The Great Gatsby Trailer

Call me conflicted. Go ahead, do it! I am openly ambiguous about F. Scott Fitzgerald as a writer, yet I have never been able to completely escape The Great Gatsby’s allure. Or that of Tender is the Night. Or This Side of Paradise. Or many of his short stories (I’m looking straight at you, The Diamond as Big as the Ritz). There is so much to admire, and so much to question. However, I am going to leave that for another day (as I am working on a new Fitzgerald essay). The Great Gatsby, for all of Hollywood’s money and resources, has never been satisfactorily adapted to film. The Alan Ladd/Betty Field version (directed by Elliot Nugent, 1949) and the Robert Redford/Mia Farrow iteration (directed by Jack Clayton, 1974) are both so-so. Although I write extensively on silent cinema, I have never seen the lost (?)1926 Herbert Brenon directed film starring my hometown movie star (and early Academy Award winner) Warner Baxter, with Lois Wilson as Daisy. Although a good actor, he seems entirely miscast. So much so, that I am really intrigued. Until then, we have this:

Make of it what you will. I’m not sold, but I will probably see it anyway. Unlike HBO’s Hemingway & Gellhorn, which looks so bad that my soul hurts.

Daily Diversion #6: Hunter S. Thompson Wants You….to Drink

We recently checked out the hot new taco/tequila/whiskey place in an “up-and-coming” part of town that we frequent. (Note: In this case, “up-and-coming” means semi-gentrified with a side order of flying bullets.) A stack of these cards was sitting on the bar.

Hunter S. Thompson Recipe Card

“The Dirty Bird”

The food was good, the tequila was excellent. Seeing Hunter S. Thompson looking up at me from behind dark glasses was a bit of unexpected fun. Now, on to the other side:

Red Headed Stranger Recipe Card

Red Headed Stranger Recipe Card

Hmmm, ginger and bitters are two of my favourite things. I’ll probably go back just to try this. Oh, and let’s face it: I’m a sucker for dead writers. If they put a Virginia Woolf Gin Fizz on the menu, I’ll never leave.

[From My Archives]* On Shaw, or How a Dead Playwright Transformed My Adolescence and Altered My Life

When I set out to do this essay, I realized that writing about George Bernard Shaw would be rather like writing about my first (real) love: a little daunting, a little dangerous and, ultimately, mostly about me, for we tend to see ourselves reflected in others as steadfastly as we implant ourselves firmly in what we read. Continue reading

Voices from the Grave-Some Words of Introduction

Reading is thought of as a silent pursuit, a psychic communion between two intellects and imaginations: those of author and reader. Yet, the space between those points is filled with a cacophony of phantom voices; characters go about their business as they would in the real world: shouting, whispering, crying, laughing. Your voice, too, is heard, as you process your own ideas and opinions. The quiet, firm mastermind behind the subtleties of plot and style is there, guiding everything behind a mask of neutrality: gagged by choice but interacting with everyone, across an expanse of space and time that refuses to be confined.

If you have ever been to a book reading you know what a wonderful experience it is to hear a writer read from one of their works. Maybe their words have been echoing for years in your head, until the only voice associated with them is your own. Hearing them spoken by the person who strung them together in such a serendipitous way may be jarring or amazing, at first, but surely it is always exhilarating. When many of your favorite authors are of the long-dead variety, setting off to the neighborhood Barnes & Noble for a Thursday night listen-and-greet is out of the question.

If we cannot travel back to the 1920s to catch Edna St. Vincent Millay on one of her famous speaking tours, or to the 1960s to hear Sylvia Plath give a radio reading, we can do the next best thing. That realm-of-nearly-all-things-are-possible, the Internet, is accessible with a few clicks of the keyboard. We are going to gather our favorite clips of writers speaking and permanently park them right here, under the auspices of ‘Voices from the Grave’.

First up: Robert Graves.