Tag Archives: Art

Thanks for Nothing

Vladimir Nabokov is the master of the paranoid, deranged, unreliable (take your pick or choose all three) narrator. If Lolita didn’t convince you, Pale Fire will. It’s a comedic feat and a delicious confection, but mostly it’s indelible.

Charles Kinbote is our narrator with the questionable judgment and perhaps unsound mind. Some describe him as insane, a remarkably disagreeable person, or a monstrous parasite of a genius. He describes himself as John Shade’s closest friend and most trusted advisor, even if they’ve only known each other for a few months and no one ever thought of them as friends. Their friendship “was the more precious for its tenderness being intentionally concealed.”

Shade is one of the great poets of his generation. He has almost finished his magnum opus when he dies. Kinbote takes possession of the unfinished poem and decides to edit it and provide helpful commentary and notes. Since the poem was Kinbote’s idea, he’s the most qualified person to finish it. Plus, it’s about Kinbote and Zembla, his home country. So who better? The English department at Shade’s university believes the poem has nothing to do with Kinbote or Zembla, a distant northern land no one has heard of. They think the poem is auto biographical and deals with the death of Shade’s daughter, the “waxwing slain.” These professors have written a letter in which they argue the poem has fallen into the “hands of a person who not only is unqualified for the job of editing it . . . but is known to have a deranged mind.” So who’s right?

Pale Fire is a delightfully strange novel. It consists of three sections: Kinbote’s foreword; the poem itself, also named Pale Fire; and Kinbote’s Commentary and Index. And let’s not forget that the story pointedly opens with a quote from James Boswell’s The Life of Samuel Johnson and ends with a murder. So who’s story is being told in Pale Fire? If there is a biographer, who is it? Is Shade a wavelet of fire compared to Kinbote’s bonfire? Or is Kinbote a pale phosphorescent hint trying to shine near Shade? What’s real here? Whether you’re able to answer those questions or not, Pale Fire is a remarkable journey with many laughs along the way.

Thanks for nothing, Gladiola. Aren’t you supposed to answer questions and not ask them? And why should I read about an unreliable guy with a shaky grasp of reality? Is this even literature? Because I only read literature. I’d better let Nabokov take over from here. “Reality is neither the subject nor the object of true art which creates its own special reality having nothing to do with the average reality perceived by the communal eye.” I hope that helps.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

A Tribute to Unknown

So many people have created stunning works of art, and we don’t know their names.  So many more people have created crap and because they are impossible to shame, everyone knows their names.  In terms of literature, some of the most interesting and inspiring works were written by history’s most prolific author:  Unknown. 

It’s Unknown who wrote the Old Testament, as it’s called by Christians.  Jews call it the Torah, which means Jesus Christ!  Quit coopting our stuff.  You do this all the time.  It’s also Unknown who wrote Pearl, Sundiata, El Cid, The Epic of Gilgamesh, Fifty Shades of Grey (The Geriatric Years), Beowulf, and many more works that put bone and flesh on the human condition.

We don’t need social media to inform us that Fame is fickle. We don’t need more grieving parents to remind us that Equity and Justice have never lived here. Time strips away everything we treasure, so it’s a blessing these works have survived in any form.  Even if the poets’ names are lost in the dank cellar of Antiquity’s library, their voices have survived . . . thus far.  Remember poor Sappho.  Her name survives but callous Time has denied us so much of her voice. 

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor – July 17, 2017

Cerebral Thoughts on Art’s Entirely Benevolent Contribution to Civilization

I have drawn a portrait of God
and He looks like me.

Not you.

                    Me.

Saffron Crow, Art Editor

A Tribute to Anonymous Unknown

So many people have created stunning works of art, and we don’t know their names. Even more people crap themselves and call that art. But because they do it in public and are immune to shame, everyone knows their names.

When it comes to literature, some of the most beautiful and inspiring works were written by history’s most prolific writer: Anonymous (aka Unknown) or, better yet, Anonymous Unknown.

Anonymous Unknown wrote the Old Testament, as it is called by Christians. Jews call it the Torah, which literally means Jesus Christ! Quit coopting our stuff – you do this all the time. He, She or They (we simply don’t know) also wrote Pearl, Sundiata, El Cid, The Man from Nantucket, The Epic of Gilgamesh, Fifty Shades of Grey (The Early Years), Beowulf, and many more works that richly explore what makes us human. Yet, their names are lost in the dank cellar of Antiquity’s library – probably behind the leaky water heater and under Sappho’s poems.

We don’t need social media to inform us that Fame is fickle. We don’t need more grieving parents to remind us that Equity and Justice have never lived here. Still, it is a blessing to have these works, even if we don’t know who to praise and thank.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor