Following up on our highly enjoyable April 7 discussion of Born to Be Posthumous: The Eccentric Life and Mysterious Genius of Edward Gorey, Mark Dery's biography of the inimitable artist and writer, Octavio Roca kindly sent me the link to the Gorey Store. There, you can purchase the entire Gashleycrumb Tinies fridge magnet collection, among many other treasures. After all, you certainly don't want to end up like poor Neville!
Back on March 4, the Washington Post Weekend section featured "18 books that capture the spirit and essence of living in D.C." That compilation included two titles of special interest to our demographic: George Saunders' Lincoln in the Bardo (which I would have nominated for our current reading list if we hadn't already had lots of choices) and Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston, whose cover asks, "What happens when America's First Son falls in love with the Prince of Wales?" It sounds like a hoot, so I've ordered a copy.
Two weeks later, the Post did a follow-up based on reader feedback that includes a book our group read during its first year (October 1999): Jeb and Dash: A Diary of Gay Life, 1918-1945, edited by Ina Russell, and two we haven't (yet): Florence King's Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady: A Memoir, and Gore Vidal's Lincoln. I read Jeb and Dash on my own and highly recommend it.
Following up on Patrick Flynn's excellent presentation during tonight's discussion of The Epic of Gilgamesh, he offers the following suggestions for additional reading:
Gilgamesh’s literary qualities are the focus of classicist Charles Rowan Beye’s Ancient Epic Poetry: Homer, Apollonius, Virgil, which devotes a chapter to the Gilgamesh poems. Story coherence and Mesopotamian literary tradition are the strengths of Benjamin R. Foster’s edition of The Epic of Gilgamesh (available from DC’s Public Library). For those of you interested in technology, Steve Honley will attach a PDF copy of “The Origins of Writing in Mesopotamia" by Christopher Woods (The Oriental Institute, News & Notes, Fall 2010) to his next group message. (The first page is reproduced below.) And for pre-history and history surrounding the poem, the DVD “Ancient Mesopotamia: Life in the Cradle of Civilization” from the Great Courses learning series is also available from DCPL.
Finally, Patrick says: "Let me leave you with a sample of the evocative poetry of Foster’s translation: the last lines of Tablet I: 'Even while [Gilgamesh] was having his dreams, Shamhat was telling the dreams of Gilgamesh to Enkidu, as the pair of them were making love together.'”
Our friend Patrick Flynn, who nominated The Epic of Gilgamesh (in Andrew George's translation) for our reading list, offers the following observations as we prepare for our March 17 discussion (which fellow Gilgamesh enthusiast and founding BookMen member Bill Malone will facilitate):
"The Epic of Gilgamesh is a monument of Western literature for several reasons. But my particular interest in the nature of Gilgamesh's sexuality and what it says about ancient Near Eastern attitudes recommended Andrew George's translation above the more literary versions. Although appreciations of the epic vary from person to person, one should start with an accurate reading of the original. Recent scholarship by Assyrilogists is that starting point, even if it's challenging for the modern reader. In addition to George's translation, I've found one by Benjamin R. Foster worth considering because it is not only accurate, but perhaps more readable (and provides stylistic background). For example, the same passage from the standard version is translated as follows:
Wild-Cow Ninsun was clever and wise, well versed in everything, she said to Gilgamesh:
"My son, the ax you saw is a friend, like a wife you'll love him, caress and embrace him
And I, Ninsun, shall make him your equal. A mighty comrade will come to you, and be his
friend's savior."... [George I, 288 ff.]
The wild cow Ninsun knowing and wise, who understands everything, said to Gilgamesh:
"My son, the axe you saw is a man. Your loving it like a woman and caressing it
And my making it your partner [means] there will come to you a strong one,
A companion who rescues a friend. ... [Foster I, 298 ff.]
It is also worth noting that in his introduction, Foster points out that "axe" is a wordplay for "female impersonator." Your choice of rendering is personal, of course, and diverse readings will also be interesting when we discuss the book."
Last month (scroll down), I posted an item here about the New York Times Book Review's ambitious plans to celebrate its 125th-anniversary year. As part of that retrospective, Parul Sehgal, a staff critic and former editor at the Book Review, has delved into the archives to critically examine its legacy in full. I found the resulting critique, "Reviewing the Book Review," fascinating, but her examples of how poorly the Times (along with many other literary publications, to be fair) treated the LGBTQ community until recently are particularly salient (if painful).
For instance, Carlos Baker's review of Truman Capote's 1948 first novel, Other Voices, Other Rooms, ends with this putdown: "The story of Joel Knox did not need to be told, except to get it out of the author's system." Even more savage is Rebecca West's 1974 takedown of Conundrum, Jan Morris's landmark memoir about her gender transition. Throughout her review, West refers to the author as Mr. Morris, sneering: "One feels sure she is not a woman." (!)
