Mallarmé On Fashion by Tosh Berman

 

Mallarmé on Fashion by Tosh Berman

Tosh's Journal: August 26

Tosh's Journal: August 26 - The making of "Plum in Mr. Blum's Pudding"

Rod McKuen on Tosh Talks

Rod McKuen on Tosh Talks



The first show where I focus on an artist that I really don't care about, or do I?  Rod McKuen on the surface is the sort of figure that I never cared for, yet, as I dig deep into some aspects of his work, I'm interested in the connections he has between himself and Jacques Brel, David Bowie, the Beat Generation, Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsburg, Gregory Corso, and the whole fake "Beatnik"world, with respect to an early album by McKuen, "Beatsville."  The number one selling poet in the 1960s and 1970s, who wrote terrible poetry, is still, as one scratches on the surface, I find something of greatly interesting about his life.  Which shows, that all artists have some sort of spark that one may miss or not be aware of.  "Tosh Talks" Tosh Berman.

"Mallarmé on Fashion" by Stéphane Mallarmé (Edited and translated by P.N. Burbank & A.M. Cain)

ISBN: 9781859737231 Berg

The only reason I would be reading a book about a French fashion magazine that existed in 1874, is if there is something odd about the magazine and its editor.   In two words: Stéphane Mallarmé.    Whatever mysterious reason, Mallarmé, who is without a doubt one of the great poets that came from France, had a job where he not only edited, but also wrote the entire magazine, using various alias.    He managed to produce eight copies of "La Dernière Mode."   "Mallarmé on Fashion" is a pretty interesting book on multi-levels.  One, is the thought of such an avant-garde poet of his time and place, working on a fashion magazine in such complete control, as well as a bit of fashion history, but also the importance of fashion in French culture.   Especially in the 19th century.

Mallarmé writes as a woman as well as a man in this magazine.   The magazine is very formalized in its format.     As "Madame de Ponty" she writes about contemporary fashion trends in Paris, and elsewhere.   As "Ix" (now that is a mysterious name) he's a stuffy theater and book critic, and mostly has a certain amount of anger about music taking over text on the Parisian stage, and then there a food section, where they have elaborated menus and recipes.   There is also a correspondence section, whereas the editor, he gives fashion advice, and also a travel section as well, recommending travel points and where to stay on vacation.   At the end of the issue, Mallarmé offerer what is best in Parisian entertainment for that month or season.   He covers everything from music hall entertainment, opera to city parks.   It is very much like Time Out or Los Angeles Weekly directory.

Stéphane Mallarmé

Mallarmé was known to be interested in the decorative arts, so it's not a huge surprise that he would write about interior design of rooms, but his intense knowledge of fashion is totally new to me.   In an odd way, Mallarmé is actually critiquing the fashion world, but even more so, the fashion magazine.   I think he sees it as a window to what is happening culture wise - so readers now, get a unique portrait of Paris 1874, through the eyes of Mallarmé, but him using various identities to convey that world.  Again, it is clearly not known why he did this. It could have been for a paycheck, but it is interesting that he did so, by not just writing one column, or as editor - but doing it all!   In many ways, it was an upscale zine of its time.  He wanted to do more than eight issues, but the publisher (not him) pulled the plug on the project.

La Dernière Mode, 1874 (Edited and written by Mallarmé

"Mallarmé on Fashion" is very much a scholarly text book, and is geared for the lit-crit lunatic, but it is also an essential book on anyone studying Parisian culture of the 19th century as well as what 'pop culture' was like in those days.  Editors and translators P.N. Burbank and A.M. Cain do a great job in presenting Mallarmé in the hard (not delicate) world of high and low fashion.   Fascinating book.

- Tosh Berman

August 26, 2014

August 26, 2014

I wrote a perfect book of poems called “The Plum in Mr. Blum’s Pudding” 25 years ago, and for the life (or death) of me I can’t write another poem since then.  The truth is the fact that it took me years to get to the point in writing that book, which didn’t take that long for me to write.  Maybe in six months?  I wrote most, if not all, while I was in Moji-Ko, Japan.  What excites me about poetry is the intensity of both the practice and the form.  It’s a snapshot of the world, where one doesn’t have to continue to worry about narration.  All my early poems were in a sense the basis of the poetry in the Plum book.  It didn’t happen, but I had to go through the process of writing every day in countless notebooks, to get to the point, where it made sense to me.  It is equally odd that I had to leave my country to focus on my language.  Which is exactly what happened when I was in Japan.

I couldn’t speak a word of Japanese, yet I made sure that I kept as far away as I can from the English language.   The distance from my own language and country made me super aware of my limitations, which acted out as an inspiration for the Plum book. Yet, I did have a mass-market English dictionary, which also had a small atlas in the back of the book.  With that as a guide, I plunge myself into writing “The Plum in Mr. Blum’s Pudding. ”

My most useful tool is my memory.  The beauty of it is the fact that it doesn’t have to be a correct memory.  In actually, I prefer the act of memory, and somehow get the facts wrong.  Some years ago, I read Jules Romains’ “Donogoo Tonka or The Miracles of Science” which had a huge effect on me, due that the location of a city in South America was totally made up by the author.   For me, a writer needs to be bigger than life.   When I was a teenager, I discovered Guillaume Apolliinaire, because I like the fact that he was writing poetry in such a fashion, that was so ‘new. ' To honor him and his work, I tried to write a poem from my memory, but alas not having the book in Japan, I had to re-invent the work.  A lot of my poems are really is my memory working to remember a piece of literature, or if it is something first-hand, such a conversation, then it is trying to remember what that person said.  If I was a journalist, I would be a total disaster, but as a poet, every accident becomes a port hole to another world.

Collecting art to me is a form of writing poetry.  Just not on paper.  I was very impressed with Peggy Guggenheim, because here is a woman who made her world, in her own fashion.  Combining the artists and their work and having it contained in a location is a must.  Art lives on no matter what, but with the focus of how one displays that work, and with another artist, it becomes a dialogue of sorts.  Writing poetry works the same way for me.   I choose words that hopefully will go together, not to make a specific sense, but actually to bring one’s imagination into focus.  As much as possible I want to avoid the real world and what I want to do is make it into an artificial paradise. To mis-phrase Donald Rumsfeld: “There are things out there, that we do know, but it is the unknown we need to know, and what we know, is not really knowledge, but a slight misunderstanding on what we think we know. ”

When I saw the film “Blow Up” I was struck by how easy reality can be altered by another medium - for instance in that film, with the camera.  Writing poetry serves the same purpose in that one is not recording what’s real, but what’s the subjective view of that world.  With that in thought, I’m a freed man.

July 18, 2014

July 18, 2014

“I put a spell on you because  … you’re mine.” I want to make you do the evil things I want you to do.   I like to tease you, to see how you would react.  I lightly batter you around, and forbid you to strike back.   But when you do darling, my little darling, I’ll bite you so hard, that my teeth marks will be on you for life.  You can scream and shout, but no one will believe you.   Because my little darling, you are mine.

You will be running away from me on a beach, but alas, the land is wide and open.  I can just take my time and send you my missile of love, just to scare you, and to remind you, forever more, that you’re mine.  It doesn’t matter if you’re surrounded by love ones, or those who care, because I will destroy them to get to you.  You’re going to realize you’re a loon and you’ll be scared of the cunning moon, under the crepe of world-pain that won’t pass baby, for -oh terror! - All is under a jar of glass, and I got you babe, because you’re mine.

You’re gonna ask why?  And I’m gonna tell you nothing, because I’m not lying, I’m after you.  I got a fort to protect, and you my dear love, don’t fit in my scheme of things.   I like you, but you’ll never believe me, because the way I treat you.  I was born to love, but the world won’t let me love you the way I always want to.  And on top of that, you have put me down, and I don’t want chance to define our relationship, so it’s best to show the might that I have, because I can, and I can do evil, however you want to define evil.

Me and my friends sit on a top of a hill to watch over you.  We’re laughing, we’re drinking, and we want to make you understand that we can do this, because we can.   I often feel ashamed, feel blue, and a touch drunk, but what can I do?  Back home, I have a model of your town, and your home, and I can sit there and look at it, and once in a while I can go by there and flick a building down with my index and middle finger.   I like the feeling that you’re mine, that I got you, and I want you forever.  We’ve been through this so many times, and the results are still the same.  Me on top and you on the bottom, because I put a spell on you, and you’re mine.

July 12, 2014

July 12, 2014

I have been writing poetry for my whole life. Yet it is difficult to describe the horrors and put that on paper.  I usually write with green ink, because for me, that color represents desire and hope.  But to be honest, it is futile to think that I can change the world with my writing, and whatever it’s green or black ink, it comes out white on white piece of paper, and barely readable. I’m intrigued by the art of the sentence, the way the lines break on a page with respect to poetry.  It is these little pleasures that keep me on the page and holding onto my pen. On the other hand, I don’t see much hope for the world outside my studio or writing space.

I have always been fascinated by a world that I wasn’t allowed to see.  As a small child I pretty much learned to read by devouring “Famous Monsters of Filmland” edited by Forrest J Ackerman, especially articles on Tod Browning.  As a ten-year old, I had a favorite filmmaker, yet I never saw any of his films.  I just loved the film stills I have seen in the magazine, such as “Dracula, ” and anything with Lon Chaney.  I was intrigued with Chaney due that he wore the most bizarre and scary make-up.  The photograph of him dressed up as the Phantom of the Opera, scared me, but everything he did with Tod Browning as his director, seemed impossible to see, especially when you are ten-years old, and this was all before VHS video or DVDs.  The one film that seemed taboo was Browning’s “Freaks.” Quite often, “Famous Monsters of Filmland” would have articles and images from this film, and it truly captured my imagination.   I couldn’t draw, but I could write, so I started writing poems devoted to the images I have observed in the magazine.  As a teenager I started to read French surrealist poetry, and I was struck with the image of filmic horror and the surrealist imagination, as being married, or perhaps connected to the hip, like the Dolly Sisters.

As a poet, I strived to be as cold as Richard Stark’s “Parker, ” in that I want to plan out the poem as a route on a map, or at the very least a destination from there to here.   To take everything that is out there and make it into my home, or at least in a position where I can control or contain a world that I can call my own.  Like my favorite poet, Max Jacob, I’m often at odds with the world, which in turn hates me.   Everything I have done in life has ended up as failures, on the other hand, I wear ‘failure’ as a badge of pride.  Like Thoreau, I’m interested in the idea of survival in the face of hostile elements, historical change, and the most important, natural decay.   I think this is exactly what I sense with respect to the figures and characters I saw in “Famous Monsters of Filmland.” To survive in a world that is hostile to the monster, the vampire, and best of all, the side-show circus freak, captured my imagination and my soul.

A lot of my childhood friends played with toys like G.I. Joe, and I think later they were in a position to join a culture that was open and friendly to them.  I, on the other hand, was on the side of the mad poets and monsters.  As a young adult, I became attracted to the work of Alain Cuny, a French actor who was likewise a close friend of Antonin Artaud. He appeared in numerous films made by Fellini, but the role that I am mostly impressed with is the character that he played in “Emmanuelle.” He played an older man named Mario who convinces Emmanuelle that monogamy will die out, and that lust will win out over guilt or reason.  He leads Emmanuelle to one sexual adventure after another, and like the characters in the monster magazine, I have found another hero.

The sad thing in life is that I just have notebook after notebook with writings in green ink, that is barely readable. Yet I continue, because as I said, the destination is just a direction, in which I don’t think will bring me to a conclusion.

"Pierre Reverdy" by Pierre Reverdy (NYRB, Edited by Mary Ann Caws)

NYRB ISBN: 978-1-59017-769-5

Superb collection of poetry by the legendary and sort of obscure poet Pierre Reverdy.   There are poet's poets and then there is the Painter's poet, and Pierre Reverdy is famous for his relationship with Picasso and the Cubists artists of the early 20th Century. But Reverdy also had respect from his fellow poets as well, and almost every avant-poet or lyrical poet also has a great appreciation for Reverdy's poetry.  Reading the introduction, I didn't know he had a long-term relationship with Coco Chanel.   A good looking man according to the photograph on the back of the book.  He had the whole world in his hands, but the narration is quite harsh, due to the two world wars that took place in his lifetime. 

The poems are mostly mood pieces that would go well with mid '50's Miles Davis.  Romantic in despair, but never depressing due to I think his intelligence and his ability to write a perfect poem that is set like a jewel case on the top of a bedside table.  Once again the New York Review of Books (NYRB) has done a great job of publishing these collection of works by Reverdy, and translated by an all-star cast of the most interesting of the interesting.  Kenneth Rexroth, Geoffrey O'Brien, Frank O'Hara, Richard Howard, John Ashbery and edited by the great Mary Ann Caws.   Any poet that can gather the American giants of poetry and translation in one volume, you know is very much worth your time. 

33 1/3 "Histoire de Melody Nelson" by Darran Anderson

Darran Anderson's little study on one of the great albums that came out of Europe, "Histoire de Melody Nelson" is a superb study on Serge Gainsbourg and his masterpiece.   First of all I am touched that both titles ("Gainsbourg" by Gilles Verlant & Serge Gainsbourg's short novel "Evguenie Sokolov) that i published are in the bibliography.  So with the music and the books he's coming from a good place!

Anderson's book is very brief, but there's no wasted words.  He has a deep understanding of Gainsbourg's work, and not only does he talk about the Melody Nelson album, but it is also a brief biography on the great artist.   As in the Verlant biography, it is moving as well as terrifying to read about Gainsbourg's childhood running away from the Nazis.  Over time I have read tales dealing with the Occupation, but the Gainsbourg narration is one that really makes me emotionally aware how horrible those times were.  Almost unthinkable, yet it is these surroundings that probably inspired the greatness in Gainsbourg's songs and his very own iconic stance against authority.  

The book also captures the flavor of Gainsbourg's love for literature and how that inspired him as well.  Baudelaire, Jarry, Rimbaud, and the lasting influence of Boris Vian played a big role in how Gainsbourg looked at life and art.   Anderson is a wonderful writer, and his smart, intelligent take on Gainsbourg is right on the button.    Essential read for anyone who even has the slightest interest in the world of Serge, but also insightful in how bad things (occupation) can charge a shy figure into a warrior of sorts.   This book along with Gilles Verlant (The granddad of Serge bios), Sylvie Simmons' English bio and Gainsbourg's "Evguenie Sokolov"  we now have a great representation of the world of Gainsbourg in print.  

Raymond Queneau's "Hitting The Streets" (Translated by Rachel Galvin)

Carcanet Press ISBN: 9781847771575

The combination of poet and city is a hard one to find fault.  i never admired the poet who writes about 'nature,' but give me a poet who writes about buildings, streets, concrete, and the waterway around the city, and I am there for them.   Especially if that city is Paris and the poet is Raymond Queneau, the overall essential literary figure of the 20th Century.

"Hitting The Streets" is a proper title for this collection of poems regarding the theme of human and city.  And when the city is Paris, it becomes even more interesting.  Perhaps because it is an iconic location, but in truth a good poet can write about their city block - any city block  - and make it interesting.  So perhaps it's not the city itself but Raymond Queneau.

He is such a giant talent, and what I love about his work is his playfulness.  In theory he must be hell to translate to another language, but Rachel Galvin the translator did a good job.  The book is bilingual so for those who want to read the work in its original language (French) can do so.  I can't read French, but still, I can read it for the music of it, and the sounds.   For the Zazie fans out there I think this book is a must for your collection.