Pedro Juan Gutiérrez - The Insatiable Spiderman

Just finished reading 'The Insatiable Spiderman' by Pedro Juan Gutiérrez, a collection of short stories by the Cuban author who wrote 'Dirty Havana Trilogy' in 2001. Having been excited to see another book written by him, I was disappointed as the stories seem a bit monotonous, lacking the power and intensity of his previous novels published in English (Dirty Havana Trilogy and Tropical Animal ). Maybe he is loosing his juice !

Dirty Havana Trilogy was by far the best, a powerful book, like a sharp scalpel slicing open the ripe underbelly of Cuba, spilling out the poverty, hardship, degradation and squalor that most Cubans endure in their lives there.... an insightful, shit-smeared, somewhat Milleresque, torrid, sexually charged portrait of life that most tourists who go to Havana are totally unaware of. An excerpt can be read here.

Pedro Juan Gutiérrez has written several other books and some poetry, but unfortunately not published in English. I still look forward to reading more from him.

Tags: Pedro Juan Gutiérrez
Dirty Havana Trilogy
Havana

Las Alpujarras moment

Lime washed walls and pink bougainvillea entwine, as peach sunrises kiss cobalt dawns... an ensalada mixte mind, wandering... ensconced in the daily torrid blaze.... the crickets creak and crackle - an eerie sound reverberating in the mountains.
The Alpujarras held a certain unreality, a kind of displaced detachment, a smattering of scattered adobes stuck into the mountain.... violet shades of rock and rustic dawns.... blue flowers smiling for a while.... then puckered dry by noon.

Butchering literature via text messaging

It appears that a university professor at UCL has converted English literature classics such as Pride and Prejudice and Romeo and Juliet into condensed text messages as a form of study aids for students. A sad reflection of the times!

FeudTween 2hses- Montague&Capulet. RomeoMfalls_
<3w/_julietc@mary>J fakes Death. As Part of Plan2b-w/R Bt_leter Bt It Nvr Reachs Him
Evry1confuzd-bothLuvrs kil Emselves

Though I am a big fan of modern technology I find this quite appalling. Is this what today's education has been reduced to? Perhaps it reflects the enormous text message fetish that is prevalent amongst the generation below mine; they can only absorb condensed information in a text message format instead of reading and writing as they spend most of their time text messaging in a fucked up abbreviated tongue instead of improving their facility for the English language. Learn the language first, then fuck it up if u wnt 2 !

Maybe it is modern technology that has destroyed their ability to focus, being blasted at a very young age by computer games, mindless television, additive net surfing and text messaging. Without sounding like an old fart, I’m glad I can read a lot, write, and maintain a current focus on today’s technology. It seems we are going backwards while trying to go forwards.

Silence and the Man with the Olive Arm

"People who have found true knowledge fall silent. If I were a philosopher I would stop painting; I'd do nothing at all. That would be the silence of Zen.The only thing to do is to carry on searching for the light: I haven't found it yet, and that's why I paint." - Antoni Tàpies , from Barbara Catoir's 'Conversations with Antoni Tàpies'.

In 1949 Nelson Algren wrote "The Man with The Golden Arm " , i currently feel like the man with the Olive Arm , fucking exhausted having relentlessly picked olives for days....silent in general (not the silence of Zen) and certainly not from finding true knowledge or quiescent under the leafy cool tranquility of an ancient olive tree as i would prefer to spend my afternoons ...or in a state of priapic bliss experienced under the pepper tree.....instead of constant blurred images of black olives when i close my eyes with the faint thunder of the brimstone steed in the distance. Perhaps i should add an inane NaNowrimo style counter here ....... 21,693 olives picked ... updating frequently and boring the shit out of any kind soul that reads here.

Tag: Antoni Tàpies

Desert stultification

Wading through the bilious sludge of a week’s mental stultification, the monotonous coins rattling… cast asunder, in the mordant vessels of the beggars in my mind….time lurching forwards, towards the perilous descent to the Fatherland … momentary solace, plunging in the heated emerald kidney stirring up the stagnant liver… basking in the pre-winter sun… a tinge of joie de vivre returns… lost in the verdant solitude of the Arbequinas….149 trees to be picked and sent to their cold-press extra virgin heaven, all for the promise of delicate gold 0.1%…skulking voles nibbling the fallen almonds, in the parched and dusty river beds of Tabernas… minimal human contact for the extroverted being…. the desert dance is taking its toll….

Block

Picking olives under a blazing, fiery mackerel sunset, the Arbequina drips softly to the net below….

I sit silent, constipated in the lavatory of my mind …..waiting for the words to float by….....