orbific weblog

One thing I love about Brighton is how many things there are to do.  I've been out to three very different nights this week and had a great time at each:

• On Tuesday flashbrighton hosted a showing of Sita Sings the Blues.  The film was as good as I hoped, a series of overlaid retellings of a traditional Indian story, the Ramayana.  It's remarkable that such an inventive and well-produced work is freely distributed.  The folks at flashbrighton were lovely and I wished for the first time that I was a flash coder.  Thanks!
• Wednesday Waterstone's hosted a reading by Vanessa Gebbie and Alison MacLeod.  Vanessa read a fantastic story from her new collection, which is apparently going to have two fronts like the old Ace Doubles, one side funny and the other more serious.  It was lovely to hear Alison's reading, an extract from a story about the Ikea riot which persuaded me to give the collection a try.  Vanessa's account of the evening is here.
• Last night was Hammer&Tongue.  Abi Curtis was the local poet, reading some fantastic pieces from her forthcoming Salt collection.  Also appearing was Spliff Richards. It was the longest set I'd seen from him and very impressive.  His work is intricate and uplifting with an incredible delivery.  There was also a great atmosphere, which made it worth the late night.

I'm also very happy because of my run yesterday.  I didn't have much time and ended up running faster than usual, cutting over a minute off my best time for 4 miles.  I've definitely got my speed back.  At the weekend I'll find out if I have the endurance for the marathon.

One of my favourite books is American Psycho.  The constant bored tone Ellis uses is stunning.  I've never seen fiction handle boredom and disconnection so well.  When the film came out I decided not to watch it.  I couldn't see a movie replicating the things I admired about the book.  The requirements of a Hollywood movie would sensationalise a book I loved for its lack of sensationalism.  I didn't want this  completely different work to alter the way I thought of a novel I liked.

I feel the same way about Watchmen.  I love the book.  I remember arguing for hours with friends about which characters were the most moral, who was 'right'.  Then I watched the first trailer and heard Rorscach's voice.  In my mind Rorscach speaks in a weasely voice, closer to his secret identity than the figure he cuts in costume.  In the clip I saw he sounded more like the trailer-man.

I love the novel Watchmen.  I love the way it's paced, the speed at which it unfold when I read it.  I love the details in the background, the detours the story takes.  Like Alan Moore I can't see these things working in a movie.

A couple of links from LinkMachineGo sum up two other reasons I don't want to see the film: the tacky associated merchandise ("we're society's only protection"?) and that it's not likely to be a good adaptation.

I hope everyone enjoys the film, it's just not for me.

One of the most useful things I learned on my masters was the importance of citation.  It's not enough to provide a fact: you need to be show where it came from. 

I once spent a few hours in the University library tracing William Burrough's assertion that Tristan Tzara caused a riot by performing random poetry on stage. I'd seen the fact quoted in various places but ended up fairly sure it was an exaggeration on Burrough's part (as unlikely as that sounds).  By a process of repetition the story had gained an academic credence.

Another important thing I learned was to be suspicious of common sense.  If 'everyone knows' something it's worth figuring out where that belief comes from and what its limits are.

David Aaronovitch has written a brilliant article in the Times investigating the statistic that we are caught on CCTV 300 times a day.  It's a fantastic demonstration of how 'everyone' can come to know something.  (via As Above)

Back in December Roger Ebert raved on his blog about an obscure movie called Sita Sings the Blues on his blog.  The movie is described as "An animated version of the epic Indian tale of Ramayana set to the 1920's jazz vocals of Annette Hanshaw".  Reading Ebert's description I decided I had to see this film.  But the article ends on a sad note:  "the songs Annette Hanshaw sings (composed and recorded in the 1920s!)
in the film are still restricted by copyright, and therefore no one is
free to distribute a film that uses them, no matter how brilliant the
film may be."

Then yesterday an event turned up in the upcoming RSS feed for Brighton: the local Flash programmers group are showing the movie.  It turns out the rights issues have been resolved and the film is now available for free download.

I don't yet know if the film is as good as promised but I'm excited to see the Internet is working as it should be.  You read about an odd, obscure film, then a locally organised group put on a showing.  No marketing or advertising required, just a couple of appropriate RSS feeds.

I had big plans for this weekend but most of them fizzled.  I was due to meet someone on Friday to discuss a collaboration and failed to find them.  Saturday I had an appalling headache that drove me to spend the whole day sleeping.  And, because of a (almost-healed) back injury, I missed today's Sussex Beacon Half Marathon.

But this weekend has not been a disaster.  I've read some interesting books, most fascinating of which was In Praise of Shadows.  This is a book on aesthetics by a Japanese novelist, Junichiro Tanizaki.  I particularly loved the description of the effect of dark tableware on soup.  The level of detail has left me spending the weekend noting little things about the world around me. 

Downsides to the book were some unpleasant theorising on aesthetics and race, and the translator's appalling afterword.  He claims "the urge to edit Tanizaki is "almost irresistable" because his essay doesn't have the "symmetry and logical progression" expected by a "Western reader".  "His descriptions of lacquerware under candlelight and women in the darkness … are perfect jewels; but would they not stand out to better advantage removed from the company of that murmuring bowl of soup…?".  No, not really.  

(A quote I loved from the introduction to the book: "The sun never knew how beautiful it was until it fell on the wall of a building" – Louis Khan)

I woke up at 5:15am this morning feeling refreshed, so read until it was time to get up.  After lunch I visited the Brighton Zine Fair's market.  Wow.  I picked up loads of interesting reading, but could easily have come away with much more.  It was an exciting and inspiring event and I'll try to write a separate post about it.

I'm now trying to wrap up the weekend ready for Monday and will hopefully have time to write my piece for Other People's Stories, which is likely to be about high-paid commuters and cheap flats. 

I saw the sign below on the seafront tonight.   It might not be as clever as I think it is but it's certainly more interesting and provocative than the adverts they usually have.