Selling Sno-Cones at the Beach

cinematic debris

I saw some experimental films tonight at the film festival, films that exploit the natural disintegration of nitrate emulsion to, what? Play a narrative role? Or – conversely - question the primacy of narrative in film?

I dislike the self-congratulatory flavor of critics of this sort of work – as if THEY have achieved something by understanding it, by recognizing basic themes (that, truth be told, are obvious to anyone with some training in the visual arts), by speaking about it in words that end frequently in –ment or –tion and in sentences that have no obvious agent.

Which brings me to my second point of the evening: I was so annoyed and frustrated by reading this sort of criticism that I had to assuage my jangled nerves by taking a dip in the cool waters of Joseph Williams’ book Style: Ten Lessons in Clarity and Grace, and reminding myself that elegant prose is, if increasingly hard to find, still achievable with some effort and analytical willpower. Not that academics in general find this an interesting or worthwhile goal.

Before I started this doctoral program in Geography, I was in a masters program in English Literature, strictly for the love of it, with no need to get the degree or take the requisite courses, or any of the other quotidian matters that plagued my colleagues. I can honestly say that being there, in that program, was one of the true gifts of my life. I made some good friends there, and the lessons I learned there I will always remember.