TageRyche
Active Member
- May 13, 2007
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Experimental Film follows Lois Cairns, a former film critic and teacher who begins a slow descent into depression when she discovers her son Clark has been diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder. Her life and career both appear to have stalled until she watches an experimental film called Untitled 13, which has been assembled from fragments of stolen footage. What catches her attention is a short clip of a silver nitrate film from the early 20th century depicting a woman in a white veil holding a deadly scythe. For Cairns, the footage evokes the Wendish folktale of Lady Midday: a supernatural being who haunts the fields of poor farmers, rewarding those who accept their labor and punishing those who disrespect her. The discovery spurs a dangerous obsession for Cairns, as she seeks to publish an account of the film’s original creator, Mrs. A. Macalla Whitcomb, an early Canadian cinematographer and Spiritualist who disappeared under mysterious circumstances in 1918.
Never was a huge fan of that book. I think it was a landmark publication for postwar fiction for a number of reasons, but stylistically and thematically I never found it interesting. Be curious to hear what you think.
Well, I'm setting Zadie Smith aside for a bit because I'm going on a little vacation soon and want to take some leisure reading--so I'm moving on to Gemma Files's Experimental Film, which, despite its title, is not nonfiction.
Here's a quote from the LA book review:
Never was a huge fan of that book. I think it was a landmark publication for postwar fiction for a number of reasons, but stylistically and thematically I never found it interesting. Be curious to hear what you think.
I've read this one pretty quickly, in like 4 or 5 days. It was an easy read, the language of the book is very simplistic and it's apparently designed for children and adolescents. The action was predictable and underwhelming, main character Holden Caulfield was overdrawn. Not an interesting book as far as I'm concerned.
but not grad students and certainly not women.
I’m writing the story. It involves terrorist vegan gengineering and academic hierarchies and marbled lungfish and autocannibalism. Also terraforming and First Contact with aliens who showed up on Earth long before Kubrick’s transcendent monolith-makers, and who— being not very bright— bet on an utterly wrong horse. There’s a lot of story, a lot of backstory, and yet the story almost seems to be the least of it. It’s an actual opera, you see; a fusion of classic high-pitched arias and growling distorted black-metal grunge. There’s music, and a libretto. There are singers and sets and costumes— relatively primitive at this stage, the event was basically a proof-of-principle exercise after all— and scientific fact-checking courtesy of a number of real authorities, not the least being the co-discoverer of Dark Energy. We’re after verisimilitude, here. This aims to be the most scientifically-rigorous opera about alien lungfish on Mars ever written.