Paul Balmer’s first lines on the first chapter of his biography of Stephane Grappelli:
Stephane Grappelli made me smile. I wasn’t alone. In Paris, Bombay or Singapore, seated on the grass at a youth festival or in the plush ruby velvet of Carnegie Hall, toes tapped, heads nodded. He was a little man, slightly comic, and exuded all the innocence of his childhood hero, Charlie Chaplin’s little tramp. Always, this old-fashioned gentleman could reach across the footlights and engage his audience.
Watch out for this line in Fiona Apple’s Parting Gift. What a beautiful use of consonance. I believe we can argue that the line actually uses both consonance and assonance because it’s not just repetition of s’s but also the vowel sounds.
At some point, the posts will be more constant. Playing catch up with all the posts that I didn’t write in the past few months.
“We mortals are, in general, like tortoises: we value and classify ourselves according to our shells…” (p.6) was used to introduce an elabrate description of a high-society home boasting of religious art, Chinese lamps, “half-European” interior structures, chandeliers, a grand piano, to name a few.
What a clever metaphor to describe the blending of cultures in the Philippines during the late 19th century.
This begins my Noli Me Tangere posts of notes with the intention of summarizing everything afterwards.
The new version of this old song shows how songs can age like fine wine. The original is a solid piece but this new version displays a depth and maturity. We experience this maturity in the way time is drawn out while maintaining a sense of tension.
Got to listen to this right after the holidays. I had a chance to spend time with family and friends in the east coast. As I said good-bye to loved ones and my amazing pal, a Norwegian elkhound, I looked to 2016; one of many goals is to reread old journal entries to remember things better and proceed a little wiser.
Thanks for reading. Smile at the great perhaps of 2016!
This is an awesome line from Death Cab’s song called “You Can Do Better Than Me.”
I’ve been slipping through the years
My old clothes don’t fit like they once did
So they hang like ghosts of the people I’ve been
I think this song is supposed to be happy in a self-deprecating kind of way but then it can actually be a super sad song about settling with someone out of fear. These two poles make this song good.
I went back to the east coast and brought this tattered oldie-but-a-goodie. Time to finish it up and write meaningful posts. Thanks for your patience. 🙂
The Rum Diary glistens with phrases like this the way water does in the sea. Thompson does a great job of writing dramatic character profiles. This one is about Yeamon:
“Yeamon was familiar too, but not quite as close–more like a memory of somebody I’d known in some other place and then lost track of. He was probably twenty-four or -five and he reminded me vaguely of myself at that age–not exactly the way I was, but the way I might have seen myself if I’d stopped to think about it. Listening to him, I realized how long it had been since I’d felt like I had the world by the balls, how many quick birthdays had gone by since that first year in Europe when I was so ignorant and so confident that every splinter of luck made me feel like a roaring champion.”
This paragraph is a reflection on youth and the past, making time stand still for a second. If this scene were in a movie, Yeamon would be talking and Paul Kemp would wash all the sound out so the camera just focuses on Yeamon talking animatedly with Sala, finishing a sentence by slapping Sala on the back.