Jeremy Greer
Jul. 1st, 2025 09:25 pmOf all the things to be grieving right now, this is a weird personal parasocial one. You have been warned.
( Jeremy Greer )
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( Jeremy Greer )
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In which I appear on a podcast
Jun. 16th, 2025 11:00 pmNo pressure but
Here's me with my Tablet XII manifesto on the Aurora-nominated podcast Wizards & Spaceships.
(ETA)
Thanks to![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sabotabby for the invitation -- it was one of the best conversations I've had in a long time. And also just for having a great podcast. They are hard work to keep going. Nomination well deserved.
Further, I forget to citesovay in the podcast itself for years of advice and on-the-fly translation, but these were and are essential threads of my life, both for scholarship and for sanity.
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It's still weird that I don't have an Epics icon.
Here's me with my Tablet XII manifesto on the Aurora-nominated podcast Wizards & Spaceships.
(ETA)
Thanks to
sabotabby for the invitation -- it was one of the best conversations I've had in a long time. And also just for having a great podcast. They are hard work to keep going. Nomination well deserved.Further, I forget to cite
sovay in the podcast itself for years of advice and on-the-fly translation, but these were and are essential threads of my life, both for scholarship and for sanity.§rf§
It's still weird that I don't have an Epics icon.
Happy book birthday to Rachel Ash Rosen's Blight, second in the Sleep of Reason trilogy.
I am excited to see this book in the world! The author is Known to Me as a fine stylist and a word-puncher on behalf of this often desperate global conspiracy we call trying to keep our human hearts alive.
(I consulted on the future aquatic subduction of my home city for this series and have no regrets.)
What is this book about? I will quote:
(I was tempted to remove the "maybe" there, but my training tells me not to alter the sense of a quotation. Anyway. You will like it.)
Places to order Blight:
From the publisher
From the big river with all the books
From Books2Read
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I am excited to see this book in the world! The author is Known to Me as a fine stylist and a word-puncher on behalf of this often desperate global conspiracy we call trying to keep our human hearts alive.
(I consulted on the future aquatic subduction of my home city for this series and have no regrets.)
What is this book about? I will quote:
anti-fascism, revolution, queer longing, and like, giant fucking bone tentacles.
Would you like to read about a different end to the world? One in which, the characters, like you, have survived and find ways to make meaning and keep fighting after unimaginable loss?
Maybe you will like it, in that case.
(I was tempted to remove the "maybe" there, but my training tells me not to alter the sense of a quotation. Anyway. You will like it.)
Places to order Blight:
From the publisher
From the big river with all the books
From Books2Read
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Sunburn was worth it
May. 4th, 2025 08:39 pmThe camas is out! I don't think I've ever seen it such an incredibly saturated blue as this year. I got a sunburn and bright yellow pollen all over my jeans.
Asyouknowfriends, camas is an important plant of this territory: endangered now, it was once a core food crop -- the bulbs are edible. May it one day be eaten all across the territory again.
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Asyouknowfriends, camas is an important plant of this territory: endangered now, it was once a core food crop -- the bulbs are edible. May it one day be eaten all across the territory again.
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Lazy poetry month unbound
Apr. 24th, 2025 12:20 pmAnother from Poetry Unbound -- "A Portable Paradise" by Roger Robinson. It felt fitting for conversations I've been having and witnessing.
A Portable Paradise
And if I speak of Paradise,
then I'm speaking of my grandmother
who told me to carry it always
on my person, concealed, so
no one else would know but me.
That way they can't steal it, she'd say.
And if life puts you under pressure,
trace its ridges in your pocket,
smell its piney scent on your handkerchief,
hum its anthem under your breath.
And if your stresses are sustained and daily,
get yourself to an empty room - be it hotel,
hostel or hovel - find a lamp
and empty your paradise onto a desk:
your white sands, green hills and fresh fish.
Shine the lamp on it like the fresh hope
of morning, and keep staring at it till you sleep.
* * * * * *
I like Ó Tuama's commentary because he moves seamlessly between context -- the poem appears in a collection that talks about the catastrophe at Grenfell; the biography of the poet, who lives between Trinidad and England; Ó Tuama's own responses; the derivation of words ("paradise" was first a Zoroastrian word!); and the uses of poetic devices like assonance.
Here is an example of his mobility of ideas:
This might be one I choose to teach this summer.
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A Portable Paradise
And if I speak of Paradise,
then I'm speaking of my grandmother
who told me to carry it always
on my person, concealed, so
no one else would know but me.
That way they can't steal it, she'd say.
And if life puts you under pressure,
trace its ridges in your pocket,
smell its piney scent on your handkerchief,
hum its anthem under your breath.
And if your stresses are sustained and daily,
get yourself to an empty room - be it hotel,
hostel or hovel - find a lamp
and empty your paradise onto a desk:
your white sands, green hills and fresh fish.
Shine the lamp on it like the fresh hope
of morning, and keep staring at it till you sleep.
* * * * * *
I like Ó Tuama's commentary because he moves seamlessly between context -- the poem appears in a collection that talks about the catastrophe at Grenfell; the biography of the poet, who lives between Trinidad and England; Ó Tuama's own responses; the derivation of words ("paradise" was first a Zoroastrian word!); and the uses of poetic devices like assonance.
Here is an example of his mobility of ideas:
a poem can issue many invitations, particularly invitations to identify with a character. A person might identify with the speaking voice of this poem, or with the grandmother. Someone might read something and see their lives open. In bringing my full self to read Roger Robinson's poem, I want to honour the part of me that's suffered, but I can't pretend I'm ever going to read this poem as anything other than a white man. Therefore, I ask myself what behaviours I've been part of that have taken other people's paradises, requiring them to seek shelter from me.
This might be one I choose to teach this summer.
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Congrats to the Wizards & Spaceships podcast for making the Aurora awards ballot!
Their season finale episode with Robert J. Sawyer just came out.
Also I am particularly stoked about their upcoming season, for reasons.
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Their season finale episode with Robert J. Sawyer just came out.
Also I am particularly stoked about their upcoming season, for reasons.
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Lazy poetry month part 3
Apr. 14th, 2025 10:19 amI was trying to use the word "sillion" in a word puzzle, which meant that I had to pick up Gerard Manley Hopkins, who is always close to hand, so that's what you get today.
It might as well be "The Windhover," source of the sillion (which means dirt), though I think I have posted it before.
(A windhover is a kestrel.)
You really have to read it out loud to hear the great sweeping wingbeats of it.
I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
It might as well be "The Windhover," source of the sillion (which means dirt), though I think I have posted it before.
(A windhover is a kestrel.)
You really have to read it out loud to hear the great sweeping wingbeats of it.
I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
Lazy poetry month continues
Apr. 11th, 2025 08:11 pmmusesfool posted a poem by Li-Young Lee that I had not read before and that is so beautiful, painful and loving, that in response I'm just going to post another of Lee's poems.And I'm going to choose it because there's already a Poetry Unbound episode about it, so you can go (re)-listen to that.
From blossoms
Li-Young Lee
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.
From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.
O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.
There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
Art Post - Woodpecker
Apr. 10th, 2025 01:14 pmThis one was hard. This is the second version I did. The first one came out so lumpy and messy I was worried I'd never paint again. The second one was like that too, until I remembered that paintings always feel like that halfway through.
Pileated woodpeckers are gorgeous in coloration, but super dinosaur-looking close-up.
ETA: I know the movement (smell?) lines are super silly, but I ran out of blue paint so I can't fix them.
Pileated woodpeckers are gorgeous in coloration, but super dinosaur-looking close-up.
ETA: I know the movement (smell?) lines are super silly, but I ran out of blue paint so I can't fix them.
Highlights and boosts and allsorts
Mar. 24th, 2025 04:46 pmFriends! And those who can't remember why they followed me! Some small good things are afoot.
In podcasting, the March episode of Wizards & Spaceships is out -- on game design! (Rubs hands, rolls dice)
The splendid souls at Echobird Press have a call for submissions out for a hopepunk anthology.
They're also hosting Murmurations, an online Spoken Word Event on April 13 (1:30 pm MST), including Albuquerque Poet Laureate Emeritus Manuel González.
Here's a call for submissions for a paying zine called Trans Survivors: Healing in Action.
And, in the department of nose pressed up against the glass, applications are open for a fall 2025 Science Fiction residency at Banff! With Ai Jiang, Premee Mohamed, and Amal El-Mohtar!!!
Augh. There's no way I can attend -- I'll be teaching. Maybe you can go and then tell me all about it. That would be sweet torture.
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In podcasting, the March episode of Wizards & Spaceships is out -- on game design! (Rubs hands, rolls dice)
The splendid souls at Echobird Press have a call for submissions out for a hopepunk anthology.
They're also hosting Murmurations, an online Spoken Word Event on April 13 (1:30 pm MST), including Albuquerque Poet Laureate Emeritus Manuel González.
Here's a call for submissions for a paying zine called Trans Survivors: Healing in Action.
And, in the department of nose pressed up against the glass, applications are open for a fall 2025 Science Fiction residency at Banff! With Ai Jiang, Premee Mohamed, and Amal El-Mohtar!!!
Augh. There's no way I can attend -- I'll be teaching. Maybe you can go and then tell me all about it. That would be sweet torture.
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Vulture sighting!
Mar. 3rd, 2025 06:30 amI am reading Emily Wilson's Odyssey translation for the BISR course that begins on Wednesday night.
I'm in Book III just now, when Telemachus is visiting the neighbours for news of his father and hears instead of the fates of Agamemnon and Meneleus. After an evening of talking, Telemachus and Mentes/Athena rise to leave. Nestor insists they stay the night. Athena refuses, making one of her dramatic exits:
Now, on further investigation, it seems like ossifrage can refer to several different birds, but the first hit I got was this:
Hi amazing. Bone specialists! So metal.
The bearded vulture doesn't have a bald head, but it does have a fantastically acid stomach. And it's got an amazing kind of glam biker look.
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I'm in Book III just now, when Telemachus is visiting the neighbours for news of his father and hears instead of the fates of Agamemnon and Meneleus. After an evening of talking, Telemachus and Mentes/Athena rise to leave. Nestor insists they stay the night. Athena refuses, making one of her dramatic exits:
bright-eyed Athena flew away, transformed
into an ossifrage.
Now, on further investigation, it seems like ossifrage can refer to several different birds, but the first hit I got was this:
The bearded vulture (Gypaetus barbatus), also known as the lammergeier and ossifrage, is a very large bird of prey in the monotypic genus Gypaetus. The bearded vulture is the only known vertebrate whose diet consists of 70–90% bone. (Wikipedia)
Hi amazing. Bone specialists! So metal.
The bearded vulture doesn't have a bald head, but it does have a fantastically acid stomach. And it's got an amazing kind of glam biker look.
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A glimpse of lawn
Feb. 23rd, 2025 09:14 amI need something to look forward to in the mornings, this February. A reason to get up other than the material insistence of the body.
I thought about trying to write a poem a day, but a poem -- a poem that makes me happy, anyway -- is a particular mood. So I thought: what's the easiest possible thing? And that would be some kind of description. A glimpse.
* * * * *
In the thirteenth room, the windows look out on a wide green lawn. It's raining, and the props of some game have been abandoned. It might be croquet, except that the mallets look more complicated and, if possible, more menacing.
In the distance, two ranks of heavy trees converge like green hands encircling the lawn. Beyond is a hazy gray sky, as though the ground drops away suddenly at the edge of the grass. Sometimes a bird crosses the empty space, a tiny black flaw like a fleck of ash, or a golden one like a spark. A conflagration of birds, burning just out of sight.
These grounds are not visible from any other window, and no doorway lets out onto them.
One pane of the window has been broken and repaired with a square of black cardboard. Removing the cardboard reveals the howling void beyond. I do not recommend it.
The room smells of dust and brick, extinguished fires, ozone, the jug of water on the mantel of the empty hearth, and an animal, perhaps a dog.
* * * * * *
You can tell by the style that I have been re-reading Piranesi.
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I thought about trying to write a poem a day, but a poem -- a poem that makes me happy, anyway -- is a particular mood. So I thought: what's the easiest possible thing? And that would be some kind of description. A glimpse.
* * * * *
In the thirteenth room, the windows look out on a wide green lawn. It's raining, and the props of some game have been abandoned. It might be croquet, except that the mallets look more complicated and, if possible, more menacing.
In the distance, two ranks of heavy trees converge like green hands encircling the lawn. Beyond is a hazy gray sky, as though the ground drops away suddenly at the edge of the grass. Sometimes a bird crosses the empty space, a tiny black flaw like a fleck of ash, or a golden one like a spark. A conflagration of birds, burning just out of sight.
These grounds are not visible from any other window, and no doorway lets out onto them.
One pane of the window has been broken and repaired with a square of black cardboard. Removing the cardboard reveals the howling void beyond. I do not recommend it.
The room smells of dust and brick, extinguished fires, ozone, the jug of water on the mantel of the empty hearth, and an animal, perhaps a dog.
* * * * * *
You can tell by the style that I have been re-reading Piranesi.
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In-person if you're in Welland, Ontario, and Zoom if like me you live in the tiny cracks in the world-machine:
Sat, Mar 22
2pm Eastern Time
Seaway Mall Branch
Sign up here!
The internet tells me that the average monthly cost of living in Welland is exactly $4 higher than the average income.
This is so apposite that I will choose to report those statistics without further investigation.
I plan to attend! Maybe we'll see black boxes with each other's names in them there!
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Join us as we host a virtual visit with Rachel A. Rosen, an activist, graphic designer, a high school teacher and co-author of The Sad Bastard Cookbook: Food You Can Make So You Don't Die.
Sat, Mar 22
2pm Eastern Time
Seaway Mall Branch
Sign up here!
The internet tells me that the average monthly cost of living in Welland is exactly $4 higher than the average income.
This is so apposite that I will choose to report those statistics without further investigation.
I plan to attend! Maybe we'll see black boxes with each other's names in them there!
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a well-timed smell
Feb. 10th, 2025 03:45 pmA princely gift today in the mail. Precisely a gift for princes -- rare and ancient perfumes, which is to say a huge de-stash of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab (and other perfumiers) from elusis.
Envelope after envelope pulled out of the big black packet like rabbits out of a hat, or hats out of a hat, wherein huddle dozens of curiously fragrant brown hares. And some of the coveted blue bottles, buzzing with antiquity. And a smell of rose so nostalgic I seem to remember a past life.
And one of those kits of individual notes for mixing, and a bottle to mix them in.
Thank you! it's a pretty incredible gift, and so far there's little or no overlap that I've noticed with my own accumulations.
The package was standing up against the door of the beautiful shed when I poked my head out, mole-like, at 3:15, having spent the day in bed due to post-vaccination fever and chills. By then I felt much better, and now I have a whole alchemist's shop to wander through.
It's a perfect bright clear day, but cold, so that even with both the oil heater and the baseboards on, it's been difficult to keep the beautiful shed at 19° C.
How can I describe this bright blue sky so that you see it more vividly than any other bright blue sky you've ever seen or I have ever described, which is a great many, I hope, on both sides? Well, it is like an early and surprised visit from a god of late summer, Lugh, say, stumbling in bewildered perhaps after a night of dancing at winter's wake, his long coat-tails brushing the dry branches and startling them into bloom. That kind of blue.
The package arrives with remarkably good timing, as I don't think any long walks under the blue sky are foretold for the rest of today.
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elusis.Envelope after envelope pulled out of the big black packet like rabbits out of a hat, or hats out of a hat, wherein huddle dozens of curiously fragrant brown hares. And some of the coveted blue bottles, buzzing with antiquity. And a smell of rose so nostalgic I seem to remember a past life.
And one of those kits of individual notes for mixing, and a bottle to mix them in.
Thank you! it's a pretty incredible gift, and so far there's little or no overlap that I've noticed with my own accumulations.
The package was standing up against the door of the beautiful shed when I poked my head out, mole-like, at 3:15, having spent the day in bed due to post-vaccination fever and chills. By then I felt much better, and now I have a whole alchemist's shop to wander through.
It's a perfect bright clear day, but cold, so that even with both the oil heater and the baseboards on, it's been difficult to keep the beautiful shed at 19° C.
How can I describe this bright blue sky so that you see it more vividly than any other bright blue sky you've ever seen or I have ever described, which is a great many, I hope, on both sides? Well, it is like an early and surprised visit from a god of late summer, Lugh, say, stumbling in bewildered perhaps after a night of dancing at winter's wake, his long coat-tails brushing the dry branches and startling them into bloom. That kind of blue.
The package arrives with remarkably good timing, as I don't think any long walks under the blue sky are foretold for the rest of today.
§rf§.
Two poems by Lucille Clifton. The first one came up on Instagram and the other I found at the Poetry Foundation.
night vision
the girl fits her body in
to the space between the bed
and the wall. she is a stalk,
exhausted. she will do some
thing with this. she will
surround these bones with flesh.
she will cultivate night vision.
she will train her tongue
to lie still in her mouth and listen.
the girl slips into sleep.
her dream is red and raging.
she will remember
to build something human with it.
here rests
my sister Josephine
born july in '29
and dead these 15 years
who carried a book
on every stroll.
when daddy was dying
she left the streets
and moved back home
to tend him.
her pimp came too
her Diamond Dick
and they would take turns
reading
a bible aloud through the house.
when you poem this
and you will she would say
remember the Book of Job.
happy birthday and hope
to you Josephine
one of the easts
most wanted.
may heaven be filled
with literate men
may they bed you
with respect.
( Notes and discussion )
It seems to me there are such powerful principles in these poems, told in such intimate, personal scenes.
What do you hear?
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night vision
the girl fits her body in
to the space between the bed
and the wall. she is a stalk,
exhausted. she will do some
thing with this. she will
surround these bones with flesh.
she will cultivate night vision.
she will train her tongue
to lie still in her mouth and listen.
the girl slips into sleep.
her dream is red and raging.
she will remember
to build something human with it.
here rests
my sister Josephine
born july in '29
and dead these 15 years
who carried a book
on every stroll.
when daddy was dying
she left the streets
and moved back home
to tend him.
her pimp came too
her Diamond Dick
and they would take turns
reading
a bible aloud through the house.
when you poem this
and you will she would say
remember the Book of Job.
happy birthday and hope
to you Josephine
one of the easts
most wanted.
may heaven be filled
with literate men
may they bed you
with respect.
( Notes and discussion )
It seems to me there are such powerful principles in these poems, told in such intimate, personal scenes.
What do you hear?
§rf§
It's been at least a year since I painted anything seriously, and more like two.
But artist Brett Manning (![[instagram.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/profile_icons/instagram.png)
brettmannignart)
posts the Faebruary art challenge every February, and I like the prompts.
I am behind, of course, but that's kind of reassuring. At this rate I will have prompts for all of February. Here's prompt #1, Holly King.
* * * * *
The prompts seem kind of wintry this year.
[ETA: right, I was going to explain why it looks like that.]
I'm always a bit rusty when I approach these prompts because I paint very little when school is in session. I need a certain kind of expansiveness in my mind. Also, a certain kind of exhaustion helps. Maybe they go together.
Anyway, the first painting in a series can be a bit all over the place because of that. This is much less polished than I'd like, but I thought I should post it to get myself back in the habit.
In this case, I was looking at some stickers I had of Kandinsky's art and remembering how much I loved his playful visual language, and thinking it would be nice to make the king's portrait kind of break up into abstraction.
I can't really justify the combination of this style and fairy lore -- it's a strange soup, and not helped by my haphazard execution.
Oh well -- day one!
* * * * *
These days most Insta artists seem to have moved to Patreon, which makes sense for money and flexibility but renders them much harder to find.
2025 is probably the last year I will participate in the art challenge. I've always loved it, but it happens on Instagram, and even if I weren't trying to work out what to do about the ethical situation, the designers have rendered the platform useless for sharing art.
Cross-posted fromradiantfracture on Instagram.
But artist Brett Manning (
brettmannignart)posts the Faebruary art challenge every February, and I like the prompts.
I am behind, of course, but that's kind of reassuring. At this rate I will have prompts for all of February. Here's prompt #1, Holly King.
* * * * *
The prompts seem kind of wintry this year.
[ETA: right, I was going to explain why it looks like that.]
I'm always a bit rusty when I approach these prompts because I paint very little when school is in session. I need a certain kind of expansiveness in my mind. Also, a certain kind of exhaustion helps. Maybe they go together.
Anyway, the first painting in a series can be a bit all over the place because of that. This is much less polished than I'd like, but I thought I should post it to get myself back in the habit.
In this case, I was looking at some stickers I had of Kandinsky's art and remembering how much I loved his playful visual language, and thinking it would be nice to make the king's portrait kind of break up into abstraction.
I can't really justify the combination of this style and fairy lore -- it's a strange soup, and not helped by my haphazard execution.
Oh well -- day one!
* * * * *
These days most Insta artists seem to have moved to Patreon, which makes sense for money and flexibility but renders them much harder to find.
2025 is probably the last year I will participate in the art challenge. I've always loved it, but it happens on Instagram, and even if I weren't trying to work out what to do about the ethical situation, the designers have rendered the platform useless for sharing art.
Cross-posted from
radiantfracture on Instagram.Including in-jokes about the weird scholarly treatment of ancient Mesopotamian epics.
Book tracking sites?
Jan. 13th, 2025 01:15 pmAdvisors! Wise ones!
K. and M. and I were talking about getting back in to book-tracking, and I know just recently I saw some conversation here about the better apps for that.
(NB I need a better tracker for my DW-reading-list reading.)
I know some folks track on DW or in a spreadsheet -- I do that myself, loosely -- but as a group we'd like something a bit more sociable. (They're not active on DW.)
Do you have any suggestions for non-Goodreads apps? Notes from use?
I think what we are mainly looking for is simple -- a way to track reading and share thoughts about it with one another. I'm not looking for any broader functionality and I am particularly not looking for a site that wants me to engage with it like a social media site. That is, I understand that no site is perfect, and all stars must run on some fuel, but these features are uninteresting or anathema to me:
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K. and M. and I were talking about getting back in to book-tracking, and I know just recently I saw some conversation here about the better apps for that.
(NB I need a better tracker for my DW-reading-list reading.)
I know some folks track on DW or in a spreadsheet -- I do that myself, loosely -- but as a group we'd like something a bit more sociable. (They're not active on DW.)
Do you have any suggestions for non-Goodreads apps? Notes from use?
I think what we are mainly looking for is simple -- a way to track reading and share thoughts about it with one another. I'm not looking for any broader functionality and I am particularly not looking for a site that wants me to engage with it like a social media site. That is, I understand that no site is perfect, and all stars must run on some fuel, but these features are uninteresting or anathema to me:
- Promoting things
- Having things promoted to me
- Being invited to sign up for newsletters
- Getting alerts about anything ever
- The risk of interacting with actual authors
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Two things about Gilgamesh make a post.
Jan. 12th, 2025 06:28 pm1. A Helle of a Dissertation (sorry sorry sorry)
In dawdling about the Internet preparing for a conversation on Gilgamesh, I stumbled across Sophus Helle's dissertation.1
The dissertation is not itself about Gilgamesh, but about authorship -- Helle's other great interest being Enheduanna as the first named author of an ancient text.
I am engaged by his thesis, which suggests that authorship -- which is not a universal among pre-modern and early modern texts -- arises out of cultural crisis, the need to condense identity from a shared cultural body of literature into a single figure.
From the committee's notes:
I have not read the entire dissertation -- only the preliminary notes so far! -- but I find this at least an interesting and in some ways a congenial thesis.
From the committee's notes again, Helle's approach seems both sane and useful:
The overall response of the committee is rather what I would expect of commentary on a dissertation by Helle: that the work is inspired, even brilliant, but also a little bit scattershot and neglectful of detail.
Here it is if you want to look at it too.
2. The Operatic Gilgamesh
There is a new opera based on Gilgamesh!
It's Australian. From 2024. The images associated with it appear to include Enkidu and Gilgamesh smearing (bull's?) blood all over each other.
Now I have to try to figure out whether there is a recording and if so, how I can see it.
§rf§
1. If you don't happen to be a ridiculous Gilgamesh fentity, I'll note that Helle is a current rock star of ancient text translation and the creator of my fave version of Gilgamesh. And, as Jasmine points out, his website is an academic thirst trap.
2. I do need an Ancient Texts icon of some kind.
In dawdling about the Internet preparing for a conversation on Gilgamesh, I stumbled across Sophus Helle's dissertation.1
The dissertation is not itself about Gilgamesh, but about authorship -- Helle's other great interest being Enheduanna as the first named author of an ancient text.
I am engaged by his thesis, which suggests that authorship -- which is not a universal among pre-modern and early modern texts -- arises out of cultural crisis, the need to condense identity from a shared cultural body of literature into a single figure.
From the committee's notes:
Helle’s main argument is that authorship rose to prominence in an otherwise anonymous culture during times of cultural crises .... demographic, linguistic, and political upheaval that threatened the authority of cuneiform scholarship. Tradition had to be protected, and to do so, it had to be condensed into the figure of the author.
I have not read the entire dissertation -- only the preliminary notes so far! -- but I find this at least an interesting and in some ways a congenial thesis.
From the committee's notes again, Helle's approach seems both sane and useful:
Arguing that authorship in the ancient world should be studied as cultural narratives rather than as an empirical reality, Helle demonstrates that narratives of authorship are “a crucial and often overlooked source of information of how literary texts were perceived, categorized, and evaluated” (67).
The overall response of the committee is rather what I would expect of commentary on a dissertation by Helle: that the work is inspired, even brilliant, but also a little bit scattershot and neglectful of detail.
Here it is if you want to look at it too.
2. The Operatic Gilgamesh
There is a new opera based on Gilgamesh!
It's Australian. From 2024. The images associated with it appear to include Enkidu and Gilgamesh smearing (bull's?) blood all over each other.
Now I have to try to figure out whether there is a recording and if so, how I can see it.
§rf§
1. If you don't happen to be a ridiculous Gilgamesh fentity, I'll note that Helle is a current rock star of ancient text translation and the creator of my fave version of Gilgamesh. And, as Jasmine points out, his website is an academic thirst trap.
2. I do need an Ancient Texts icon of some kind.