The Will to Believe

After looking at the comments I received on a recent blog entry about the bridge collapse in Minneapolis, and after listening tonight to some tapes about Langston Hughes and Wallace Stevens, I finally have something to say about meaning.

I have never been afraid to cross bridges. Of course, it goes through my mind, "What if," every time I'm on a bridge. But then I calm and trust everything will be fine.

For many years, I was trusting. I took people at their word, and I trusted that the people who designed bridges knew what they were doing and had my best interests in mind. The same with leaders, people in authority, like teachers and doctors.

You live and learn. Slowly my trust began to crumble and erode. Now I fight cynicism almost every day. There's plenty to be cynical about, but I don't like feeling that way. It really bothers me. I hate it.

I've built many bridges in this life. I've tried to make meaningful connections the best way I could.

If one of my bridges should collapse, I have others. Hart Crane saw the bridge as Faustian, as a symbol of human intelligence, ability, and power, but bridges aren't forever.

Listening to the lives of poets on my tapes, I was reminded of how poets of that time were influenced by the philosopher William James.

How do we make meaning? What happens when we have the will to believe and nothing to believe in?

There are no large solutions. Truth is momentary.

I think part of the adventure of living is to have faith that the bridge will hold up. Without connections, without risk, we are not living. We become islands waiting to be swallowed up by the sea.

You say truth is momentary. I say that is the point. I struggle daily to stay present minded because the present is all there is. I don't want to waste time worrying about what could have happened or what might happen. From personal experiences, I've learned how important it is to be grateful for the most basic things. I am thankful for my family and friends, the roof over my head, the food on my table and each breath I take.

It is true, bridges aren't forever. That is why I continue to create bridges and accept that some may fall. I have had friends come and go in my life. Connections fade in and out. I decided that if I spend all my time worrying about the fallen bridges I miss the chance to build new ones. To paraphrase, "If I can't be with the friends (family, things) I love, I'll love the ones I'm with.

And there is a lot to be said for not taking life too seriously. I try to search for the humor in those situations that used to leave me mired in cynicism.

If I had nothing to believe in, I guess I would have to believe in nothing!

jugglingpaynes: I admire your confidence. Your reponse reminds me of a discussion I had with a student a couple of years ago. We were talking about dreams. I asked if she'd ever had a dream about crossing bridges, the bridges collapsing, and falling into the water.

"Have you ever dreamed of falling into water?" I asked.

She looked surprised and said she'd had that dream.

I said, "Isn't it awful? Just a feeling of being so lost and afraid? I mean, what can you do?"

And she said, "I just start swimming!"

What an excellent answer!

Theresa, that sounds like something my daughter would say!

I have never been afraid to cross bridges. Of course, it goes through my mind, "What if," every time I'm on a bridge. But then I calm and trust everything will be fine.

I never used to be afraid to cross bridges, but it seems I am moreso as I age. Using the term bridges metaphorically, where with youth I seemed never able to stop myself from taking the plunge into something new, now I find myself hesitating more and more. Is is fear of failure, physical inability, lack of inertia? I'm not sure. I will still try new things but need more prodding and more will-power to simply begin.

For many years, I was trusting. I took people at their word, and I trusted that the people who designed bridges knew what they were doing and had my best interests in mind. The same with leaders, people in authority, like teachers and doctors.

Agian, I'm wondering if age is not a factor for me personally. The more I learn of the world around me (i.e. my political leaders, the corporate entity for which I work, the moneyed, etc.), the more cynical I also become. I live my life the way I desire, but my hope for changing the world and making it more intp the way I'd like it has all but dissolved over my lifetime. Ah ... for the sweet idealism of the 60's. Again, I was young at that time as well. *Sigh*

How do we make meaning? What happens when we have the will to believe and nothing to believe in?

I make meaning by trying to connect with others who believe in what I believe. We might be small in number, but it's a very sad world in which one can find nothing in which to believe. Each individual must reach out to others to let them know that no one need to be truly alone in this world. Their is much in which to believe, but it takes strong numbers to make things happen.

Remember Tieneman Square? How one person stood in defiance? Perhaps that young man did not change the system, but others "out there" saw that they were not alone in their beliefs but simply afraid.

There are no large solutions. Truth is momentary.

Alas. There are no large solutions. I'm afraid I'm being cynical, but I agree.

I build bridges but if betrayed, I am absolutely remorseless. Forgiveness is the one divinely inspired attribute that continues to elude me.

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

It's not quite a personal mantra but it comes close...

I thought it was, "Fool me once shame on you, foll me twice, won't get fooled again".

Well, I'm just a fool. But that's okay. I'm fine with that (smiles).

Hold out your hand...until someone bites it. Good people then put on a glove and try again but I'm afraid I'm more likely to run to a doctor for a tetanus shot. Obviously I am in need of a little enlightenment...

Forgiving someone doesn't necessarily mean you start foolishly trusting them to behave differently in the future than they have in the past. If I were a really good person, I could forgive GWB for what he has done to our country, but I still wouldn't want him or any of his gang in control of the country. In fact, I could forgive him and still think he ought to go to jail and spend some time reflecting on the many things he has done wrong.

I think what forgiving someone really means is that you genuinely hope he/she will have a good life in the future, which might need to include repentence.

Margad: It's Cheney I want behind bars. I think he makes the next most crooked VP, Spiro Agnew (who once accepted a satchel of money in the Executive Office Building) seem like a stone punk. Cheney goes hunting with the head of the Supreme Count, still pockets a nice yearly stipend from Halliburton (y'know, the people who are making billions on contracts in Iraq) and no one thinks anything is strange. In Canada, if our Prime Minister hobnobbed with a justice of the Supreme Court I truly believe he'd be turned out of power...

Yes, I can imagine myself forgiving GWB, but I'm not at that point with Cheney. Perhaps partly because I read a Bush biography, First Son: George W. Bush and the Bush Family Dynasty, and he had a truly heart-wrenching childhood. Maybe if I read about Cheney's childhood . . . ?

I think for all my 51 years, I am still naive. That's why I call myself a fool. I have a terrible fear of becoming hardened. I feel myself being closed off to what makes my art. I hate that feeling.

I ain't even going to touch politics.

>submit

Cheney didn't have a childhood: he was born wrinkled, bald and with his hand out.

Theresa: Never submit...never surrender...

Doggone it, Cliff, you've ruined me for clicking those submit buttons. I can't get that out of my mind now. You are a cad. LOL about Cheney. But I ain't gonna talk politics, no sirree.

#14: Margad, what was wrong with the big B's childhood?

Cliff, you sound like a nattering nabob of negativity.

I agree with Theresa about politics. I am engaged in serious political discussion in several groups and, quite frankly, come here to get away from it. I look to learn here, I enjoy listening to all the profs and writers here talk about life, poetry, books, all the things that make the life of the mind and creativity.

Maybe someone could start a group or thread on politics in Academe, Politics and the Arts, or some such, but once you start on politics in a thread it takes over and there are already more than enough political groups in LT to slake the thirst of the staunchest partisan.

In case you can't tell, I really don't want these Art Is Life to become political beyond how it effects someones creative work. Discussing the politics of a writer and how it informs his/her work (English really needs a set of pronouns other than "it" that refer strictly to sex neutral humans.) falls well within the purview of this group, but just general Bush bashing should be out of bounds because it's contagious.

With that said, My statement on BushCo can be found here. Scroll down to the entry on Why We Are at War.

I get passionate sometimes and certainly don't mean to rain on any parades, but politics truly is a third rail and can kill discussion.

Nah, it's definitely a sidebar discussion, to be sure. If I'm too blame for this digression, so be it. To me, the entire world swirls through my life and writing, all filters and blinders off. Sometimes that's overwhelming, creating a cacophony of noise. Other times I'm able to direct those elements, use them to whittle my satire to a sharp edge. "Art is Life" and "Life is Art" and being fully engaged in life means taking in as much as you can, digesting it so you have the clearest possible view of the world. Literature, politics, sports, history, film, music, these are essential components of my world, each contributes something to my aesthetic, informing subtle dialogue exchanges and even the visual works I have executed. I am a political writer in the sense that contemporary events have at least a psychic impact on my writing.

Nattering nabob of negativity--very good. That's Agnew and you remembered and now we're BOTH showing our age...

When GWB was 5 or 6, the little sister he dearly loved was diagnosed with leukemia. Out of some misguided notion of sparing the other children, his parents didn't tell them she had a potentially fatal illness. They took her to be treated at the Mayo Clinic, and GWB's mother spent a great deal of time there, away from the other children. All this while, GHWB was intent on making his fortune as an oilman. This was enormously time-consuming, so Barbara was left pretty much on her own to handle her daughter's illness.

GWB was called out of school one day and informed that his sister was dead. He had no idea this was a possibility. During the months afterward, Barbara was severely depressed, and George appointed himself to cheer her up, becoming something of a clowner. Of course, he was mourning his sister, too.

There were many other family issues that undoubtedly helped form his personality, but this is the one that really touches my heart.

One last Bush, Jr. story and this time a nice one (just to show I'm not a complete arse, geneg). It's told in the book AMBLING INTO HISTORY by Frank Bruni. Bush is in a rush one day and he gets into that helicopter that carries the President to the airport or wherever and as he sits down he realizes he neglected to return the salute of the the Marine customarily stationed outside the helicopter (security? ceremony?). Anyway, he unbelts, leans out the helicopter, which has yet to take off, taps the young Marine on the shoulder and salutes him. A little thing but it humanized the man...slightly...

I think forgiveness is a gift you present to yourself, to ease your own burden, not so much something you grant another.

#23-I was going to say the same thing. It is a somewhat misguided notion that forgiveness is for the person you are forgiving. Forgiveness is meant to help clear the negative energy from ourselves and allow us to move on.

And it is a process. We are human, and we are very good at remember the hurts in our lives. But being upset over these wrongs allows the people who hurt us to have power over us. It hurts no one but ourselves. I don't like giving any brain space to people who upset me. Especially politicians. ;o)

With GW Bush, I use positive actions like working toward ending the war and protecting the environment. Every little bit helps.

#23 and #24: I like that. Forgiveness is an important theme in so much of our literature. I think of The Color Purple when Miss Celie forgives and finds a way to move on. Guilt, also, drives much of our literature. Would any of you like to offer examples?

Um...A real life example or a literary example? And which one, forgiveness or guilt? I'm going to have to ponder this. Let me sleep on it and I'll give you examples tomorrow.

Angela's Ashes was all about forgiveness, I think. His parents were so incompetent as parents, and his forgiveness of them permeates the memoir.

Ezra Pound wrote a poem called "A Pact" in which he reconciles with Walt Whitman, whom he calls a "pig-headed father" but also the poet who "broke the new wood."

There is also a wonderful poem called "The Pardon" by Richard Wilbur. It is about a man looking back at a childhood incident involving his dead dog:

The Pardon
by Richard Wilbur
My dog lay dead five days without a grave
In the thick of summer, hid in a clump of pine
And a jungle of grass and honeysuckle vine.
I who had loved him while he kept alive

Went only close enohgh to where he was
To sniff the heavy honeysuckle-smell
Twined with another odor heavier still
And the flies' intolerable buzz.

Well, I was ten and very much afraid.
In my kind of world the dead were out of range
And I could not forgive the sad or strange
In beast or man. ...

You should look up the poem and read the rest (I found it online. The poem culminates in this magical moment where the speaker experiences a divine revelation, noting that, in a dream, his dog was "clothed in a hymn of flies."

Wilber ends by saying, "I beg death's pardon now. / And mourn the dead."

It's just such a gorgeous poem. You all need to experience it!

Many of my examples come from children's books. For guilt driven themes, there is nothing like you classic fairy tale or myth. In some versions of Cupid and Psyche, Psyche is driven to perform Venus' tasks because of her guilt over betraying Cupid's trust. There is also a Zen tale that is retold in the story Zen Shorts that is a wonderful example of forgiveness and how it effects the one who forgives. I will try to summarize it:
Two traveling monks come across a woman who can't cross some deep puddles without spoiling her robes and scolds her attendants who have no place to put her packages to help her. The older monk carries her across the water and puts her down on the other side. Instead of thanking him, she shoves him out of the way and departs. The two monks walk on and after a time the younger monk complains about the woman's rudeness. The older monk replies, "I set the woman down hours ago. Why are you still carrying her?"

A charming story. In the version I heard, the younger monk scolded the older monk for the sexually-oriented sin of physically picking up the woman to carry her over a river.

#31-Guess they cleaned it up for the kids. This is why I love reading fairy tales, folklore and myths. They are always being retold and reinvented!

Yes, they stay alive, don't they!

For those of you who like fairytales and myths, check out The Virgin Spring which is a film by Ingmar Bergman (also avail. in book form). The story for the film was written in book form by a woman who worked with Bergman. Apparently, Bergman changed aspects of the story as he translated the text to film.

The original story is actually a centuries old ballad that is well-known in Sweden to this day. It is about a young maiden who is on her way to church to deliver candles when she is raped and murdered by goat herders. The herders then try to sell the girl's garments to her parents who have unwittingly taken them in against the cold.

The Spring is a real place in Sweden, and the site of a very old church.

It is a rich tale about forgiveness.

Theresa:

I don't think "Virgin Spring" is about forgiveness. That wasn't forgiveness on Von Sydow's face as he methodically slaughtered everyone associated with his daughter's murder (including the young boy who was only a passive observer). I think it was more about transcendence--I heard one critic describe it as a "miracle play" and I believe that closest to the truth.

It's not a film that Bergman particularly cares for, except that winning the Oscar gave him more money for future projects.

"A film which was one of my shadiest, it seems to me just now, was The Virgin Spring. I admit it contains a couple of passages with immense acceleration and vitality, and it has some sort of cinematic appeal. The idea of making something out of the old folk-song 'Herr Töre of Venge's Daughters' was a sound one. But then the jiggery-pokery began—the spiritual jiggery-pokery. I wanted to make a blackly brutal mediaeval ballad in the simple form of a folk-song. But while talking it all over with the authoress, Ulla Isaksson, I began psychologizing. That was the first mistake, the introduction of a therapeutic idea: that the building of their church would heal these people. Obviously it was therapeutic; but artistically it was utterly uninteresting. And then, the introduction of a totally unanalyzed idea of God. The mixture of the real active depiction of violence, which has a certain artistic potency, with all this other shady stuff—today I find it all dreadfully triste....A fine example of how one's motifs can get all tangled up, and how limitations and weaknesses one isn't clear about—intellectual shortcomings, inability to see through one's own motives—can transform a work as it develops."

— Ingmar Bergman, Bergman on Bergman

If there is forgiveness in the film, it is God forgiving Tore for his sins (hence the virgin spring) - in Lutheranism sin can only be forgiven by God's Grace.

We shouldn't forget that it is film that gave us Wes Craven - his first film, "The Last House on the Left" is closely based on this film. (The film was produced by Sean Cunningham who gave the Friday 13th series).

I love Bergman's films: we could all argue about them for weeks and years. I'm going into spoiler territory here:

The spring, which is created from the body of the dead girl, symbolizes forgiveness to me. Tore's promise to build the church is an act of atonement for his sins, but the spring is God's response, and the dark sister washing her face in the spring seems a washing away of her guilt.

#36: I understand that Bergman took on the opinion of his critics, sometimes. A lot of critics, especially in Sweden, did not like Virgin Spring. He was very sensitive to criticism and to how he was being perceived. This could explain why he is so hard on himself regarding this movie. With Bergman, who can tell? Although the message Virgin Spring is undoubtedly Christian, I think the themes about revenge and atonement can go beyond Christianity and the film can speak to us about our everyday lives. The Dubus work, IN THE BEDROOM is essentially the same story.

Oh please, oh please, tell me about "The Last House on the Left," Jargoneer. I've seen mention of it in relation to Virgin Spring, but I don't know anything about it!

#35 and #36: Thank you for sharing your ideas about Virgin Spring.

And, not to forget this thread is about "the will to believe"... Bergman's films often explored the question of God, didn't they? Something that has been pointed out about The Virgin Spring is that Tore says something very existential: "God, I don't understand you..." and yet Tore says he will use his hands--the same hands with which he has killed--to build a church for God. This act speaks of the "will to believe" in the face of overwhelming evidence that god does not exist (Tore says to God, "You watched this happen...").

Again, if we look at the story broadly and not just a story about Christianity, it still says a lot about faith and will and forgiveness.

I saw "Last House on the Left".

Unfortunately...

Aaarough! Cliff! Tell me about it! (LOL)

Hateful movie, made by hateful people. Not a scrap of value to it, utterly vile from beginning to end. Misogyny, ugliness...everything I've come to hate about horror movies and fiction. Horror (as I've said in other forums, including my blog) should be a cerebral experience, not cheapened by an over-reliance on gimmicks, gore and willful viciousness. "Someone save us from these purveyors of shit" is how I put it (and that was showing admirable restraint on my part, believe me). My wife, Sherron, thinks I should have that put on a t-shirt. Any buyers?

LHOTL is not a pleasant experience - it removes any trace of spirituality and just concentrates on the brutality. At the time Craven claimed that the brutality was symbolic of Vietnam but in recent years he has said he went too far. Due to the rape scenes the film has always had problems getting a release in the UK - it was banned outright in the 1980s when there was a backlash against 'video nasties'. It was still denied a certificate for dvd releases recently due to the refusal of the distributors to make cuts. It's not the level of violence that is the problem - most modern horror films are far more graphic - it's the type of violence.

Re Bergman - he was raised a Lutheran; his father was a minister. However, his films seem to ask whether God exists more than affirming the existence of Him. In "The Seventh Seal", the knight fears that God doesn't exist; in TVS Tore wonders how there can be a God if he allows such atrocity to exist. In the end Bergman as an individual stopped believing and stated that his end of faith was life affirming.

His early films were neither financially or critically successful in Sweden. His international success was the catalyst for getting funding for his films.

I have never heard of LHOTL at all, let alone the controversy. It does not sound like something I would like to see.

I love SEVENTH SEAL. I knew from interviews that I've seen with Bergman that he renounced belief in God and that he found comfort in his own beliefs about life. I'm intrigued, then, with all of the references to death in his films. CRIES AND WHISPERS is especially powerful in what it seems to say about the necessity of accepting death.

I started this tread with references to Wallace Stevens and William James. Both men thought about what we do when we have the will to believe but have lost faith in God.

William James suggests that one may choose to believe, instead, in a variety of things (including art).

I guess what I'm getting at is that Bergman does seem to have beliefs, just not Christian beliefs. As active as he was in films and plays, one might draw the conclusion that his art was something he believed in, deeply.

Which brings me back to the people at LT and my original question: how do we make meaning? What do we take solace in? Where do we find our will to believe in something?

Does art give any of you the will to believe?

Like any great artist, Bergman used his art to explore his own beliefs and preconceptions and, indeed, that COULD give a man a kind of purpose or direction in lieu of faith. The fact that issues relating to faith, spirituality, mythos recur so frequently in his work lead one to posit that despite his refusal to cede to the notion of a personal god, he couldn't help worrying at the bone. How could others believe and he couldn't? Many of his characters lead spiritually empty lives and their dissatisfaction is evident, it denies them happiness, a sense of fulfillment. Those long shots of people staring blankly, almost like they're shell-shocked. The planes of Liv Ullmann's face, the sterile beauty of Bibi Andersson. What horror lurks behind those eyes (are they regarding the abyss?) Why does he linger over untenanted rooms and sear landscapes? What was he hoping/wishing to find there?

Have to get my hands on BERGMAN BY BERGMAN. Jargoneer, is yours a lending library?

Cliff, what beautiful writing (#44). I'm so glad you wrote this. Your comment: "he couldn't help worrying at the bone" is something I have wondered about as well.

This topic of belief is important to me, since, a long time ago, I gave up on spiritual matters (re: "church") in favor of art (particularly reading and writing). I was wondering if others felt about their work as I do, that it is a great comfort and something to "believe" in.

I don't want to sound simplistic, though.

Well, I still have a faith, of sorts, but it isn't tied to any one religion or organized theology. It's more instinctive and it IS tied to my writing. When I'm creating, I feel like I'm brushed by the Intangible, I don't put a name or face on it, I just get the sense that something has passed into me and is inspiring and informing my work. It's literally hair-raising at times, especially when the words seem to tumble out of their own volition. I'm plugged into the mainline of the living universe and that is when I'm at my best. Doesn't happen often enough for my liking but when it does, BAM.

I meditate/pray every morning before commencing work, asking nothing for myself, only to serve Creation in whatever capacity my limited talents allow. I'm not a good enough writer to work without some kind of outside intervention. Connecting with the Infinite allows me to transcend my modest gifts and, occasionally, produce something of lasting merit.

This is very personal stuff and I feel a bit awkward discussing it (like providing details of my sex life or hygiene habits) but this thread is an important one and I wanted to contribute what I can...

These musings on faith and Bergman bring to mind two other anecdotes. James Joyce rejected his Catholic faith but was not averse to accompanying people to church and standing at the back with his arms crossed, not taking part but clearly...interested.

And there's that line from another great film-maker, Luis Bunuel, who famously said "I'm an atheist, thank God..."

>44 CliffBurns: - I'd love a copy of Bergman on Bergman as well. At the last glance, it's selling for £50+ in the UK. The material I'm quoting comes from a season of Bergman movies the Edinburgh Film Theatre ran. Alongside the films were related talks & discussions on the films.

William James spent much of his working life trying to explain the mystical experience, which lead him to experimenting with various drugs in order to duplicate the experience.

It was Nietzsche who first raised the idea that God was dead and he reasoned that we fill the religious gap with myth. Myth can be created through art hence art replaces God.

Cliff, your descriptions of the Bergman's actresses leads to an interesting question - who is responsible for these images? Bergman or Sven Nykvist, his cinematographer?

There's a movie by Polanski, a documentary on Sven Nykvist I've always wanted to see. Perhaps part of the answer might lie there. As much as I admire S.N.'s cinematography, I have to believe the impetus and inspiration for the images/symbolism in Bergman's films are the director's. Bergman always wrote his screenplays in novel form first, did he not? That would seem to indicate he had plotted out the movie and its underpinnings in some depth beforehand. But perhaps their collaboration was closer than that. It's certainly a valid and interesting point.

I'll check at the Saskatoon library next time we drive in to the "big city" (220,000 people) for the Bergman book.

As for you, jargoneer, here's my good deed of the day:

Plug this address into your computer and it should take you to abebooks, who have some cheaper copies of BERGMAN ON BERGMAN available (it's the shipping that might be a problem, depends on how much you want this brute). Anyway, have a look:

http://www.abebooks.com/servlet/SearchResults?an=stig+bjorkman&sts=t&x=0...

Cliff, you quoted: "I'm an atheist, thank God..."

LOL!

Cliff, I, too, feel that when I write, something is coming through me rather than just from me. This is true even when I work very hard and consciously on structure, etc., and do contribute a lot that is "from" me. With a satisfying piece of writing, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, and that extra something doesn't feel like it comes just from me. I don't feel that it's coming from god, but there does seem to be something divine about it, in the sense of it being a spiritual quality and greater than any individual being.

Bergman on Bergman should be available through Interlibrary Loan, if you can't find a reasonably priced copy for sale. Ask your local librarian. If your library has a website, it probably has a link to something called WorldCat, through which you can look up a book by its title or various other attributes, and then order a loan through your own library. I couldn't live without Interlibrary Loan. It's wonderful!

>51 margad: - I live in the real Edinburgh, i.e., the capital of Scotland, and all the English language books have been removed from library shelves to make way for Polish titles.
:-D

The Poles have invaded Scotland? Why wasn't this on the news? I know the EU is all about integration of the monetary system and national economies but...

Polish Community in Edinburgh, and it's grown since then. It doesn't seem a lot but Edinburgh is a small city. I just happen to live in an area that has seen much of this influx. It's strange but I can walk along the street and hear more Eastern Europe languages spoken than English. Not that I'm complaining, I can now fly to Poland for £40 - Krakow is a beautiful city, as is Gdansk (it's not just shipyards and politics).

It's the different kinds of cuisines I would like--I live in a city of about 15,000 on the Canadian prairies and the variety of food choices is (being kind) limited. Fast food joints and a few chain restaurants but in terms of ethnic cooking, forget it. That's why we head in to Saskatoon for cajun or Greek or--cripes, I had warmed up leftovers for dinner today, stuff most people wouldn't feed their cat. Why am I doing this to myself?

Monsieur J, the sausages must be amazing. I think of Edinburgh and (don't be offended) I picture the young thugs from the novels of Irvine Welsh, kicking the crap out of the tourists and trying to score. I love Irvine but I'll bet the local chamber of commerce wishes he had never raised his bald pate and howled at the blistered moon...

Irvine Welsh - worst Scotland writer for years but unfortunately the most influential. He's like an moronic version of James Kelman. The least accurate portrayer of Scotland currently writing (apart from his disciples). His works have more to do with William Burroughs, Thomas Pynchon, et al, than the real Edinburgh.
I'm not an McCall Smith fan either but the real city is closer to his vision than Welsh's.

Despite it's size Edinburgh is a good city for eating out (and drinking). I'm not sure about Polish food but the beer's nice.

I like Kelman and read an article he penned about literary colonialism that was very fine, passionate and well-articulated.

Have to confess I do like Welsh too--especially the early novels, which fairly vibrated with life, intensity, a kind of robust kineticism that just isn't found in Canadian writing (I've often argued that Canuck scribblers have yet to meet an inactive verb they don't like).

This country features the most boring national literature imaginable. Self-conscious authors who write with one eye on their navels. Welsh is a breath of fresh air compared to the stick-in-the-muds on this side of the pond...

Margad:

Sorry for not responding sooner. Interlibrary loans are a godsend, you're right. I should try getting the Bergman book that way. It's how I ended up with the new William Gibson, though, admittedly, I'm having trouble getting into it.

Yes, that moment when someone/something seems to take over the writing process is scary/amazing, isn't it? The desire to experience that feeling is what keeps me going sometimes, writing even when I don't feel the magic and hoping that I will suddenly be seized by Inspiration and all at once a pedestrian piece of writing is transformed into something sublime.

Amazon has just a few copies of Bergman on Bergman for sale: the cheapest is over $30. Still, it would be worth having. I've recently ordered a copy of Images: my life in film which is supposed to be more "true" to how Bergman really felt about his work than Bergman on Bergman.

I would like to add to your description of the writing aspect, Cliff and Margad, but I'm so tired from a busy week of classes that anything I would write right now would be so superficial. But as I have already explained, writing is a kind of church for me.

In my case, to steal a quote from somebody else, it would be a "church of the poisoned mind"...

Theresa, BERGMAN ON BERGMAN is available for about four bucks on that abebooks link I sent to jargoneer.

Incidentally, I think any artist talking about his work is a terrible liar. They may think they have perspective but it's a pretty narrow one. That's why I don't believe there's any such thing as a true autobiography or an unbiased documentary, what have you. We are prisoners of our perceptions (and preconceptions) and to think we can escape that, even temporarily, into objectivity is deluding ourselves.

I've just finished Roman Polanski's auto-bio and he mentions that he was very taken with R.L. Gregory's EYE AND BRAIN while he was making "Rosemary's Baby" (coincidentally I found the Gregory book at a thrift shop that same week for 25 cents). We look at an object, even something simple and straightforward like a chair, and our life experiences and expectations make us see a totally different chair than the next observer. Reality is completely subjective...and all at once the outlines of my body fade away and I cease to exi

Why "poisoned," Cliff? Do you mean that you write about odd or twisted things?

I don't want to leave the impression that I write spiritual prose, in the manner of someone like Dillard. I do write about dark and sometimes violent things.

Damn, Theresa, I thought you were going to sleep! I just posted an extended rap on the above. Well, there it is now...

Cliff, I'm a night owl. Bwa, ha, ha. Can you cut and paste your extended rap (or at least part of it) here? I'm interested.

Cliff, you are right. Artists are terrible liars. I also think I could explain something I've written one day and then the next day completely contradict myself. And both times feel like I'm telling the truth. For bucks at Abe? I'm all over it. Thanks!

I'm a night owl too but I have to be up with Sher and the boys at 6:45 a.m.--it's 11:35 p.m. so I'm heading off. I'll catch up with what everybody's said in the morning.

Have a good one and no talking about me while I'm away...

(P.S. I still hate this god----ed "Submit" button)

One last thing, my favorite Philip K. Dick quote, in case I haven't shared it with you before:

"Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away."

I want that on a t-shirt.

G'night all...

Re writers and lying - I think they especially do it when writing advice for fledgling writers. All that stuff about how they write X number of pages a day, rain or shine, inspired or otherwise. Or that they sit down at their desks promptly at a specified time of day, 7 days a week, and don't rise until X o'clock whether they've written anything or not. They might aspire to this, and even approach some simulacrum of their schedule on a regular basis. But anyone who really does this is way more obsessed than I am, and I'm pretty obsessed. Besides, when do they find the time for research? - which is almost always necessary to at least some degree, even with fiction. Or reading, which is also necessary. Or to live, which is necessary in order to have something to write about!

Re Edinburgh - I always associate it with the medieval queen - wasn't her name Margaret? - who grew up in Hungary and lived in the castle on the big rock in Edinburgh. My parents visited it once, and I was so jealous.

I always lie to fledgling writers to scare them, check their mettle.

"Yup, I write 24 1/2 hours a day and haven't slept for fourteen years. My fingers are worn down to my wrist bones so I have to type with my big toes and I STILL get 90 words a minute..."

Let's see if the buggers still like the notion of living the writing life after they hear THAT whopper.

Oh, Cliff, you're mean. It's true, though: people who think writing is, above all, going to be their ticket to fame, fortune and an inflated ego are in for a hard crash landing.

Margad, I'm shocked.

Mean? Me?

My solicitors will hear of this...as you know, I carefully cultivate my image as a kind, sweet-spirited individual with the disposition of a bottle fed koala bear...

So where do you get your life experiences in order to write your books, Cliff?They do not seem to be made of koala bear mettle??

What is people's general impression of Chuck Palahniuk . Is he worth a read?

Ka-ren...are you actually asking where I get my ideas from? That's top secret stuff (and could earn me about five years in prison should certain details come out before the statute of limitations expires).

I love Palahniuk's first three or four books (FIGHT CLUB and LULLABY) but his last few, RANT and, particularly, HAUNTED, were disappointing. It's like he's trying to top himself in terms of grossness and extreme imagery. His collection of essays STRANGER THAN FICTION is also first-rate, one quickly sees that his weirdness is NOT an affectation. His life has been touched by tragedy and the bizarreness that colours his work comes from a place deep inside that light can never reach...

Ha! I'm not scared of your solicitors, Cliff - I'm from the U.S. and we don't have solicitors here.

There's an interesting comparison review for Palahniuk's Choke and Koontz's Odd Thomas in the Books Compared Group, which mentions the tragedy in Palahniuk's life.

Margad:

No solicitors? That's great. Now if we could just get rid of the lawyers...

Alas, lawyers are another matter entirely.