16-Year-Old Marcel Proust Tells His Grandfather About His Misguided Adventures at the Local Brothel

ProustLetter

“One can say any­thing so long as one does not say ‘I.’ ” Mar­cel Proust wrote these words to his fel­low French­man of let­ters André Gide, and they con­sti­tute valu­able advice for any nov­el­ist as well as a use­ful key to under­stand­ing Proust’s own work. We think of Proust — espe­cial­ly today, the hun­dredth anniver­sary of Swan­n’s Way, which opens his mas­ter­work Remem­brance of Things Past (À la recherche du temps per­du) — as an impor­tant French nov­el­ist, an impor­tant mod­ern nov­el­ist, an impor­tant fin-de-siè­cle nov­el­ist, and so on. We also think of Proust as an impor­tant gay nov­el­ist.  And we owe that, in some sense, to Gide, who revealed the clos­et­ed Proust’s homo­sex­u­al­i­ty in their pub­lished cor­re­spon­dence after Proust’s death. Sex­u­al­i­ty has since become a major ele­ment of the robust field of Proust crit­i­cism, and the let­ter above sure­ly gives its schol­ars mate­r­i­al — or at least those schol­ars will­ing to exam­ine the author’s biog­ra­phy along­side his work.

The author of Remem­brance of Things Past once suf­fered, accord­ing to Let­ters of Note, from an obses­sion with mas­tur­ba­tion. “As a teenag­er this caused prob­lems for his fam­i­ly, not least his father, a pro­fes­sor of hygiene, who like many of the day believed that such a wor­ry­ing habit could cause homo­sex­u­al­i­ty if left unchecked.” Giv­en 10 francs by Proust père, Mar­cel went off to the neigh­bor­hood broth­el to, in the­o­ry, get him­self set straight. And the out­come of this “cure”? We defer to the six­teen-year-old Proust him­self, who in the let­ter above tells the whole sor­did sto­ry to his grand­fa­ther:

18 May 1888

Thurs­day evening.

My dear lit­tle grand­fa­ther,

I appeal to your kind­ness for the sum of 13 francs that I wished to ask Mr. Nathan for, but which Mama prefers I request from you. Here is why. I so need­ed to see if a woman could stop my awful mas­tur­ba­tion habit that Papa gave me 10 francs to go to a broth­el. But first, in my agi­ta­tion, I broke a cham­ber pot: 3 francs; then, still agi­tat­ed, I was unable to screw. So here I am, back to square one, wait­ing more and more as hours pass for 10 francs to relieve myself, plus 3 francs for the pot. But I dare not ask Papa for more mon­ey so soon and so I hoped you could come to my aid in a cir­cum­stance which, as you know, is not mere­ly excep­tion­al but also unique. It can­not hap­pen twice in one life­time that a per­son is too flus­tered to screw.

I kiss you a thou­sand times and dare to thank you in advance.

I will be home tomor­row morn­ing at 11am. If you are moved by my sit­u­a­tion and can answer my prayers, I will hope­ful­ly find you with the amount. Regard­less, thank you for your deci­sion which I know will come from a place of friend­ship.

Mar­cel.

Many thanks to Let­ters of Note for uncov­er­ing this illu­mi­nat­ing and — inten­tion­al­ly? unin­ten­tion­al­ly? — comedic piece of cor­re­spon­dence from lit­er­ary his­to­ry, and to Fabi­en Bon­net and Larst Onovich, to whom Let­ters of Note, in turn, gives cred­it.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Supreme Court Jus­tice Stephen Brey­er Dis­cuss­es His Love for Read­ing Proust, and Why “Lit­er­a­ture is Cru­cial to Any Democ­ra­cy”

Watch Mon­ty Python’s “Sum­ma­rize Proust Com­pe­ti­tion” on the 100th Anniver­sary of Swann’s Way

Lis­ten­ing to Proust’s Remem­brance of Things Past, (Maybe) the Longest Audio Book Ever Made

Free eBooks: Read All of Proust’s Remem­brance of Things Past on the Cen­ten­ni­al of Swann’s Way

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

The Black Rider: A Theatrical Production by Tom Waits, William S. Burroughs & Robert Wilson (1990)

Yes, you read cor­rect­ly: there exists a piece of the­ater whose pro­duc­tion brought togeth­er three of the most ardent­ly-fol­lowed, icon­o­clas­tic cre­ators of recent decades. First staged in 1990 at Ham­burg’s Thalia The­ater, The Black Rid­er: The Cast­ing of the Mag­ic Bul­lets appeared as the fruit of mul­ti­dis­ci­pli­nary labor from renowned avant-garde direc­tor Robert Wil­son, best known for extra-long-form pro­duc­tions like Ein­stein on the Beach, cre­at­ed with Philip Glass; ragged­ly Amer­i­can singer-song­writer Tom Waits, a musi­cian with no small the­atri­cal bent him­self; and William S. Bur­roughs, writer of Naked LunchJunkie, and oth­er texts that have blown away gen­er­a­tions of coun­ter­cul­tur­al­ly inclined read­ing minds. They based their tale of a hap­less young file clerk in love and his fate­ful pact with the dev­il on the Ger­man folk­tale-cum-opera Der Freis­chütz. Hence the work’s pre­miere in Ger­many, and the Ger­man dia­logue in the tele­vi­sion ver­sion of the full pro­duc­tion above.

But wor­ry not, non-Ger­manophones; the Waits-com­posed songs remain in Eng­lish, and as with any­thing direct­ed by Wil­son, you buy the tick­et as much to a strik­ing pure visu­al expe­ri­ence as to any­thing else. You can hear and see more from Waits and Wil­son about what went into The Black Rid­er in the half-hour TV doc­u­men­tary just above. (The nar­ra­tor may speak Ger­man, but every­one else involved speaks Eng­lish.) For a pure musi­cal expe­ri­ence of The Black Rid­er, pull up Waits’ epony­mous album, released in 1993(See also the boot­leg The Black Rid­er Out­takes.) And now, with twen­ty years’ dis­tance from The Black Rid­er’s Amer­i­can debut, maybe we can put the ques­tion to our­selves of whether it counts as a streak of poor taste or a stroke of artis­tic genius to have Bur­roughs, of all peo­ple, pen his own ver­sion of a sto­ry that — spoil­er alert — ends with the pro­tag­o­nist fat­ed to shoot his own bride.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

John­ny Depp: A Voom Por­trait by Robert Wil­son

Watch Big Time, the Con­cert Film Cap­tur­ing Tom Waits on His Best Tour Ever (1988)

William S. Bur­roughs Explains What Artists & Cre­ative Thinkers Do for Human­i­ty: From Galileo to Cézanne and James Joyce

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Everything You Wanted to Know About the L.A. Aqueduct That Made Roman Polanski’s Chinatown Famous: A New UCLA Archive

chinatown-nicholson

Next year marks the 40th anniver­sary of a mod­ern clas­sic, Roman Polanski’s Chi­na­town. And sure­ly no oth­er film has even come close to mak­ing the con­struc­tion of an aque­duct so thrilling.

For sure, the siz­able serv­ings of incest, cor­rup­tion, and greed help car­ry Robert Towne’s bril­liant screen­play. But under Towne’s script are the bones of anoth­er sto­ry, the sto­ry of an engi­neer­ing feat that eclipsed the Pana­ma Canal. Yes we’re talk­ing about the build­ing of the great Los Ange­les aque­duct start­ing in 1908.

In the pref­ace to the script Towne wrote this, “the great crimes in Cal­i­for­nia have been com­mit­ted against the land—and against the peo­ple who own it and future gen­er­a­tions. It was only nat­ur­al that the script should evolve into the sto­ry of a man who raped the land and his own daugh­ter.”

Towne didn’t wor­ry about stick­ing to the facts (he set the action of Chi­na­town in the 1930s—an inher­ent­ly more glam­orous peri­od, espe­cial­ly in Los Ange­les). Some even argue that the film cre­ates an entire­ly dif­fer­ent (and wrong) his­to­ry of the project that is remem­bered as fact.

UCLA has cre­at­ed the Los Ange­les Aque­duct Dig­i­tal Plat­form, a col­lec­tion of arti­cles, maps, images and gen­er­al his­to­ry of the project and time that sets the record straight. Among its great­est resources are those about the film that made South­ern Cal­i­for­ni­a’s water issues famous. In fact, there is an abun­dance of infor­ma­tion about the film itself, even if it wasn’t his­tor­i­cal­ly accu­rate.

There are links to, among oth­er resources, a con­ver­sa­tion with Robert Towne where he dis­cuss­es his inspi­ra­tion for the screen­play.

The real gem, how­ev­er, is the link to a lit­tle-known but ter­rif­ic British doc­u­men­tary about Polan­s­ki (above) in which he says that Chi­na­town was his best film. The doc­u­men­tary was made in 2000, before Polan­s­ki won the Oscar for The Pianist.

Kate Rix writes about dig­i­tal media and edu­ca­tion. Fol­low her on Twit­ter.

Designers of the Invisible Bike Helmet Describe Their Revolutionary Product in Short Documentary

It’s been all over the news recent­ly: two Swedish design stu­dents, Anna Haupt and Terese Alstin, have cre­at­ed what they call an “invis­i­ble bike hel­met.” This descrip­tion is a lit­tle mis­lead­ing. The Hövd­ing, as it’s been brand­ed, is not invis­i­ble so much as it’s con­tained, in a puffy, high tech col­lar, as an airbag that deploys upon impact and pro­tects the wear­er from the typ­i­cal head trau­ma cyclists suf­fer in acci­dents.

Work­ing with a head trau­ma spe­cial­ist and stag­ing acci­dents to col­lect move­ment pat­terns, Haupt and Alstin defi­ant­ly took on what they saw as a male-dom­i­nat­ed design estab­lish­ment. “Easy,” they say, “it only took us sev­en years.” They raised ten mil­lion dol­lars and pushed for­ward with a cer­tain amount of Scan­di­na­vian brava­do. The short doc above opens with a few quotes from the pair. “We’re going to save the world,” they tell us, “it’s chick­en to be a real­ist.” Upon see­ing their design, they say, a pro­fes­sor remarked (in Eng­lish), “I have to sit down… you’re going to be mil­lion­aires.”

Haupt and Alstin’s bom­bast is seduc­tive, but the prod­uct may not live up to the hype quite yet. As Tech Crunch report­ed last year, “Hövd­ing costs $600 and only works once. There’s also been some com­plaints about the design and an ear­ly ver­sion had trou­ble with the zip­per.” Nonethe­less, it’s still an amaz­ing inven­tion that will only improve with future real world test­ing. At present, it could save the lives of those well-heeled cyclists who can’t stand to wear clunky, tra­di­tion­al bike hel­mets. In Europe, at least, where the hel­met is cur­rent­ly for sale and safe­ty approved.

The video above was made by direc­tor Fredrik Gert­ton, who has suc­cess­ful­ly Kick­start­ed an advo­ca­cy film he calls Bikes Vs. Cars that seems well worth a look for those con­cerned about the future of urban trans­porta­tion.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Sci­ence Behind the Bike: Four Videos from the Open Uni­ver­si­ty on the Eve of the Tour de France

Brus­sels Express: The Per­ils of Cycling in Europe’s Most Con­gest­ed City

David Byrne: From Talk­ing Heads Front­man to Lead­ing Urban Cyclist

The Physics of the Bike

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Timothy Leary Plans a Neuromancer Video Game, with Art by Keith Haring, Music by Devo & Cameos by David Byrne

Few sci­ence fic­tion nov­els have res­onat­ed as strong­ly with pop­u­lar cul­ture as William Gibson’s Neu­ro­mancer (1984). The book, where­in the first trick­les of Inter­net cul­ture coa­lesced into the grit­ty film noir world so dear to read­ers of Philip K. Dick, became one of the sem­i­nal reads of the 1980s. The cyber­punk genre was born.

Since its appear­ance, Gibson’s work has con­tin­u­ous­ly echoed in pop­u­lar cul­ture. While movies have tried to dis­till his impend­ing, tech-filled dystopi­anism, the most appro­pri­ate, if not the most strik­ing trib­utes, have come in the form of video games. From 1993’s Shad­owrun, to the somber mix of con­spir­a­cy and tech­nol­o­gy of the Deus Ex tril­o­gy, video games were inher­ent­ly suit­ed to the visu­al por­tray­al of cyber­punk. The most ambi­tious of these was spear­head­ed by one of counterculture’s most promi­nent pro­po­nents: Dr. Tim­o­thy Leary.

Leary is best known as the psy­chol­o­gist who cham­pi­oned LSD and psilo­cy­bin use, engag­ing in metic­u­lous research—both per­son­al and professional—of their effects. By the 1980s, the same Leary who had pop­u­lar­ized the phrase “turn on, tune in, drop out” was now pros­e­ly­tiz­ing com­put­er use with the phrase “turn on, boot up, jack in.” To those who doubt­ed his about-face, Leary declared, “the PC is the LSD of the 1990s.”

byrne video game

In addi­tion to hav­ing cre­at­ed sev­er­al tran­scen­den­tal com­put­er games of his own design (a ver­sion of Mind Mir­ror, where play­ers improve their per­son­al­i­ties, sold 65,000 copies under Elec­tron­ic Arts, and is avail­able on Face­book), Leary had plans to build a for­mi­da­ble ver­sion of Neu­ro­mancer. As you can see in this clip, he was an ardent Gib­son fan; not sur­pris­ing, con­sid­er­ing the self-bet­ter­ment that emerged from the fusion of tech­nol­o­gy and human­i­ty in Gibson’s work.

haring diskIn the clip above, the New York Pub­lic Library’s Don­ald Men­ner­ich dis­cuss­es his archival work on Leary’s unfin­ished game, which was recent­ly unearthed by Leary’s estate. Although he had made lit­tle head­way, Leary had a grandiose design for his “mind movie:” Devo would han­dle the music, Kei­th Har­ing would take care of the visu­als, and Hel­mut New­ton would include his pho­tog­ra­phy. Two char­ac­ters were based on Grace Jones and David Byrne. The sto­ry was to be writ­ten by Leary, along­side William S. Bur­roughs.

While Leary’s Neu­ro­mancer failed to mate­ri­al­ize, a ver­sion of the game was lat­er made by Inter­play. Although most of the big names had dropped off the ros­ter, Devo’s “Some Things Nev­er Change” was still used as the theme. And, while Leary’s oeu­vre lies in the archives, the game­play from Interplay’s ver­sion, seen here, is still good for a hit of ‘80s nos­tal­gia.

Via Kotaku

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How to Oper­ate Your Brain: A User Man­u­al by Tim­o­thy Leary (1993)

Free Philip K. Dick: Down­load 13 Great Sci­ence Fic­tion Sto­ries

Run Vin­tage Video Games (From Pac-Man to E.T.) and Soft­ware in Your Web Brows­er, Thanks to Archive.org

Beyond Tim­o­thy Leary: 2002 Film Revis­its His­to­ry of LSD

Watch Animated Sheet Music for Miles Davis’ “So What,” Charlie Parker’s “Confirmation” & Coltrane’s “Giant Steps”

Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue changed jazz. It changed music, peri­od. So I take it very seri­ous­ly. But when I see the ani­mat­ed sheet music of the first cut, “So What,” I can’t help but think of Charles Schultz’s Peanuts car­toons, and their Vince Guaral­di com­po­si­tions. I mean no offense to Miles. His modal jazz swings, and it’s fun, as fun to lis­ten to as it is to watch in ris­ing and falling arpeg­gios. The YouTube uploader, Dan Cohen, gives us this on his chan­nel Ani­mat­ed Sheet Music, with apolo­gies to Jim­my Cobb for the lack of drum nota­tion.

Also from Cohen’s chan­nel, we have Char­lie Parker’s music ani­mat­ed. Nev­er one to keep up with his admin, Park­er left his estate unable to recu­per­ate roy­al­ties from com­po­si­tions like “Con­fir­ma­tion” (above).

Nonethe­less, every­one knows it’s Bird’s tune, and to see it ani­mat­ed above is to see Park­er dance a very dif­fer­ent step than Miles’ post-bop cool, one filled with com­plex melod­ic para­graphs instead of chordal phras­es.

And above, we have John Coltrane’s mas­sive “Giant Steps,” with its rapid-fire bursts of quar­ter notes, inter­rupt­ed by half-note asides. Coltrane’s icon­ic 1960 com­po­si­tion dis­plays what Ira Gitler called in a 1958 Down­beat piece, “sheets of sound.” Gitler has said the image he had in his head was of “bolts of cloth undu­lat­ing as they unfurled,” but he might just as well have thought of sheets of rain, so mul­ti­tude and heavy is Coltrane’s melod­ic attack.

See Cohen’s Ani­mat­ed Sheet Music chan­nel for two more Char­lie Park­er pieces, “Au Pri­vave” and “Bloom­di­do.”

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Miles Davis Plays Music from Kind of Blue Live in 1959, Intro­duc­ing a Com­plete­ly New Style of Jazz

Char­lie Park­er Plays with Jazz Greats Cole­man Hawkins, Bud­dy Rich, Lester Young & Ella Fitzger­ald (1950)

John Coltrane’s Hand­writ­ten Out­line for His Mas­ter­piece A Love Supreme

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Joseph Brodsky’s List of 83 Books You Should Read to Have an Intelligent Conversation

Josef_Brodsky_Michigan

In 1955, a mere two months into eighth grade, a 15-year-old teenag­er dropped out of a Leningrad school. He had already repeat­ed sev­enth grade; the thought of anoth­er bor­ing year was unbear­able. He wan­dered into work at a fac­to­ry, but only last­ed six months. For the next sev­en years, he drift­ed in and out of menial jobs at a light­house, a crys­tal­log­ra­phy lab, and a morgue. For a time, he worked as a man­u­al labor­er on geo­log­i­cal expe­di­tions and as a stok­er at a pub­lic bath­house. Still, it wasn’t a whol­ly inaus­pi­cious start—by the end of his life, he had taught at Yale, Colum­bia, Cam­bridge, Michi­gan, and Mount Holyoke. He had also been award­ed the Nobel Prize for lit­er­a­ture.

Despite spurn­ing his own for­mal edu­ca­tion, Russ­ian poet and Sovi­et dis­si­dent Joseph Brod­sky imme­di­ate­ly rose to the high­est aca­d­e­m­ic ech­e­lon when he arrived in Amer­i­ca in 1972. By all accounts, the auto­di­dact held his class­es to a high stan­dard, fre­quent­ly dis­miss­ing any stu­dent argu­ments about lit­er­ary great­ness unless they cen­tered on Milosz, Low­ell, or Auden.

Mon­i­ca Par­tridge, a for­mer stu­dent in his class, told Open Cul­ture, “I took a poet­ry class with [Joseph Brod­sky] at Mount Holyoke Col­lege my fresh­man year… It was all 19th [cen­tu­ry] Russ­ian poet­ry, and he would give us four pages of poems to mem­o­rize overnight. We would have to come in the next [morn­ing] and tran­scribe the poems we had mem­o­rized. Very Russ­ian.”

No less impres­sive was the list of books that Brod­sky dis­trib­uted to Partridge’s class.

1.   Bha­gavad Gita
2.   Mahab­hara­ta
3.   Gil­gamesh
4.   The Old Tes­ta­ment
5.   Homer: Ili­ad, Odyssey
6.   Herodotus: His­to­ries
7.   Sopho­cles: Plays
8.   Aeschy­lus: Plays
9.   Euripi­des: Plays (Hip­poly­tus, The Bachantes, Elec­tra, The Phoeni­cian Women)
10. Thucy­dides: The Pelo­pon­nesian War
11. Pla­to: Dia­logues
12. Aris­to­tle: Poet­ics, Physics, Ethics, De Ani­ma
13. Alexan­dri­an Poet­ry: The Greek Anthol­o­gy
14. Lucretius: On the Nature of Things
15. Plutarch: Lives [pre­sum­ably Par­al­lel Lives]
16. Vir­gil: Aeneid, Bucol­ics, Geor­gics
17. Tac­i­tus: Annals
18. Ovid: Meta­mor­phoses, Hero­ides, Amores
19. The New Tes­ta­ment
20. Sue­to­nius: The Twelve Cae­sars
21. Mar­cus Aure­lius: Med­i­ta­tions
22. Cat­ul­lus: Poems
23. Horace: Poems
24. Epicte­tus: Dis­cours­es
25. Aristo­phanes: Plays
26. Claudius Aelianus: His­tor­i­cal Mis­cel­lany, On the Nature of Ani­mals
27. Apol­lo­nius Rhodius: Arg­onau­ti­ca
28. Michael Psel­lus: Four­teen Byzan­tine Rulers
29. Edward Gib­bon: The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire
30. Plot­i­nus: The Enneads
31. Euse­bius: Eccle­si­as­ti­cal His­to­ry
32. Boethius: Con­so­la­tions of Phi­los­o­phy
33. Pliny the Younger: Let­ters
34. Byzan­tine verse romances
35. Her­a­cli­tus: Frag­ments
36. St. Augus­tine: Con­fes­sions
37. Thomas Aquinas: Sum­ma The­o­log­i­ca
38. St. Fran­cis of Assisi: The Lit­tle Flow­ers
39. Nic­colò Machi­avel­li: The Prince
40. Dante Alighieri: Divine Com­e­dy (Tr. By John Cia­r­di)
41. Fran­co Sac­chet­ti: Nov­el­le
42. Ice­landic sagas
43. William Shake­speare (Antho­ny and Cleopa­tra, Ham­let, Mac­beth, Hen­ry V)
44. François Rabelais
45. Fran­cis Bacon
46. Mar­tin Luther: Select­ed Works
47. John Calvin:  Insti­tu­tio Chris­tianae reli­gio­n­is
48. Michel de Mon­taigne: Essays
49. Miguel de Cer­vantes: Don Quixote
50. René Descartes: Dis­cours­es
51. Song of Roland
52. Beowulf
53. Ben­venu­to Celli­ni
54. Hen­ry Adams: Edu­ca­tion of Hen­ry Adams
55. Thomas Hobbes: The Leviathan
56. Blaise Pas­cal: Pen­sées
57. John Mil­ton: Par­adise Lost
58. John Donne
59. Andrew Mar­vell
60. George Her­bert
61. Richard Crashaw
62. Baruch Spin­oza: Trea­tis­es
63. Stend­hal: Char­ter­house of Par­ma, Red and Black, The Life of Hen­ry Bru­lard 
64. Jonathan Swift: Gulliver’s Trav­els
65. Lau­rence Sterne: Tris­tram Shandy
66. Choder­los de Lac­los: Les Liaisons Dan­gereuses
67.  Baron de Mon­tesquieu: Per­sian Let­ters
68. John Locke: Sec­ond Trea­tise on Gov­ern­ment
69. Adam Smith: The Wealth of Nations
70. Got­tfried Wil­helm Leib­niz: Dis­course on Meta­physics
71. David Hume: Every­thing
72. The Fed­er­al­ist Papers
73. Immanuel Kant: Cri­tique of Pure Rea­son
74. Søren Kierkegaard: Fear and Trem­bling, Either/Or, Philo­soph­i­cal Frag­ments
75. Fyo­dor Dos­to­evsky: Notes From the Under­ground, The Pos­sessed
76. Alex­is de Toc­queville: Democ­ra­cy in Amer­i­ca
77. Johann Wolf­gang von Goethe: Faust, Ital­ian Jour­ney
78. Astolphe-Louis-Léonor, Mar­quis de Cus­tine: Empire of the Czar: A Jour­ney Through Eter­nal Rus­sia
79. Eric Auer­bach: Mime­sis
80. William H. Prescott: Con­quest of Mex­i­co
81. Octavio Paz: Labyrinths of Soli­tude
82. Sir Karl Pop­per: The Log­ic of Sci­en­tif­ic Dis­cov­ery, The Open Soci­ety and Its Ene­mies
83. Elias Canet­ti: Crowds and Pow­er

“Short­ly after the class began, he passed out a hand­writ­ten list of books that he said every per­son should have read in order to have a basic con­ver­sa­tion,” Par­tridge writes on the Brod­sky Read­ing Group blog.  “At the time I was think­ing, ‘Con­ver­sa­tion about what?’ I knew I’d nev­er be able to have a con­ver­sa­tion with him, because I nev­er thought I’d ever get through the list. Now that I’ve had a lit­tle liv­ing, I under­stand what he was talk­ing about. Intel­li­gent con­ver­sa­tion is good. In fact, maybe we all need a lit­tle more.”

In addi­tion to the poet­’s 1988 Uni­ver­si­ty of Michi­gan com­mence­ment address that we post­ed last week, we bring you Joseph Brodsky’s req­ui­site read­ing list, anno­tat­ed with the poet’s hand­writ­ten notes.

Note: You can click each image to read them in a larg­er for­mat.

Brodsky List 1_web_without notes 

Brodsky List 2_web

Brodsky List 3_web

Brodsky List 4_web

Brodsky List 5_web

Get read­ing, friends.

Via Brod­sky Read­ing Group, and with the deep­est grat­i­tude to Mon­i­ca Par­tridge, who pro­vid­ed pho­tographs of the orig­i­nal. Props go to Stan­ford for the typed out list of books.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

W.H. Auden’s 1941 Lit­er­a­ture Syl­labus Asks Stu­dents to Read 32 Great Works, Cov­er­ing 6000 Pages

Neil deGrasse Tyson Lists 8 (Free) Books Every Intel­li­gent Per­son Should Read

Ernest Hemingway’s List for a Young Writer

Carl Sagan’s Under­grad Read­ing List: 40 Essen­tial Texts for a Well-Round­ed Thinker

David Fos­ter Wallace’s 1994 Syl­labus: How to Teach Seri­ous Lit­er­a­ture with Light­weight Books

Ilia Blin­d­er­man is a Mon­tre­al-based cul­ture and sci­ence write. Fol­low him at @iliablinderman.

The Kinks’ Ray Davies Reviews the Beatles’ 1966 Album Revolver; Calls It “A Load of Rubbish”

DaviesRevolver

The Bea­t­les’ Revolver has gar­nered some of the high­est prais­es rock crit­ics can offer. But not every­one loved the record when it came out. In a 1966 issue of Disc and Music Echo mag­a­zine, the Kinks’ Ray Davies wrote a snarky, unspar­ing review of the album, tack­ling each song in a few sen­tences. In high con­trast to the cur­rent sen­ti­ments of Rolling Stone or All­mu­sic, Davies only seems to have liked a few tracks, and those the most tra­di­tion­al­ly upbeat: He called “I’m Only Sleep­ing,” “a most beau­ti­ful song” and “the best track on the album.” He also quite liked “Good Day Sun­shine,” writ­ing “this is back to the real old Bea­t­les. I just don’t like the elec­tron­ic stuff. The Bea­t­les were sup­posed to be like the boy next door only bet­ter.” And “Here There and Every­where” Davies calls the “third best track on the album.”

That’s most­ly the end of Davies’ felic­i­ty. His review sav­ages some of the most pop­u­lar songs on the record. Of “Eleanor Rig­by” he writes. “it sounds like they’re out to please music teach­ers in pri­ma­ry schools.” The best he can bring him­self to say of the track is that “it’s very com­mer­cial.” “Yel­low Sub­ma­rine,” Davies writes, “is a load of rub­bish, real­ly.” And his take on the trip­py “Tomor­row Nev­er Knows” cuts the song’s ambi­tions down to size: “Lis­ten to all those crazy sounds! It’ll be pop­u­lar in dis­cothe­ques. I can imag­ine they had George Mar­tin tied to a totem pole when they did this.” Maybe the cranky Davies was moti­vat­ed by pro­fes­sion­al jeal­ousy; maybe he’s one of the most hon­est review­ers of the record—his take uncol­ored by starstruck­ness. Who knows? He does admit that it’s “the first Bea­t­les LP I’ve real­ly lis­tened to in its entire­ty.” Read Davies’ full review here.

via Dan­ger­ous Minds

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear the Iso­lat­ed Vocal Tracks for The Bea­t­les’ Cli­mac­tic 16-Minute Med­ley on Abbey Road

The 10-Minute, Nev­er-Released, Exper­i­men­tal Demo of The Bea­t­les’ “Rev­o­lu­tion” (1968)

The Bea­t­les: Unplugged Col­lects Acoustic Demos of White Album Songs (1968)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast
Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.