Hoppy Spadge

By Racey Helps

Barry Gifford's Sailor and Lula Compendium - Yay!

Seven Stories Press has sent me the new compendium of Barry Gifford's Sailor and Lula Stories, Sailor and Lula - the complete novels. Life is short and my reading list long (currently on my third Mary Roach in a row - currently thinking up pot puns for that review, which will be shortly) and so I don't actively seek out amazing anymore. The wheel of karma brings it to me. My sister bought me Sailor's Holiday (the 3rd book in the series) as a Christmas request from me. It opens up with child sacrifice, migrates to pimps harvested for their organs and encounters with conjectured afterlife. Amplified from the original Wild at Heart, (the first book) and yet with the Gifford flavor all along; life's mundane moments inherently contain enough reflectivity for him to provide insights. This especially evident in his Memories from a Sinking Ship which collects the absences in his childhood and turn them into a series of vignettes told by a dark Jean Shepherd (no you'll shoot your eye out! here) on the streets of Chicago, in the wet snow and broiling sun, managing to imply his father's underworld connections intriguingly.
Wild at Heart, in contrast to Sailor's Holiday, was a disappointment, presumably owing to the mind-meld David Lynch had with him (he went on to write Lost Highway - tit-for-tat within the mind meld, in my opinion) and hence for the first time in my life reading the book after the movie was not an enriching experience. It was reverse verbatim the movie it was stinkingly faithful, and tells the tale as if it were being read to you. (yes blah blah portrayal, mise-en scene, etc. blah, blah) so while I was expecting hidden stuff, there wasn't any. At the time for me, it was all in the other book (the 3rd really).

But that's what's good; it was the third book. I had no idea that there was a second (Perdita Durango) or for that matter 4 more after Sailor's Holiday. I got those book before the internet. book stores knew nothing. Specials order had to be placed, even if the slack-jawed attendant found the listing. We weren't swimming in a sea of cool. But now I've got 'em all. In Lula and Sailor's world I now have more. More death, voodoo, crime, humping, gun-play, humidity, tobacco, bourbon, love and satori.

Frankly, I'm figuratively shitting myself waiting to read it.

Review: A Far Cry From Kensington

A Far Cry from Kensington New Directions (2000), Paperback, 192 pages

I was handed this fictional memoir, by someone I trust to provide quality literary experiences- he assured me of its solid storytelling, and richness of content.

For me, prior to being handed this book, Muriel Spark really brought two things to mind: lighting cigars, (get it?) and books like Please Don't Eat the Daisies , which in reality share nothing with her.
I had no idea.

In his book, Rotten: No Irish No Blacks No Dogs, one finds out just how literary minded John Lydon is and how he was a fan of lots of great literature (Graham Greene's work springs to mind)... I was shocked when preparing to write this that Muriel Spark's Book The Public Image was where Lydon got the name for PiL. Had I not read his book I never would've guessed it but my suspicions were piqued when reviewing Spark's body of work.

In A Far Cry From Kensington, one gets an accurate portrait of post-war London life, with cramped and damp, recession and thrift, and during the progression of the book it's subsequent awakening from its 6 year nightmare.

Being an Anglophile I might've been satisfied with that and would have been polite about it, but disappointed with its lack of plot arrow.

The plot arrow is large and sharp and accurate: An overweight widow in a boarding house and works at a publisher, insults a literary world hanger-on, which in subsequent years, leads to adverse circumstances over and over again for her, all the while reaffirming her belief that the pisseur de copie "pisser or copy" is just what he is, an opportunistic second banana with no moral compunction about exploitation of personal relationships, and it being a small world, capable of infecting more than just the working world of Spark's protagonist, Mrs. Hawkins.

As A Far Cry From Kensington progresses, Mrs. Hawkins loses the insulation she grew during the war; both emotionally and physically- it falls away in the form of weight loss, the loss as allegory for her maturation, as evidenced by her questioning her faith, learning to stand firm when challenged about her interpersonal convictions and rising to the occasion when called upon by her neighbors who have revealed formerly private crises, that stemmed from character flaws that Mrs Hawkins shows us without a word of avarice, only predictive empathy, from someone who by virtue of being a war-widow, feels it necessary to conduct oneself with more maturity than others of her age.

I've hit the spoiler wall; let me just say within all the wool and teacups and rugs and wallpaper there's crazies, death, fist-fighting, insults, medical emergencies, injustice, karma, foreigners, revenge, hoodoo and more. A perfect mix of atmosphere and activity for anyone looking to read outside of genre.

It was also surprising for me, because I thought she was a 1940's & 50's writer (like I said I didn't know anything about her - just the name) - her style in this book doesn't give away that it was written 1988. Her arc runs from Prime of Miss Jean Brodie in 1961 to 2004's The Finishing School.

I suppose that since I'm a PiL fan I'll read The Public Image next and see what more she has to offer.

Final words: read A Far Cry From Kensington, already.


1st ed cover

OK, I think I'm back...........................maybe

Listen, I don't know, spit in the ocean, little pebble on the sand, lost out here in the stars, etc., etc., etc.,. Have you an allegory for resolving ennui? I think there's probably a word that's needed that describes resolve of enniu, like, schmepiphany, or, donkeycarrot, or vivapersonatus, or craeinne.
I'm still chock full of interestingness, and plan to deploy it....now. And ongoing,


Need I say it?!?! from the Glyphjockey collection.
See you tomorrow, my very, very, special bitches.
Lastly one more thing:
................................................................!

First half: Fritzi Ritz 18

What's that Phil got goin' on?

link at pic-

Want the pix? Get in touch.

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Tom and Jerry:
Protagonist/Antagonist
Worker/Establishment
Beatle/Stone
Bowie/Jagger
Me/Jerks
fehrui/renhjiq


Picture is a link to a charming story told in Bigpanelovision

Much Deviltry Afoot Doing Cappy Dick for Winter Day Projects

SECRET HIDING PLACE
You Make It Out Of An Old Book
If you belong to a club that needs a place in which important papers can be safely hidden, make a secret book. It's a good hiding place for small articles. When it is placed on a table or shelf with other books, no one would likely suspect it Contains anything but ordinary pages.
All you need is an old book nobody wants any more and some glue. The pages of the book must be glued together and then an oblong hole must be cut through them. This hull becomes the receptacle for things to be hidden.
Be sure the book you choose is no longer useful. To be on the safe side, get permission from Mother or Dad to use it.
Figure 1 shows how to glue the pages together. The glue is applied only around the three loose edges of the pages. The first 15 or 20 pages of the book should not be glued together. Allow them to be loose as in an ordinary book. Glue all other pages however, and the last page should be glued to the inside of the back cover of the book.
Figure 2 shows how to use a sharp knife to cut the oblong hiding place in the glued pages. Figure 3 shows how you can use water colors to paint the inside of the book if you wish to do so. Figure 4 shows the completed book, out of which the boy has removed some important papers he had hidden there.


AN X-RAY CARD
It Reveals The Bones In Your Hand
This feather "X-ray" card is really a fake, but it's fun to make and use because with it you seem to be able to see the bones in your hand.
You must have two pieces of cardboard and a chicken feather. First thing to do is cut a round hole about the size of a five-cent piece in each card. Make these holes at the same place in each card.
Next, cut a piece of chicken feather that is a little larger than the holes. Glue the two cards firmly together with the feather between them and over the holes. The device is now ready for use.
Hold the card in one hand and look at your other hand through the feather. The bones in your hand will apparently have become visible to you.
Look through the feather at a pencil and the lead will seem to have become visible, also.
It's an illusion, of course, but fun! Try it on your friends.


MAKE A SKULLCAP
Use The Crown Of An Old Hat
Any boy who has never made himself one of those felt skullcaps so popular among the young livewires of the playgrounds, can do so by following these directions.
You begin with an old felt hat such as Father wears, but be sure it is a discarded hat he no longer wants. To play safe, ask him if you can have one of his oldest, most battered hats and I'm sure he'll be glad to pick one out for you.
Cut the brim off the hat as shown in Figure 1. Next, pull the crown of the hat down upon your head as far as it will go. It will probably be so big it will come down over your eyes, and, if this is the case, turn the excess upward, as in Figure 2. If the upturned excess is more than 1&1/2 inches high, use your scissors to trim some of it off.
The hat is now ready for decorations. These can be airholes of various shapes, cut through the felt with a sharp knife or scissors, or can be fancy pins and buttons which can easily be collected. Figure 3 shows various types of decorations and suggests that you cut in some hearts, diamonds, spades and clubs and make zigzag edge around the brim of the hat. The finished hat appears on the boy in the lower right-hand corner of our illustration.
Boys who belong to a club can make themselves skullcaps with identical designs that can have a secret meaning.