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A pair of new poems in Issue 4 of the always dashing Small Po[r]tions: "People Find It Difficult to Resist Your Persuasive Manner" and "The Dancing Imps of the Wine."
— March 8th, 2015
Two poems in the new Lana Turner, which is crammed with stunners. At 408pp, it's thick enough to stand on end.
— November 4th, 2014
An article I co-wrote with Jackie Ardam about Susan Sontag’s digital archive is up at the Los Angeles Review of Books.
There have been a couple of neat responses. Bookforum, Brain Pickings, The Guardian, and the Oxonian Review dig the excess. The Fair Jilt reads Sontag in terms of clickbait and "our list-infested social media." And NY Mag (h/t Lena Dunham), the New York Times, Jezebel, The Toast, and Arts & Letters Daily talk up a few of the fun details (from Sontag's emails, iTunes library, and Microsoft Word docs) that we flirt with in our piece.
In a nice coincidence, Robert Heinecken's incredible photomontage The S.S. Copyright Project "On Photography" (1978), which tries to make sense out of details, is currently on view at the Hammer. It's based on the classic dusk-jacket photo by Jill Krementz.
— October 26th, 2014
The list emerges from Sontag’s diaries as the author’s signature form. And it’s a strange form at that: the list is a potentially infinite structure made up of distilled, often epigrammatic parts. It’s a form that expands and contracts to meet the needs of its author; it may be brief or expansive, important or ephemeral, and, in Sontag’s hands, it takes on many roles: an argument or an organizer, an aide-mémoire or a way of conferring value. The result of her “compulsion” not just to inventory but to reduce the world to a collection of scrutable parts, the list, Sontag’s archive makes clear, is always unstable, always ready to be added to or subtracted from. The list is a form of flux.
Susan Sontag famously believed that lists confer value and affirm our existence. A decade after her death, as her digital archive is being made accessible to scholars and fans, the LA Review of Books examines the repercussions in a beautiful essay:
All archival labor negotiates the twin responsibilities of preservation and access.
[…]
Sontag is — serendipitously, it seems — an ideal subject for exploring the new horizon of the born-digital archive, for the tension between preservation and flux that the electronic archive renders visible is anticipated in Sontag’s own writing. Any Sontag lover knows that the author was an inveterate list-maker.
[…]
Reading Sontag’s lists in their original e-environment brings the issues of the digital archive — with its constant push-and-pull between proliferation and deep freeze — to the surface.
[…]
We cannot see when and where Sontag added to a list, or when or where she deleted from it. There are no cross-outs, no carets, no smudges. Certain kinds of traces, familiar in more traditional archives, are absent from the digital environment.
[…]
Listing and searching both provide us with ways, however flawed, to cut through redundancy, to make meaning out of chaos, to, in Sontag’s vocabulary, confer and create “value,” even “existence.” This impulse to list, to search, or, in other words, to reduce — an impulse researchers necessarily share with Sontag herself — takes on a peculiar resonance in the context of the guarded writer’s archive
Full piece here. Complement with Sontag’s lists of likes and dislikes, illustrated
What Institution Are You From? | Helium | Superball EP (1995)
“Hook me with your hand, my mouth is full of sand / Everything I say ends with and”
And: "I don't know why / You employ me"
Sukiyaki | Seam | Sukiyaki 7" (1999)
The cover: Performed by Seam, Sooyoung Park’s great forgotten ’90s dream-rock band from Chicago. Ajax Records pressed 1000 copies of this 7”, which was Seam’s final release and featured a cover of David Bowie’s “Heroes” as the B-side. Vocals by Yan Pan. The original: Number one for three weeks on the Billboard top 100 in 1963. Performed by Kyu Sakamoto, music by Hachidai Nakamura, lyrics by Rokusuke Ei. Released in Japan as “Ue O Muite Aruko” (“I Look Up When I Walk”).
A cube, a sphere, a pyramid obeying the laws of the ocean. A cube, a sphere, a pyramid, a cylinder. A blue cube. A white sphere. A white pyramid. A white cylinder. We will not make any more moves. Silence. The species marches on with jabbering eyes. A green cube. A blue sphere. A white pyramid. A black cylinder. Like the dreams one hardly remembers; worlds where the shark, the knife, and the cook are synonyms. A black cube. A black pyramid. A sphere and a black cylinder. I prefer to close my eyes and walk into the night. The squid's ink will describe the clouds and the distant earth. A yellow sphere. A yellow pyramid. A yellow cube that melts in the water, the air, and the fire.
Marcel Broodthaers