I’ve recently come across The Penguin Blog, suggested to me by one of other social media site I’ve found myself a member of recently. And its lovely. I don’t normally find web and blog design exciting, its something I do at Litfest with reluctance and with constant muttering of obscenities when I’m forced to mess with CSS and <div> tags. But, as with all things Penguin, this has taken a literary blog to a new level.
Penguin Blog 29 January 2009
You can’t go wrong with thier nice orange, but the subtlty of application is really nice, as is the type style. Very clean and simple.
But, its about content isn’t it. And the content is excellent. Anyone interested in publishing, from now matter which point, writer, designer, editor, publicist, will find it interesting. I am particulalry taken with Sale Manager Fiona Buckland’s peice on selling books in hard economic times and what it could mean for us, at Litfest and Flax. And my conclusion is that it is about value. What Penguin offered back in the 30s and today with its recent big ideas and similar ranges, is brilliant value. They look beautiful, they are interesting, they are accessible. And you don’t even have to talk about the cost. The are not “value for money”, just value.
Wendy Cope has questioned the role of poet laureate, saying it’s the duty of all poets to comment/reflect on national events (read a fraction more here). She’s calling for it to be scrapped. While one hand I agree. On the other I wonder if there’s an opportunity here.
So far the role has gone to the ‘establishment’. The past three laureates: while middle class males: Betjeman, Hughes and Motion. This time round there’s talk of a woman being put forward. Two before Cope had her public say. A step, yes. But how about going a little further? How about readdressing the bias? As Bernardine Evaristo discussed in a previous post there is a stifling monoculture of published poets in this country. Maybe it’s time for a reappraisal of what the point of the role is. Maybe it’s more than a job of advocacy (one Motion has brought into the role). Maybe it should reflect what poetry can be so brilliant at: shining a light on a unspoken truth. Transparency.
Maybe there should be a decent salary attached, an open invitation to apply and a cross-cultural selection committee.
Simon Armitage isn’t in Lancaster this February. He isn’t performing his poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, but New Perspectives Theatre Company are coming. They will be at The Grand Theatre with their production of this long told tale, and according to The Guardian the ‘Star of the show is Simon Armitage’s propulsive, voluptuous verse, giddy on its own alliteration’.
Simon Armitage's Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
I’m often uncertain when poems and actors mix, especially when it’s a poet like Armitage who I grew up reading, hearing read, being workshopped by and occasionally bumping into at the Byram Arcade in Huddersfield. I even met my wife at a poetry reading by him! From his shared pamphlet Suitcase – with Ann Dancy (now Sansom) and Peter Sansom, through his explosive debut collection Zoom! and onwards he’s been a part of my reading life, except Sir Gawain and the Green Knight – I don’t know why I just avoided it. So you could say his work is important to me and now it’s placed in the hands of a third party – ACTORS – and understandably I worry.
The care and delicacy of a poet’s phrasing often seems trampled by a stronger dramatic urgency, but Armitage’s verse is so muscular that I suspect, I hope, it will remain intact through a theatrical rendering. I suppose the only way to know for certain is to book tickets and read the book. Put another way, in the style of Harry Hill, ‘Which is better poetry or theatre? There’s only one way to find out – Fight!’
To see the show you’ll have to visit The Grand Theatre, Lancaster between the 12th – 14th February and if you want to read it you can order the book now and we’ll deliver it to your door. If you do both, be sure to comment and let me know what you think.
Here are some theatre and poetry reviews to get you interested and get you thinking.
THEATRE
A gutsy, no-frills production – spare, down to earth and thrilling. DAILY TELEGRAPH
An unexpectedly surreal and atmospheric event – the human scale and intimacy of voices raised in a hushed gathering – allowed the poem to breathe. TIMES LITERARY SUPPLEMENT
This adaptation, ideal for family audiences, has an appealing sense of adventure, a teasing wit and a marked respect for the original medieval writer. THE STAGE
POETRY
…thanks to Simon Armitage, we have a translation that not only can you actually read for pleasure, but which also takes you back closer to something of the thrill and wonder the poem would have had in the days when it was composed. It might even be the best translation of any poem I’ve ever seen. THE GUARDIAN click for full review
This is a good and an enjoyable piece of work, but not in the same league as, for example, Seamus Heaney’s version of Beowulf. It seldom becomes truly significant poetry in its own right. For that moment you have to wait until almost the end – page 93, to be exact. THE INDEPENDENT click for full review
You can tear through it in a night or two — I couldn’t put down Simon Armitage’s compulsively readable new verse translation — and linger over it for years. THE NEW YORK TIMES click for full review
Novelist Sebastian Barry has been announced as the overall winner of the 2008 Costa Book of the Year Award for The Secret Scripture, a moving account of one woman’s stolen life and her journey to reclaim the past. Barry’s book was previously shortlisted for the 2008 Man Booker Prize.
Not wanting to turn this into a film blog, but another very good film doing the rounds. What I was particularly struck by was the simplicity of the story’s structure – assuming the novel works on the same premise … an assumption since I’ve not read it. The answers to Who Wants to Be A Millionaire questions form the basis of the plot.
Ahh the joy of simplicity: allowing a deep exploration into social and political issues, their impact on the individual, and the capacity for change – or not. I read (and go to the flicks) for these insights into how we live – us as people on this planet, our shared emotions if not shared circumstances. A building of compassion and empathy.
Which reminded me of Comma Press’s tirade I read some time back, written after, apparently, a difficult session of reading submissions. Have a read.
The last Monday in January is becoming known as Blue Monday, the day predicted to be the most miserable day of the year (see BBC News report), so in a sterling effort to stem the spread of unhappiness, Lancaster Library (the people who gave us Get It Loud in Libraries, and Vivid Arts) are holding some uplifting and cheery events featuring feel good films, live literature, light projections and Hot Chocolate!
Events kick off at 1.30pm with author Alison White in the Library, then from 4.30 in the Market Square where the projections can be seen on the City Museum.
There will also be advice available on the day from Help Direct.
It is rare I find a film so inspirational that I want to blog it on an overwhelmingly literary blog, but Waltz with Bashir is that inspirational and more.
I could prattle on about the films importance in the current world situation, with Israel beginning the withdrawal of its forces from yet another war. I could go on about how the film reminds us that Jewish fundamentalism, like its fundamentalist counterparts in Islam and Christianity, are do not represent the only story. That the stories of moderation in each of these communities offer a way in, a new “road map” that might result in something closer to the peace we dream of. Or that it is the best animated film I’ve seen, and one of three fantastic films I’ve had the chance to see at the Dukes, Lancaster in the past few weeks.
No, what I want to talk about is its design. The opening scene coloured (I want to say shot) in hot yellows and cool greys sets you up for a journey into hallucination and dream. The fabulously dream-like muted colours contrast perfectly with the exceptional whites and brights of the domestic or non-war, scenes. The magnificent angels and piercing gold flares lighting up the refugee camps add a wonder and terror in equal measures. The film is so wonderfully coloured and designed you easily forget both that this is animation – and not smooth animation at that – and that it is documentary. Characters are often drawn flat, but the city-scapes in surprising 3-d. The style draws heavily on graphic novels and should remind us of the importance of both the style and genre in today’s culture, a fact missed by many of us over 30. Look around your bookstores and find the influence more on the covers of mainstream literature and in design books than on the shelves. Hell look at the current Litfest Design.
I agree with Mark Kermode that Waltz with Bashir could, or should be, an Oscar winner, though I disagree with his opinion on the way it ends.
(See it at the Dukes Saturday 24, though if they have any sense at all, they’ll bring it back post Oscars.)
We came across this fabulous video made by Publishers 4th Estate late last year, and wanted to share it with you all as we all think it’s just the bees knees!
I came across this lovely piece of book sculpture this afternoon and decided to share it in the hope of persuading the Artistic Director to commission something similar for Litfest.
It seems ages since I’ve had a pile of short stories/novel extracts to read through for the next Flax anthology – the last time was for the poster commissions. I approach the pile tentatively. It could contain absolutely anything, which is, of course, potentially thrilling. The flip side is the fear of wading through story after story of half-formed ideas, or cliche-ridden writing that blunts my brain. As with most worries (according to my mother at least), this generally fails to materialise. What I love about the fiction submissions is that what I read is usually highly polished, considered work, clearly written by people with a passion for the form. And what a form. Chekhov claimed short stories should be like a ’shot of vodka’. Ali Smith reckoned they could take the shirts off our backs. Raymond Carver, according to this, had a thing about doughnuts and we all know how heralded he is in the art.
So, by all accounts by the end of the afternoon, I should be wandering around half-naked, sugary-lipped and pissed. yeah yeah. Thank you.
Litfest
