Friday, October 22, 2004

Coleridge's Kubla Khan, Jean Cocteau, Dylan's twang

Listening to some obscure Beatles song from A Hard Day's Night.

The weekend is upon us at last; I think I'm going to rent Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and watch it with a friend. Hm--not much else to report on. American Gods is great, only increasing my love for Neil. Randomly, here's the best line from Le Morte D'Arthur: "I shall curse you with book and bell and candle." Damn. Doesn't that just bring up a FEELING inside of you, something ominous and great? I imagine it being said in a low, rhythmic voice: "I shall CURSE you WITH book AND bell AND candle..."

Another thing that reminds me of that threatening, swinging rhythm is Coleridge's poem Kubla Khan. I've probably mentioned it before because it is my favorite poem of all time (followed closely by Blake and Edna St. Vincent Millay)--and I like almost no poetry at all; I usually just think it's silly and pretentious. Although we must remember that Kubla Khan was written in an opium-induced haze, so you can't really analyze it.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless by man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree
And here were forests ancient as the hills
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

Or something like that. That's all I can remember off the top of my head. If I remember, I'll link to the whole thing.

Incidentally, I love Jean Cocteau right now as well. When I drove up to Montreal a little while ago with my dad and sister, we went to an amazing Cocteau exhibit at the Musee de Beaux Arts. Although I didn't really care for his films too much (they reminded me of Dali and Bunuel's surrealist Un Chien Andalou), no matter how oh-so-artistic they're supposed to be.

Goodbye as I listen to Dylan's Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again. (The other day I was playing frisbee with my sister and we were listening to Dylan by blasting the stereo out into the backyard, and we were singing along with All I Really Want To Do in our best Dylan twangs: "All I rilly wanna doooOOOOO--is babay be FRANDS with you!")

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