epershand

Meanwhile, my head was full of new shadowy tremendous ideas for an immense novel: nothing less ambitious than a survey of the post-war generation. Its scene was to be Cambridge, bohemian London, the Alps and North Wales... I made elaborate plans—all of them, intentionally, a little vague: for the truth was, the subject seemed so exciting, so wonderful, that I hardly dared to begin. It was much easier to draw diagrams in coloured chalks, beautifully shaded, with arrows, numbers and wavy lines, and pseudo-technical terms invented for the occasion, such as "fifth static area" or "Tommy-roger Motif bridge-passage to Welsea." I would wake up in the middle of the night to scribble emotionally in my note-book: "The treatment must be nearly pure Objective. The Epic Myth. In a sense, there must be no actual 'development.' Like gossip. Very slow-moving maddeningly deliberate genre-packed scenes. People's attitudes to their own Coriolanus-myth."

Lions and Shadows, p. 162

Ok, maybe my soul.

It makes me deeply sad that I am never actually going to write the ridiculous Ryan-as-Isherwood/Spencer-as-Auden story in my heart, because drawing beautiful detailed chalk diagrams for it is *so fun.* Sigh.

VITAL ETA: ( A few minutes later, on gchat... )

Crossposts: http://darkest-light.livejournal.com/297445.html

It's National Poetry Month! I am a big fan of National Poetry Month, but I know not everyone who follows me is. So, here's a general idea of the way I post during the period:

I tend to post 1-3 times a week over the course of the month. I usually have some commentary outside a cut and keep the poem under the cut. I post out-of-copyright poems publicly and more recent poetry behind an access lock on the grounds that poets who are still working should be able to control the online searchability of their own work. If I have not granted you access and you're interested in reading more poetry, let me know and I'll add you. (Honestly, the primary use of my access filter is things like this.)

Last year I posted only poems that were themselves transformative works; I've got one major instance of that that I'm planning on posting this year, but for the most part I think I'm going to be sticking to poetry by queer poets that reflects on the queer experience, because that's the headspace that I'm in right now. Also because last week

feverbeats posted a request for more queer poetry and I have a mountain of it to share.

I have a few dedicated tags related to the subject: poetry is the obvious one. Because of last year, the bulk of my transformative works tag is poetry-related. I also have a few tags for entries related to some of my favorite poets: Anne Carson, Catullus, John M. Ford, W.H. Auden. Apparently I have NO OVID TAG. This is upsetting, and possibly needs to be rectified this month. I also have no AE Housman tag, which I choose to believe is a sign of increased emotional maturity since moving to Dreamwidth, but which will almost certainly be changed this month if I'm really going to stick with the queer poets. (I promise though, there will be NO "Diffugere Nives", because I don't need it as an emotional crutch any more! *uses Housman icon to spite self*)

Ok, all that taken care of: a few nights ago I chanced upon an incredibly delightful Auden poem which is, you know, pretty good out of context, but is deliciously catty given the appropriate context. Especially given the attention given to the Isherwood/Auden relationship in the recent Christopher and His Kind biopic, now seems like the perfect time to pimp this historical relationship to you, o flist.

So first, I'm including a ton of context from assorted Isherwood autobiographies ( below the cut )

( I Am Not a Camera )

Crossposts: http://darkest-light.livejournal.com/281927.html

I keep being obsessed with Auden's Christmas Day poem to Chester Kallman.

( Because it is in you... )

In the last six months I've fallen head over heels into Fandom: Mid-Twentieth Century Artistic Queers Who Hung Out With Christopher Isherwood. It started with Britten, spread to Auden, and I am dangerously close to dropping everything and running to pick up a copy of Berlin Stories so that I can be genuinely fannish about Isherwood, not just fannish about Isherwood via Cabaret. I'm still trying to figure out if Blitzstein, who I have adored since high school, gets to come and play in the fandom despite having been KILLED BY PIRATES in the 30s. (No really!)

Part of me wants to put of a Crack-Van style summary of them, but that seems just silly. I am pretty sure that Isherwood would be the little black dress of the fandom, because he brought everyone to Hollywood and got them all jobs working on motion pictures. Auden is the suave slightly older fellow, being much more out than everyone and pushing them onward into decadent gay lifestyles. Britten is the perpetually young, perpetually repressed golden boy, who everyone seems to have had a thing for. Sadly, Blitzstein is too busy getting killed by pirates to hang out with anyone but jerky Brecht.

Crossposts: http://darkest-light.livejournal.com/258521.html

Knowledge, sir! Useful for its own sake, sir!

Entries tagged with fandom: mid-twentieth century queers

ISHERWOOD IS <STRIKE>MY</STRIKE> RYAN ROSS'S SOUL

Not a Camera

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