Brushes with semi-celebrities

It's safe to assume that from here on out the posts are going to be a bit more sporadic, as this funny thing called "real life" has begun to interfere with my more touristic adventures around town. And while I think the details of my daily life are fascinating, because I'm me, I'd rather not subject the rest of you to such minutiae, e.g.: "Today I went to the organic grocery store." "Today I went to the hairdresser's." "Today I went to Ikea." So rest assured I am still going places -- they're just more like the places where everyone else goes.

That said, I haven't become a complete bore. A couple of weeks ago I went to the launch reading for the fall issue of Poetry London, a magazine similar to America's Poets & Writers. Held in the gallery at Foyles, a fabulous independent bookseller on that fabulous bookseller street, Charing Cross Road, the reading featured a decent-sized and attentive crowd and a larger-than-average share of good readers. I was introduced to some more "big names" in the contemporary poetry scene: Peter Redgrove, who recently passed away; Redgrove's wife, Penelope Shuttle, who read poems by her late husband and by herself; and Mimi Khalvati, who reminded me very much of Toi Derricotte -- a sweet voice but a sharp eye. Plus, there was a crazy Australian woman (ex-actor) named Rosemary Harris reading what actually turned out to be good poems, but in a hideous melodramatic voice. I just want you to imagine the following lines, pronounced slowly and methodically, As. If. Every. Word. Should. Resonate. In. Your. Mind.

"There's a scary bit," he giggles,
"I've got a scary bit."

Well, damn. How scary was it?

The magazine itself has a narrative slant and a lot of formal variety to its poetry, as well as a well-executed review section with plenty of good recommendations. A good discovery for a new kid in town, and there ain't nothin wrong with a free glass of wine.

---

Last week the London Film Festival started; I've been to one film so far, Triple Agent, a French espionage film, but with a different perspective and a far subtler execution than most spy thrillers. Last night, unrelated to the festival but scheduled during it probably to catch some of the excitement, the Curzon Soho screened The Corporation, a Canadian point-of-view documentary on the role of corporations in contemporary society. Now remember, these are Canadians, so you can bet it's not the feel-good capitalism movie of the year. (That will will be the film version of The Polar Express.) That said, I was impressed by the film's cogency -- even if not by its brevity -- and found it to be much more thoughtful than any of Michael Moore's latest efforts, although he is interviewed for the film. Afterwards, there was a panel discussion with the writer, Joel Bakan, and one of the directors, Jennifer Abbott, along with a few Brits from various corporate accountability groups. As with most Q&A's, many of the questioners really just wanted to hear themselves sound halfway intelligent, and so did all of the panelists. I'm always uncomfortable with the way that so-called "authorities" tend to condescend to their audience. One interesting point that was raised, though, was "what can we do?" if we think that corporations should be held accountable. One reply from a panelist was that everybody working for such companies should quit their jobs. Well, if he isn't talking from a position of privilege, Betty, you can call me Al. I'd be interested to hear people's thoughts on this, actually -- and that includes those of you who don't think anything about the current situation needs to change. Let's get a discussion going! That way I can be a slacker about the next post.