bodies and films

Lately Whitebait has been reading the occasional chapter of Stephen Barber's Projected Cities: CInema and Urban Space (2002). It is an interesting historicised account of the contemporary relationship between the urban and filmic images that is made all the better for major examples drawn from European and Japanese film culture. It is hard to approach this topic in a fresh way given the intense academic publication on the area (moi included) over the past couple of decades. So Barber scores well on this front, particularly with his chapter on cinema featuring Tokyo. Your bloggeur learnt some good stuff here. Then Barber has an extraordinarily imaginative final chapter which charts a personal journey across European cinemas ranging from grand old picture palaces such as the Stalinist-era Soprus in Tallinn, Estonia; to the pornography district of Marseilles and the Les Ailes cinema ('with at least half of the audience facing in the wrong direction'); and to sprawling and giant new English multiplexes. A key finding and thread of his argument is that pornographic cinemas marks a crucial remaining space for celluloid culture in cities increasingly dominated by the presence of corporate digital media.

At times Barber crystallises his insights into beautifully straightforward sentences. For instance: 'In the contemporary city pornography is inscribed on everything except the body' (or something similar -- can't find the page right at this moment). But a lot of the time he writes overly dense sentences that simply don't do the reader any favours in trying to build a sense of engagement with the bigger ideas. It could be so much better on this front. But the book is worth checking out despite that reservation.

Speaking of bodies: Whitebait mentioned a few posts back that he was reading Delia Falconer's The Lost Thoughts of Soldiers. The author and her partner R. (also a great spinner of yarns) are old friends whom FrauleinDrDr and W. are looking forward to catching up with tomorrow night in Sydney. It is a superb book and you should read it dear, erm, readers, if you haven't already of course. What W. particularly loved and thinks is wonderful about this book is the way it evokes 'history' (in this case that of the infamous Little Bighorn battle) almost completely through the bodies of the soldiers involved. Farting, pissing, fucking, and more. And it makes the past seem a whole lot more palpable. The poetry of the everyday is the best phrase your bloggeur can think of to describe it. Do buy and read it. And you don't have to take just Whitebait's word on how good it is; instead, rely on the serendiptous timing and the reliable judgement of Pavlov's Cat who posted this today.