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You are here: Home / Archives for review of Saul Bellow

Notes on Saul Bellow

November 29, 2010 by Iskra Leave a Comment

One of the great pleasures of the gray days is coffee combined with the New York Times Book Review. I look forward to this moment for the way the newsprint reflects the color of the winter sky, the endlessly inventive illustrations and for the writing: often the reviewers leave me with as much to linger over and absorb as the books themselves. This week carried a particularly beautiful review by Leon Wieseltier of the letters of Saul Bellow. I am a letterkeeper. I belong to the vanishing lineage of those who dwelled in garrets and drawing rooms and “prewar flats” and lived to transcribe the moments of their lives for people they would never see but nonetheless carried with them as vital witness. To look back on letters from this century of the instant-message and the tweet has a special poignance.

What spoke to me most in this review were Bellow’s insights on metaphor, symbol, ideology and creative resilience. As a visual artist, narrative and symbol are my guiding frames of reference. But both can be hazardous to successful art. I take to heart these excerpts, as wisdom to work and live by.

“…the poetry of his prose, its force of consciousness, lay always in its fidelity to the concrete. In the appearances of things and circumstances and psyches, he discerned the revelatory details…“American books, including my own…pant so after meaning. They are earnestly moral, didactic; they build them ever more stately mansions, and they exhort and plead and refine…. A work of art should rest on perception.”

“Ideology is of no use to us in refurnishing the empty house….” What is of use, by contrast, is humanism. Humanism is “the most subversive of all — and I am a Humanist.” The absence of irony from that avowal is like a cool breeze. Trotsky, Rich, Steiner: Bellow was forever chasing the answer, but his disappointment in belief never dissuaded him from the chase. “The best of me was formed in the jumps.”

Metaphor is the juxtaposition of disparate elements of the world in which an unsuspected commonality, an illuminating partial likeness, has been discovered, and the more unlikely the juxtaposition, the greater the consequent sensation of the unifying of the world; and so the range of a writer’s metaphor is a measure of the range of his cognition.”

Read the complete review.

The-Latch
© Iskra Johnson

 

Photo collage from a series in progress called “Werkspace” about the physical and emotional space of creativity. Original photos by Iskra Johnson taken at Pratt print studios in Seattle.

Filed Under: Photography Tagged With: inspirational quotes about metaphor, Leon Wieseltier, review of Saul Bellow, Werkspace

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I have been obsessed for well over a decade by the I have been obsessed for well over a decade by the line between the photographic and the drawn. This is simply a media test, or an “under drawing“ for something else, but it gave me pause. It suggests so many different qualities of mood: Foreboding, calm, dichotomy, a family photo poorly developed, the cloudy skies of the Pacific Northwest, or the fugue state one falls into after turning the pages of our days as a failing empire. “Our“ refers to those of us who live in the USA although now it should be called the DU USA, as in disunited United States. That disunity is a powerful disruptive pain that I feel daily. Also, as we phase out medicine, research, medical care, and with that presumably self-care, this was created, for those who are curious, with a cotton ball by #JohnsonAndJohnson (my father’s Swedish ancestors) on a Talens sketchbook. As I said, I’m testing. How much of the world can I take in before I shut the door and become an art nun and don’t look up until the last minute?
Sunday concentration drawing, testing a new notebo Sunday concentration drawing, testing a new notebook( and my attention span. . .)
Today’s mood, from the morning walk. Today’s mood, from the morning walk.
A metaphysical idea waiting to become a drawing. A A metaphysical idea waiting to become a drawing. All day I have been studying graphite, the most evanescent of mediums. Fragility. Once you break the egg, scatter the nest, leave the children without family on an abandoned beach, what then? 

I have spent the day drawing. In the background, which becomes foreground with one click, is the news of the rounding up of another thousand or so human beings by bounty hunters given a quota, thrown into concrete cages and disappeared because someone decided that America is no longer the home of the #huddledmasses.

The plaque on the Statue of Liberty says:

“Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Noem and Holman have not, apparently, run their hands over these words.

How do you continue making art at a time like this? You chase the metaphor. There is always a constant truth beneath the chaos.
Media studies. Addition and subtraction. Media studies. Addition and subtraction.
Somehow, between checking the news and the usual d Somehow, between checking the news and the usual distractions I managed to complete a drawing. Going back to the beginning: drawings in dust. 9.5 x 12” Charcoal powder, compressed charcoal, charcoal pencil on Moleskine. I feel peaceful for the first time in weeks.

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