find one of its most famous bits online, an essay about wrestling and the theatrical culture it illustrates.

This is an important and interesting book, but one that’s maybe a bit arid to read cover to cover : I found picking it up at intervals to read one essay or two was the best way to enjoy this book. You can of course also check out Barthes’ highly influential essay on the Death of the Author, but I also enjoyed his lesser-known essay The pleasure of the Text and his collection of Critical essays.

 - The Sand Child by Tahar Ben Jelloun

Genre : Novel

Length : average

Available in English : Yes

Content warning : explicit sexual content

 This was a weird, weird but pretty amazing one. Assuredly the best surprise of the lot. This starts off as a straightforward tale of a girl raised as a boy by a traditionalist father in modern Morocco as told by a storyteller on a marketplace, but it quickly devolves into several levels of metatextuality and dreamlike elements until story, characters and storyteller are interweaved into a reflexion about the nature of stories itself.

Aptly enough, this reminded most of Sandman, but also of Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon, both excellent things of which to remind someone. This is also the rare reflexion on gender roles and identity within the context of Islamic culture. But most of all, this is all written with a unique style, as if the author was drunk on language ; it’s a bit hard to get into, but it’s also captivating at the same time. Of all the books in this list, this is the one I would reread again and again just to try and understand all its levels. If you like this kind of surreal literature, definitely check this one out.

  - Oyster by John Biguenet

Genre : Novel

Length : average to long

Content warning : mild violence

 This was a frustrating one. It’s not a great book, yet it could have been one. This is yet another story of rivalry, secrets and revenge between two poor white families, this time living from oyster farming in Louisiana in the late fifties. The plot is fairly standard, and narrated in such a way that it constantly gets in the way of its dramatic potential. The writing is I think the problem here, especially around dialogue and plot progression, making the whole thing feel flat. Which is a shame because when the book lingers on details of the life of poor oyster farmers, it can be remarkably evocative.

This is the kind of book I want to put in a shaker and shake to put each element back where it belongs. I’m not difficult when it comes to Southern Gothic : I will basically read anything as long as it reminds me even a little bit of William Faulkner and Tennessee Williams. So it was frustrating to see this one being able to conjure its own atmosphere while not sticking the landing with its story. If you know of any good modern Southern Gothic novels, please send them my way, I’m hungry.

  - The ghost in the Noonday sun by Sid Fleischman

Genre : Novel

Length : short

 I have no idea how much of a staple of children’s literature this book is, so maybe all of you are already familiar with it. Personally, I hadn’t read it in quite a while since the version we have at home is now missing some key pages. But if by chance you haven’t read this, please go invest an hour of your life into reading this funny, witty and earnest pirate story about a teenager who gets kidnapped by a superstitious pirate who believes he’s able to see ghosts in order to locate the treasure of his old captain who was buried with it.

In a just world, there’d be a cult movie based on this book instead of one of dubious quality staring an erratic Peter Sellers. This is children’s literature of the best kind : one that takes its audience seriously, is able to create an atmosphere and is still a fun to reread as an adult. This was kind of super-nostalgic to me to pick this one, but I couldn’t resist.

  - The Awkward Squad by Sophie H��naff (and its sequel Stick together)

Genre : Novel – Crime

Length : average

Available in English : Yes

 I had to have read at least one crime novel in this lot, but in the end I only read two, since the other options were Mary Higgins Clark books and since I have a grandmother, I had already read those. It’s a shame that French crime novels don’t have as much of an international reputation as Scandinavian or American ones, since we do have an interesting tradition of our own : books mainly based on ensemble casts of motley characters, with a poetic streak and a sensitivity to absurdism. The premise of this series is that in order to get better statistics, the new policer commissioner has decided to regroup all undesirable police officers they can’t fire in one single squad, and make sure this lame duck unit doesn’t attract any attention. But some people from this unit have of course decided otherwise.

These books held pretty well as far as crime novels go, they are a lot of fun at times and read easily. The character work and dialogue are definitely this series’ best asset, as it is the case with many French crime books. If you want the best the genre has to offer, check out my all-time favourite, the Adamsberg series from author Fred Vargas, in order : The Chalk Circle Man, Seeking whom he may devour, Have mercy on us all, and Wash this Blood clean from my Hand.

  - The Three-Arched Bridge by Ismail Kadaré

Genre : Novel

Length : short

Available in English : Yes

 This was hardly a surprise that I loved this one : I’ve been a fan of Kadaré for a while. This is yet another of his books that explores the frontiers of reality and legend, superstition and magic within a fascinating historical context. Here, his subject is the building of a bridge in Albania toward the end of the 14th century, as the Turkish invasion is looming. The narrator, a monk, relates both political and mundane events surrounding the isolated region, as increasingly troubling phenomenon surround the construction site, announcing the troubled future of the country.

I do love my historical/supernatural novels, and Kadaré is a master of the genre. This reads easily while making a lasting impression and leaving you hungry for more. If you do, I can’t recommend enough checking out more of Kadaré’s work, his classic The General of the Dead Army, and my personal favourites The Pyramid and The Ghost Rider.

 - The Pursuit of Happiness by Douglas Kennedy

Genre : Novel

Length : long

 I picked this one deep in my “I’m fucking sick of reading, but there’s still nothing else to do” phase, since I needed something that would be easy to read and at least somewhat good, and old Douglas did not disappoint : this book might be almost 800 pages long, it reads in a dedicated handful of hours. This is primarily the story of two women, one who just lost her mother and the other who appears in her life after the funeral, apparently knowing a lot about her family, to give her a manuscript retracing her story. The portrayal of the main characters is realistic, both are flawed individuals with distinct stories and personalities, so cheers to that.

This is the kind of familial saga-that’s-also-a-reflexion-on-destiny-and-the-American-dream you never get tired of until you do. Don’t let my snide deter you though : this is a very good book, maybe just not singular enough for its genre. If you’re looking for something more particular, you can of course check out Steinbeck’s East of Eden, the metric by which all American familial sagas are judged, and Roth’s American Pastoral, which contrary to what you may have heard, is a weird goddamn book.

 - Allah is not obliged by Ahmadou Kourouma

Genre : Novel

Length : average

Available in English : Yes

Content warning : extremely disturbing and graphic description of atrocities in wartime

 A first-person description of tribal wars in Liberia and Sierra Leone during the nineties from the point of view of a fictitious child soldier. It doesn’t pretend to stick by its premise though, and dives into detailed record of the political climate, all while taking us through the daily horrors of life in war-torn countries. The extremely down-to-earth and downright crude descriptions are interweaved with magic realism rooted in West African voodoo and culture.

This one was one of my favourites, despite the writing and narrative bordering on gimmicky at times ; especially at the end, where the story seems to have exhausted itself and seems more interested in recounting the political history of the region. The subject in and of itself is fascinating (and this is a great read if you’re not familiar with it) but sorts of impinges on the main storyline and the development of its characters.

Despite its flaws, I can only recommend this book, especially if you’re looking to delve into West African literature as this makes for a good introduction to the genre. Be aware however that this book is extremely hard to stomach and triggering in about every way possible. If you do like it, I recommend checking out my favourite book by this author, Waiting for the Wild Beasts to vote.

 - Hymns of Hate by Dorothy Parker

Genre : Poetry

Length : short

 I have a complicated relationship with poetry : as in, I am fond of it and some poetry books have come to mean a lot in my life, yet for some reason I never seem to be in the mood for picking one. So the reason this chapbook got picked is probably that your brain functions differently when the world around you is an ocean of noise and agitation due to a little event called the World Cup. Yes, even at the hospital, the French victory was dutifully celebrated, so this was the best time to isolate yourself with some earplugs and a poetry book.

Dorothy Parker is an acerbic poetess from the twenties who takes a comical and critical look at society, which leads to what I’d call comedy roast as poetry. It’s not the most moving kind of poetry, but it will make you laugh and reflect on yourself a bit, as I can guarantee you’ll recognize yourself in at least some of the vivid portraits this book draws. Of course, since I read it in French, it probably lost a lot of its musicality, which is the eternal dilemma when it comes to poetry : would I rather have something be lost in translation, or in reading in your non-native language ?

This kind of impertinent poetry, even if it doesn’t get as much press as big romantic oeuvres, is still a breath of fresh air that puts a smile on your face while still giving you an insight into the author’s personality. The only poet I can think of that produced the same effect on me is Jacques Prévert. I highly recommend checking out his two chapbooks Paroles and Stories.

- Six characters in search of an author by Luigi Pirandello

Genre : Play

Length : short

Available in English : Yes

 So before you say anything, I didn’t know he was a fascist before I picked this one. But you do now, so feel free not to read this one as a matter of principle. That being said, this is a very good play. This is the kind of hyper-conceptual play that interrogates the relationship between characters, writer and comedians. The story is exactly what it says in the title : six characters imagined by an author but who never got their play written tumble into a theatre as actors are repeating a play and ask them to write their play.

This play has stage directions for days and is a little bit hard to get a sense of when you read it instead of seeing it, yet once you get how the whole thing works, the ideas expressed are extremely interesting. This reminded me of Ionesco’s works, particularly The bald Soprano and the criminally underrated The Chairs. The theme of characters escaping the grasp of their authors can also be found in Paul Auster’s Man in the Dark which, while by no means one of the author’s best works, is still a fun and meditative read so don’t hesitate to check it out.

  - What money can’t buy, the moral limits of markets by Michael J. Sandel

Genre : Essay – Economy

Length : average

 I picked this one primarily because it was the only one in English, and also because I like to periodically remind myself why I left business school. I ended up having a good time reading it, because it’s more about thinking the market than explaining it. This book discusses the things that money can buy today – cutting in line, naming rights, stakes on someone’s life – and whether we should be alarmed of this growing market mentality. In the true tradition of English essays, this book makes its thesis clear at the beginning and then reiterates its point through examples. This is completely different from the French tradition of essays, which starts at the observable phenomenon and then takes us to its core thesis through organic reasoning. This means that past the introduction, you’ll know what this book is trying to prove, and the rest of the book is more about illustrating the demonstration. However, each set of examples come with their own ethical and practical problems, and you end up being more conflicted than you originally thought. A fiery onslaught against capitalism it is not, but this has the advantage of considering market mentality from the inside and then wondering how it looks from the outside. If nothing else, it should give you a good set of arguments to shut up libertarians and their ilk.

  So that’s all I have today. Do tell me if you want me to make more reading lists like this !

[saran-bar]

'Seven Samurai'

Seven Samurai was a very intense and immersing experience. The film's very long length is justified by the character developments, the philosophy it explores, and the beautiful cinematography.

Having just seen 'Rashomon', I see many parallels between the two films, especially with them both being period films and with some of the same actors. Kurosawa beautifully uses characters with strong senses of self, pride, and purpose to put into question what humanity is all about, what morals is, and who is truly good and who isn't.

We are first introduced to the farmers as the victims of the situation. They are the good people trying to make a living for themselves and their products are being stolen, their families killed or kidnapped. However, halfway through the film Kikuchiyo finds that the farmers had samurai swords and equipment. The samurai are upset as this means the farmers must have killed other samurai to acquire these items. Kikuchiyo gets fired up and asks them whose fault it is that the farmers had to go and kill the samurai, when they had no choice but to become victims in wars, have their family torn apart and houses burned. We are now put in a situation where neither the samurai nor the farmers are completely innocent of any wrongdoings. However, there are the ‘bandits’, who are completely evil, and thus the flawed samurai and farmers remain the good guys. The bad things they have done were done only because they had to do so for their survival.

When the enemy is barely shown or given any characterization throughout the story, it is easy for the audience to root for the protagonist’s side and not empathize with the villain in any way. But the very last sentence of the film challenges this notion. Kambei Shimada says "In the end, we lost this battle too... the victory belongs to those peasants," with the camera slowly panning up to the cemetery of all the fallen samurai. This was the most impactful ending I've seen in a while, leaving me questioning everything that had happened throughout the entire film. The samurai decided to come fight for the farmers with pride and grace in good hearts, yet all they were left with were lost, disappointment, and despair.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that there is no point in being a good person and trying to put others’ needs before you, as we see many incredible character developments for the ones that do exactly this. Kikuchiyo gives the farmers the life he never had and proves his worth through his sacrifice.

Were the bandits absolutely evil? I would still think so, but the argument I believe Kurosawa is trying to make here is that humans are all looking for themselves. Being kind and compassionate isn’t Shimada and the samurai’s fault in any way, but perhaps the world is too cruel to reward them for their good deeds. In contrast to what Shimada had been teaching his men throughout the film, looking out for others isn’t always going to help you survive.

[comm261-blog-spencerowens-blog]

Blog post 2

Spencer Owens

Global Cinema

Prof. Delnero 

3/26/2021

Rashomon by Akira Kurosawa

Rashomon is a film seeking to find the value in the truth. The film is seeking to find true events of a crime. Throughout the film we have three character depictions of a crime. The crime was the murder of Masayuki Mori, a nobleman. The film opens with a broken down city where we find three men debating the philosophies of the world. They talk about goodness, the truth, and sin. The three men are: a priest, a commoner, and a woodcutter. They soon start debating over the validity of the crime of the nobleman. We then see flashbacks of each person's story regarding the crime. There’s three main characters in this trial. There’s also three main story’s: the bandits, the nobleman’s(the samurai), and the Samurai’s wife. Each story of the crime isn't the same. In the Bandits depiction he says he tricked the samurai and tied him up. The bandit then rapes the samurai's wife and says that she “gave in” to him. After this, the wife pleaded to the bandit that the men must duel because two people cannot know of her ”dishonor”. The bandit then says he triumphantly defeated the samurai in combat, making the council believe that he is a strong individual. The wife’s story is vastly different. In this version the samurai is still tied up and the wife is still raped. The difference is that the wife says the bandit leaves her after raping her and she begs her husband to kill her because of the “shame”, but the husband refuses to answer her in disgust. It is eluded that she then murders her husband herself. After that we get the nobleman’s story. In the film they show his spirit entering a woman as she tells his story. The nobleman says that the bandit pleaded to the wife to run away with him after raping her. The nobleman then says that his wife agreed and asked the bandit to kill the husband. The bandit doesn’t kill him though, the samurai ends up killing himself because of the shame. 

This film is interesting in the fact that we have no clue how to perceive the truth. That truth is a creation of perspective. It comes later in the film that each of their stories is created in order to protect the pride of the storyteller. The film is making an observation of reality. Does one truly understand the whole truth of any specific situation? 

A scene I’d like to discuss is the ending of the film. In the end when all the cards are on the table. All of our beliefs in humanity are questioned.  We hear a child in the background. The film is always dark. Light always struggles to move past the thickly settled forest. In this scene the commoner begins stealing from the child. The woodcutter and the priest confront the man. The commoner believes there to be no difference if he stole from the child or not. The commoner then leaves and the priest takes the child. The woodcutter pleads to the priest that he too can protect the child. Even though his character was questioned during the events of the crime he promises that he can take care of the child because he has many children of his own. In this moment of humanity, light begins to shine. What I’m saying is that this film was surrounded by darkness and bleakness. That there was no hope in humanity or the truth. But in the end we still need to protect the innocent. The child represents an unbiased character and viewer. A symbol of innocence that provides hope to do better in the world and for humanity.

Good video regarding Rashomon below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3UlrkZSfhBg

If you look an article written on topic.com, by Wesley Morris, he tackles the theme of truth. In the article Wesley says, “Some of the thrill of the Rashomon experience was being told that you can’t trust anyone. The original audience liked seeing a film break the rules.” I totally agree with what Wesley says here. It was a breath of fresh air watching this film as it tackles the validity of someone's story. I also loved the fact that none of the characters were a hundred percent believable, because they were all shielding their pride. You can find this article below. 

https://www.topic.com/rashomon-and-the-problem-with-truth

On the website Philosophy Now, they continue our conversation about the themes of the film. In the article they state, “ The context of a horrific crime makes the reflections on the nature of ‘truth’ more than merely an academic pursuit. Add to this the tenderness shown to an abandoned baby at the end of the film (to say more would be a spoiler!), and this film covers all aspects of the human condition.” I agree that the ending of the film adds a hopeful future for humanity. I loved that the film confronts the viewers preconceived notions regarding the truth. 

You can find the article here, 

 https://philosophynow.org/issues/127/Rashomon