Art and memoir
Jul. 27th, 2019 12:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
If I Could Write This in Fire by Michelle Cliff
A series of essays and some poetry. Cliff talks about being queer and Jamaican and light-skinned and a writer and living outside and inside of Jamaica as all of those things, and it's all lovely and furious and important.
nîtisânak by Lindsay Nixon
A memoir in essays of the author's experience growing up queer, non-binary, and First Nations (Cree-Métis-Saulteaux) in the Canadian Prairies. Nixon is open about the messiness of life, about being punk and fucking up and the various complexities of their family situation (adopted by a white couple as a baby, now with a complicated relationship with their birth family as well and a furious relationship with the Canadian system that keeps allowing this to happen).
Special Lecture on Korean Paintings by Oh Ju-seok
This is clearly the book I should have read before I read these books on Korean art, but alas that was not the order in which my library holds arrived. This is about how to read Korean paintings on their own terms: the direction in which your eyes are intended to move, various ideals the artist might have been aiming at, that kind of thing. Lots of color plates make the points very clear and it's very engaging. The author is proud of Korean art to the point of being unintentionally humorous (for example, he insists that a particular picture of a tiger is not merely a world-class picture of a tiger but the best tiger picture in the world), but by the end his insistence that his audience recognize Korean art on its own terms becomes endearing and understandable. Highly recommended.
Jasmine and Stars: Reading More than Lolita in Tehran by Fatemeh Keshavarz
As the title suggests, this is in part a response to Reading Lolita in Tehran. Keshavarz writes a clear and lucid critique of RLiT's central premise and approach, but also waxes lyrical about her experiences with literature that she feels are part and parcel of her Iran, from her whole high-school class breaking down over the death of a favorite poet, to discussing literature earnestly with her devout uncle. Her recollections of her family members are rose-tinted and loving, but she isn't interested in painting a picture of a perfect Iran, merely a more complicated one that contains a literature of its own and a reading public to go with it, as well as an interest in international writing. Her writing is eminently readable and this is an excellent source of further readings in Iranian literature, if that sort of thing interests you.
A series of essays and some poetry. Cliff talks about being queer and Jamaican and light-skinned and a writer and living outside and inside of Jamaica as all of those things, and it's all lovely and furious and important.
nîtisânak by Lindsay Nixon
A memoir in essays of the author's experience growing up queer, non-binary, and First Nations (Cree-Métis-Saulteaux) in the Canadian Prairies. Nixon is open about the messiness of life, about being punk and fucking up and the various complexities of their family situation (adopted by a white couple as a baby, now with a complicated relationship with their birth family as well and a furious relationship with the Canadian system that keeps allowing this to happen).
Special Lecture on Korean Paintings by Oh Ju-seok
This is clearly the book I should have read before I read these books on Korean art, but alas that was not the order in which my library holds arrived. This is about how to read Korean paintings on their own terms: the direction in which your eyes are intended to move, various ideals the artist might have been aiming at, that kind of thing. Lots of color plates make the points very clear and it's very engaging. The author is proud of Korean art to the point of being unintentionally humorous (for example, he insists that a particular picture of a tiger is not merely a world-class picture of a tiger but the best tiger picture in the world), but by the end his insistence that his audience recognize Korean art on its own terms becomes endearing and understandable. Highly recommended.
Jasmine and Stars: Reading More than Lolita in Tehran by Fatemeh Keshavarz
As the title suggests, this is in part a response to Reading Lolita in Tehran. Keshavarz writes a clear and lucid critique of RLiT's central premise and approach, but also waxes lyrical about her experiences with literature that she feels are part and parcel of her Iran, from her whole high-school class breaking down over the death of a favorite poet, to discussing literature earnestly with her devout uncle. Her recollections of her family members are rose-tinted and loving, but she isn't interested in painting a picture of a perfect Iran, merely a more complicated one that contains a literature of its own and a reading public to go with it, as well as an interest in international writing. Her writing is eminently readable and this is an excellent source of further readings in Iranian literature, if that sort of thing interests you.