MERCI

Un challenge de faire trois lignes sur le Tunnel sans employer d'adjectifs. Disons simplement que cela arrive deux à trois fois dans une vie de lecteur, guère plus. Je pense qu'on aura compris.

RED, WHITE, BLACk AND BLUE

Peut-être le meilleur scénario de polar de ces 10 dernières années...qui dort dans des cartons. Scandaleux. Par Andrew Kevin Walker, l'auteur de Se7en et de Sleepy Hollow.


http://www.awesomefilm.com/script/redwhiteblackandblue.html

HIDEOUS MEN

La nouvelle la plus strange du moment....John Krasinski, un des acteurs de la série de The Office, va faire ses débuts devant la caméra en adaptant Brief Interviews With Hideous Men de David Foster Wallace!!!! Un sexe, mensonge et vidéo PostModern? On demande à voir.......

GRAVITY

Une page par jour......(d)étonnant.

http://dearmisterpynchon.blogspot.com/index.html

ZEROVILLE

Zeroville. C'est le titre du nouveau Steve Erickson, à sortir en 2008. L'histoire d'un homme qui arrive à Hollywood en 1969 avec, tatoué sur le crâne, des images d'Elizabeth Taylor et de Montgomery Clift. Voyage aux enfers au pays des cinéphiles et cinéphages, visite des bas fonds hollywoodiens et de tous les déjantés qui y fleurissent - et finalement découverte d'une conspiration internationale à travers des messages véhiculés via le montage de certains films. On en salive d'avance.....

THE GALILEE HITCH-HIKER

Baudelaire was
driving a Model A
across Galilee.
He picked up a
hitch-hiker named
Jesus who had
been standing among
a school of fish,
feeding them
pieces of bread.
“Where are you
going?” asked
Jesus, getting
into the front
seat.
“Anywhere, anywhere
out of this world!”
shouted
Baudelaire.
“I’ll go with you
as far as
Golgotha,”
said Jesus.
“I have a
concession
at the carnival
there, and I must not be
late.”

R Brautigan

RENDONS A CESAR

Soyons les premiers à l'annoncer (il faut rendre à César...) : le nouveau Steve Katz, sobrement intitulé Kisssssss dans les bacs à l'automne prochain chez FC2. Yé!
(Au programme aussi chez FC2, It Was Like My Trying To Have a Tender-Hearted Nature, de Diane Williams, dont le Romancer Erector, qui date d'il y a quelques années déjà, était un petit bijou : "One day, someone will decode these cryptic, sinister, upsetting stories by Diane Williams. But by then she will no doubt have forged yet further into the lonely far limits of radical storytelling. This is the writing of the future, a prose of sophisticated disturbance and sorrow." --Ben Marcus)

DU COTE DES ANGLAIS....

Du côté des anglais, les deux découvertes du printemps ont pour héros des amnésiques (après la vague schizo, la nouvelle tendance ?)

-On nous dit grand bien du roman de Steven Hall, The Raw Shark Texts, qui met en scène des poissons conceptuels se nourrissant de cellules grises et de sentiments du moi. Le héros, un jeune amnésique réussira-t-il à semer ces prédateurs métaphysiques qui sont à ses trousses ? On nous annonce le croisement improbable (certes) de Matrix, des Dents de la mer et de Memento. Faut voir…….

-Et Remainder de Tom McCarthy, un amnésique là aussi, donc, qui, après avoir touché une somme faramineuse, reconstruit son existence en fonction de ses sentiments de déjà-vu.








Pour ma part, j’attends avec impatience Twilight Time, le nouveau Simon Crumb, dont le My Elvis Blackout, est un petit chef d’œuvre en son genre. et Tainted Love, de l’inénarrable Stewart Home, dont le 69 things to do with a dead Princess est à lire toutes affaires cessantes !

A DREAM

It was a very cold clear fall night
I had a terrible dream
Billy name and brigid were playing under my stair case
On the second floor about two o'clock in the morning

I woke up
Because amos and archie had started barking
That made me very angry
Because i wasn't feeling well and i told them
I was very cross the real me
That they just better remember
What happened to sam the bad cat
That was left at home and got sick and went pussy heaven

It was a very cold clear fall night
Some snowflakes were falling
Gee, it was so beautiful
And so i went to get my camera to take some pictures
And then i was taking the pictures
But the exposure thing wasn't right
And i was going to call fred or gerry
To find out how to get set it
I was too late
And then i remembered they were still probably at dinner
And anyway
I felt really bad and didn't want to talk to anybody
But the snowflakes were so beautiful and real looking
And i really wanted to hold them
And that's when i heard the voices
From down the hall near the stairs
So i got a flashlight
And i was scared and i went out into the hallway
There's been all kinds of troubles
Lately in the neighborhood
And someone's got to bring home the bacon and anyway
There were brigid and billy playing

And under the stair case
Was a little meadow sort of like the park at 23rd street
Where all the young kids go and play frisbee
Gee, that must be fun
Maybe we should do an article on that in the magazine
But they'll just tell me i'm stupid and it won't sell
But i'll just hold my ground this time, i mean
It's my magazine, isn't it?

So i was thinking that as the snowflakes fell
And i heard those voices having so much fun
Gee, it would be so great to have some fun
So i called billy
But either he didn't hear me or he didn't want to answer
Which was so strange
Because
Even if i don't like reunions i've always loved billy
I'm so glad he's working
I mean it's different than ondine
He keeps touring with those movies
And he doesn't even pay us and the film
I mean the film's just going to disintegrate and then what
I mean he's so normal off of drugs
I just don't get it

And then i saw john cale
He's been looking really great
He's been coming by the office to exercise with me
Ronnie said i have a muscle
But he's been really mean since he went to aa
I mean what does it mean
When you give up drinking and then you're still so mean
He says i'm being lazy but i'm not
I'm just can't find any ideas
I mean i'm just not
Let's face it
Going to get any ideas up at the office

And seeing john made me think of the velvets
And i had been thinking about them
When i was on st. marks place
Going to that new gallery those sweet new kids have opened
But the thought i was old
And then i saw the old dom
The old club where we did our first shows
It was so great
And i don't understand about that velvet's first album
I mean i did the cover
I was the producer
And i always see it repackaged
And i've never gotten a penny from it
How could that be
I should call henry
But it was good seeing john
I did a cover for him
But i did in black and white and he change it to color
It would have been worth more if he'd left it my way
But you can never tell any body anything i've leaned that

I tried calling again to billy and john
They wouldn't recognize me it was like i wasn't there
Why won't they let me in

And then i saw lou
I'm so mad at him
Lou reed got married and didn't invite me
I mean is it because he thought i'd bring too many people
I don't get it
Could have at least called
I mean he's doing so great
Why doesn't he call me?
I saw him at the mtv show
And he was one row away and he didn't even say hello
I don't get it
You know i hate lou
I really do
He won't even hire us for his videos
And i was proud of him

I was so scared today
There was blood leaking thought my shirt
From those old scars from being shot
And the corset i wear to keep my insides in was hurting
And i did three sets of fifteen pushups
And four sets of ten setups
But then my insides hurt
And i saw drops of blood on my shirt and i remember
The doctors saying i was dead
And then later they had to take blood out of my hand
'couse they ran out or veins
But then
All this thinking was making me an old grouch
And you can't do anything anyway so
If they wouldn't let me play with them in my own dream
I was just going to have to make another
And another
And another
Gee, wouldn't it be funny if i died in this dream
Before i could make another one up

And nobody called

And nobody came

MONOLITH

Un Frenchie maître du crazy techno pop qui sample Stanley Elkin (The Macguffin) et Vollmann (You Bright and Risen Angels) en japonais.....Monolith, de O.Lamm. Ca vaut le détour.

AGAINST THE DAY

Le problème quand on ferme un nouveau Pynchon, c’est le temps qu’il faut pour redescendre de la montagne – et regarder à nouveau la production littéraire courante avec indulgence, recréer l’illusion. De là-haut, la perspective n’est en effet guère encourageante. Victimes collatérales – comme après la lecture de chaque grand livre, les vingt livres que vous ouvrez ensuite. L'impression d'aller bavarder avec les peintres de la place du Tertre après une expo Bacon. Un long échauffement est nécessaire avant de retrouver le moindre intérêt à la lecture de ses contemporains. Reste la solution d’ouvrir une autre grande œuvre – puis une autre, puis une autre, fuite en hauteur qui est sûrement la seule issue convenable – ou bien la série de polars à trois balles avant de retourner, à petits pas, vers ce qui montre la moindre prétention.
Mettons donc sur le compte de Pynchon (sans guère d’illusions toutefois) cette difficulté ces derniers mois à trouver la moindre voix singulière, atypique, résonante venue d’outre-Atlantique. Il y a bien des choses en dehors des sentiers battus, certes – des terrains balisés : le roman absurdiste, fait pour le 100 mètres, pathétique en longue distance, trop souvent anecdotique ; le roman concept, incapable de s’évader de son idée maîtresse et de ses structures encombrantes, les starting-blocks lui collent aux pieds ; le roman monstre qui vous gave au bout de cent pages, c’est l’oie qui passe dans l’entonnoir, etc, etc.
Finalement, et contre toute attente, les choses les plus « séduisantes » de ces dernières semaines sont hexagonales (Cadiot, Jauffret, Celine Minard, voire Antoine Bello). Curieux changement de perspectives. Against the Day.

P.S : Cher Fausto – Aller écouter Gass en lecture à Paris, lire la traduction de Claro (le Rodin de la trad ?) du Tunnel, finir le séjour en allant voir Inland Empire. Parfait. Mais après ?