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Watching
HELLBOUND
[지옥]
Season 2
Yeon Sang-ho
Korea, 2024
Tuesday, January 21, 2025
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Sunday, January 19, 2025
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Saturday, January 18, 2025
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HAROLD PINTER
“I shall tear off my Terrible Cap”
I in my straight jacket swung in the sun,
In a hostile pause in a no man’s time.
The spring his green anchor had flung.
Around me only the walking brains,
And the plack of their onelegged dreams
As I hung.
I tell them this—
Only the deaf can hear and the blind understand
The miles I gabble.
Through these my dances of dunce and devil,
It’s only the dumb can speak through the rubble.
Time shall drop his spit in my cup,
With this vicious cut he shall close my trap
And gob me up in a drunkard’s lap.
All spirits shall haunt me and all devils drink me;
O despite their dark drugs and the digs that they rib me,
I’ll tear off my terrible cap.
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Friday, January 17, 2025
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GABRIEL GARCÍA MÁRQUEZ
Memories of My Melancholy Whores
I discovered that my obsession for having each thing in the right place, each subject at the right time, each word in the right style, was not the well-deserved reward of an ordered mind but just the opposite: a complete system of pretense invented by me to hide the disorder of my nature. I discovered that I am not disciplined out of virtue but as a reaction to my negligence, that I appear generous in order to conceal my meanness, that I pass myself off as prudent because I am evil-minded, that I am conciliatory in order not to succumb to my repressed rage, that I am punctual only to hide how little I care about other people’s time. I learned, in short, that love is not a condition of the spirit but a sign of the zodiac.
Thursday, January 16, 2025
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WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
"To a Friend Whose Work Has Come to Nothing"
Now all the truth is out,
Be secret and take defeat
From any brazen throat,
For how can you compete,
Being honor bred, with one
Who were it proved he lies
Were neither shamed in his own
Nor in his neighbors' eyes;
Bred to a harder thing
Than Triumph, turn away
And like a laughing string
Whereon mad fingers play
Amid a place of stone,
Be secret and exult,
Because of all things known
That is most difficult.
Wednesday, January 15, 2025
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HALLDÓR LAXNESS
Independent People
“Oh yes,” said the old woman, “but I’ve heard these so-called stoves are by no means all they are supposed to be. I never saw a stove in my day, and yet never ailed a thing, at least as long as I could really be called alive, except for nettle rash one night when I was in my fifteenth year. It was caused by some fresh fish that the boys used to catch in the lakes thereabouts.”
The man did not answer for a while, but lay pondering the medical history of this incredible old creature who, without ever setting eyes on a stove, had suffered almost no ailments in the past sixty-five years.
Tuesday, January 14, 2025
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JOHN ASHBERY
"The Plywood Years"
Here in the open, love lies apart,
singing to its beads. How reflective is that?
Don’t be such a goose, love said.
They’ll tinsel you.
They came after me and in the end I was a sot.
They said on TV it didn’t matter.
One fallen ice cube is left. The others go in.
So it was on your conscience the hangover happened?
You don’t want to call.
Others than you are surfeited.
Bobby Burns said a rose is like no other,
neither is a lintel a blood-red reef.
They came and sat on the pier next to me.
I had piqued their curiosity
just like in the old days.
One spoke to a kitten. They shrugged.
I hadn’t had the mirror experience in the hangar
yet. Those were all days tumbling over me like water,
like a scented caress. Then a bumble bee
gladdens earth with its silver sound.
We lived under tarpaper and ebony slats,
dragging one’s feet across the floor.
Oh if you’re going to then do it
advised the eggbeater. Time got left out of the equation.
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