LITTLE MASTER

—for CMD

Little master, when I am gone, the gold rings on my fingers

Will be yours—I hope like clover they bring you luck.

We are only once men but twice boys.

You thought I was something— your hand in

Mine—your footstep in my stride—and now I

Hold your hand. 

The cropped world of Mrs.—taut and nervous—

Allows no space for the unexamined chin scrape, the

Unexplained bruise on the shin—we must talk about it—

There are no paths for you, Hunter, Warrior—guided by

Mars against a world that has declared its war on you in

Rules—quiet!—in commands—be still—and judgments—don’t cry.

The nuns once corrected my bold barbarian cursive.

The lack of memory for it all—except for the fiery dance of victory

On the noonday field and the implicit understanding that the other team

Is not dancing—and in those faces without victory you recognize your

Own defeated twin—they don’t acknowledge that about you.

In the Forest Nod of Lancelot and Galahad you meet your own

Christ—and there gently pluck the rose and hold it soft to your cheek—

Firmly tame the lioness to obey—master, master—master yourself—

And, little man, be nothing like me.

Autumn 2009

Dan Davis, © 2009

Je ne suis pas plus forte qu’une autre. Je cumule plutôt les faiblesses comme on cumule les bon-points. Si je deviens masochiste en sus, j’aurai une image. Alors j’y travaille.

Je crois en pleins de choses et surtout en pleins de gens. Je crois qu’au fond je suis une femme qui aime aimer. Ne vous méprenez pas, je ne suis pas amoureuse de l’amour pour autant. Ce ne sont pas les chimères qui m’attirent, ni les chabadabadas, ni même les papillons dans le ventre, les paumes moites et l’air imbécile. Enfin quoique…

Non mon truc à moi c’est les montagnes russes, c’est de vibrer à en crier, c’est d’avoir mal tellement c’est fort, et lendemain me laisser bercer par la douceur du quotidien, c’est d’être prise par surprise, collée au mur (parfois au sens propre comme au figuré), émue, trahie aussi. Ah oui par ce que mon autre truc à moi, c’est les histoires qui finissent mal, qui font mal, enfin en amour tout au moins. Alors à chaque fois j’ai l’impression d’exploser sous l’impact, je me disloque, je me répands (parfois au propre comme au figuré – bis) et je me promets de ne plus jamais recommencer.

Et je rempile à chaque fois. Evidemment. Je ne fais pas exprès pourtant, mais je crois que c’est trop bon de violer ses principes. Le tiède a si peu de saveur. La raisonnabilité (si si ça existe) a un gout d’ennui, la prudence un gout de déprime. Moi j’aime manger épicé, avoir des sueurs, me glacer les dents, me bruler la langue ! Alors petit à petit, je recolle les morceaux. Je suis un Terminator. L’amour me jette par la fenêtre ? M’en tape. I’ll be back.

Oh évidemment ce n’est pas parce qu’on sait qu’on s’en remettra que ça fait moins mal. Je ne kiffe pas particulièrement me prendre un mur. Je pleure comme tout le monde, je chouine comme tout le monde, je dors avec mon téléphone comme tout le monde. Chaque nuit je regarde clignoter inlassablement mon Blackberry en espérant qu’il passe au rouge, preuve d’un signe, signe de lui.

Je prends mon bain avec mon kit mains libres comme tout le monde, et dois surmonter des crises existentielles quand je dois me laver les cheveux comme tout le monde. Après tout s’il choisissait d’appeler justement là ?

J’arrête de me nourrir au cas où il reviendrait, et fou en l’air 5 ans de régime parce qu’après tout il ne reviendra pas. Alors,  je reprends la diète parce que justement c’est mort, et que je ne suis pas toute seule sur le marché. Et je me rejette sur le chocolat parce que le marché moi j’en veux pas. C’est lui qu’il me fallait. La douleur est sœur de la mauvaise foi, c’est la catharsis de mes mauvais penchants.

J’envois des mails post-rupture-animal-triste, comme tout le monde. Et je cherche à pirater sa boite mail comme tout le monde pour l’effacer. Je le zappe de Facebook, je le zappe plusieurs fois, comme tout le monde. Je le bloque, le débloque pour voir s’il m’a bloquée, j’efface son numéro, retrouve son numéro. Je brule toutes nos photos comme tout le monde…

Je l’aime, je le déteste. Je m’aime, je me déteste. Après tout, il y a de grandes chances pour que ce soit moi qui l’ai quitté. J’ai mal, et je fais le dos rond. Je lèche mes blessures comme tout le monde, puis je replonge plus ou moins rapidement dans le tourbillon de la vie. Je repars avec mes bleus, mes bosses, mes casseroles dignes de la cuisine d’un 5 étoiles. Je finis même par en rigoler. Je finis même par fêter ça, avec les amis, ceux qui ne me quittent jamais, ceux que je ne plaque jamais.

Je suis prête pour une autre aventure. Enfin non pas vraiment. Comme d’habitude je décide d’y aller tout doucement, j’ai l’impression d’être une rescapée. Enfin j’ai surtout l’impression de ramer ! Et malgré tout ça, les fiascos les échecs, les virages trop abrupts, les salauds (fallait bien que je le dise), les menteurs, les lâches et les autres, je n’ai pas envie de regretter et encore moins d’oublier.

J’aime aimer. C’est peut-être finalement ma force à moi. Je suis Saint-Georges à l’assaut des Garçons, Lancelot du Lac en quête du Saint Mâle, une plume Phénix, un poil coriace, et toujours un tantinet pouffiasse. Quoi qu’il en soit j’ai déjà hâte de foncer, de repartir sur mon manège, mon grand huit, ma grande échelle…

True knighthood is the Holy Grail of manhood, a revelation attainable only by the pure.  The proud are ever barred from taking a draught from it.

Our very captivation with the Holy Grail consists in the fact that it has not been found and only few have even seen it.  And, of course, the reason that the mysterious cup remains ever out of reach for the ordinary man and is because its quest is fraught with danger:  fearful obstacles, inscrutable riddles, and deadly foes.

To those who possess true manliness, such obstacles are the reason why The Quest is so appealing.  By definition manliness is the penchant to overcome obstacles. The more hopeless the attainment, the bigger and better is the man who laughs in the face perils to be found there.  Those who are lesser men still aspire to the Grail, but fear leads them to experience the danger only vicariously by following along at a safe distance, through spectator sports, litrerature and movies.

And yet there is a temptation in that boldness to which those gallant men of the Round Table too easily succumb.  The bigger and better that a man thinks he is, the more likely he is to fail utterly in attaining the goal.  Gawain, for example, showed himself the fool for this very reason.  And Lancelot had to be taken down a few notches (many actually) before he was even granted a partial fulfillment of his desire.  Galahad attained the grail, not so much by his prowess, but more so, by his humility and purity.

There is a strange and wonderful coincidence of opposites in the embodiment of true chivalry:  courage, strength, boldness and skill, on the one hand; reverence, humility, meekness, and deference on the other.

In a sermon written during his Anglican Period, entitled, “The Weapons of the Saints,” Venerable John Henry Cardinal Newman couched the spiritual life in terms of a war in which the stratagem for victory demands an inversion of worldly values:

But in that kingdom which Christ has set up, all is contrariwise. “The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds.” What was before in honour, has been dishonoured; what before was in dishonour, has come to honour; what before was successful, fails; what before failed, succeeds.

It is this inversion that constitutes the real difficulty to the attainment of the Holy Grail of true knighthood.  It is the riddle of riddles.  The Black Knight, enemy of our souls, guards the bridge that leads to the hermit who is ensconced away from the manners of worldly men.  It is from him that we are to unlearn our pride and find the real weapons by which we are to succeed in our quest.

Cardinal Newman’s sermon is a commentary on Our Lord’s words: Many that are first shall be last, and the last shall be first (Mt 19:30).  And he supports his thesis from many other passages of the New Testament concerning, for example, strength made perfect in weakness (2 Cor 12:9), the of putting down the proud and the exalting of the humble (Lk 1:52), the blessedness of those who suffer and the woes of those who are satisfied (Mt 5:2-10; Lk 6:24-26), and God’s choice of the weak and despised to do his work (1 Cor 1:27).  It should be abundantly clear to anyone with a modicum of familiarity with scripture that God triumphs in and through those who have rejected worldly ambition and self-assuredness.

The invisible powers of the heavens, truth, meekness, and righteousness, are ever coming in upon the earth, ever pouring in, gathering, thronging, warring, triumphing, under the guidance of Him who “is alive and was dead, and is alive for evermore.”

Truth, meekness and righteousness, according to Venerable Newman, are the real weapons of the saints, the means by which they are victorious over Satan, sin and death.  The Holy Grail of Christian Knighthood is so hidden that in order to find it the knight must lose himself in the process.

This is that intangible, greater thing, after which young men aspire.  It is the stuff of true nobility.  It is strength without arrogance, command without self-interest.

Venerable Newman notes that “we like to hear marvellous tales, which throw us out of things as they are, and introduce us to things that are not.”  The paradox of the cross and of the victorious King who triumphs through His own death is the cosmic myth, the retelling of which is the incantation that opens the sealed doors of our hearts. He that openeth and no man shutteth, shutteth and no man openeth, is the only one with the key (Ap 3:7).

The beloved disciple saw Him mounted on a white horse, and going forth “conquering and to conquer.” “And the armies which were in heaven followed Him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean. And out of His mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it He should smite the nations, and He shall rule them with a rod of iron.” [Rev. xix. 14, 15.]

The Quest of the Holy Grail is a lesser myth, as are all other stories when compared to the gospel myth in which the most fantastic tale is merged with history, and where what Tolkien called eucatastrophe, a literary climax beyond our wildest hopes, is made the substance of all our hopes and the ground upon which we walk in the daylight of this world.

Indeed, the return of the king in Tolkien’s mythology is an ascendency by way of descent.  Aragorn and the Dúnedain are content to be despised if that will better equip them to protect and defend the peoples of Middle Earth.  Aragorn himself must choose the path leading downward, literally underground, through the Paths of the Dead under the White Mountains, like Christ in His harrowing of hell, if he is to triumph on behalf of those entrusted to his care.

After Gandalf  had “passed through fire and deep water,” and had completed his own christic transformation, he delivered a message to Aragorn from the Lady of Light, Galadriel:

Where now are the Dúnedain, Elessar, Elessar?
Why do thy kinsfolk wander afar?
Near is the hour when the Lost should come forth,
And the Grey Company ride from the North.
But dark is the path appointed for thee:
The Dead watch the road that leads to the Sea (Book III, Chapter V).

Aragorn chose the path of truth, meekness and righteousness.  He was prepared to face his fear, and he was not afraid to confront his own ego with the double-edged sword of God’s truth.  He chose to go down in order to go up, to be last in order to be first.  Yet the myth of Aragorn cannot be a vicarious substitute for our own humiliation.  We must really experience it.  Newman has it right:

We so love the idea of the invisible, that we even build fabrics in the air for ourselves, if heavenly truth be not vouchsafed us. We love to fancy ourselves involved in circumstances of danger or trial, and acquitting ourselves well under them. Or we imagine some perfection, such as earth has not, which we follow, and render it our homage and our heart. Such is the state more or less of young persons before the world alters them, before the world comes upon them, as it often does very soon, with its polluting, withering, debasing, deadening influence, before it breathes on them, and blights and parches, and strips off their green foliage, and leaves them, as dry and wintry trees without sap or sweetness.

We must not loose our idealism as we grow older, but “heavenly truth” should purify our tendency to experience knighthood vicariously through its trappings and shards.  Ours is to be the knighthood of the real Dúnedain, a hidden knighthood in search of the hidden, but very real Holy Grail.

As a Franciscan, I have had many opportunities to reflect upon the militant example of Saints Francis and Maximilian, and of the great tertiary St. Louis of France.  The Holy Patriarch of the Seraphic Order, Our Holy Father St. Francis, was well aware of the Arthurian legends and aspired to knighthood and the Holy Grail himself.  Later, after he too had chosen the path downward, he called the simple brothers who lived in seclusion and despised status and pomp, his “Knights of the Round Table.”

In this last week of ordinary time, during the “octave” of the Feast of Christ the King, we look for His return at the end of the world, when he will preside over the cosmic resolution to the perennial struggle of St. Michael and the dragon.  Then He will raise his wounded hands over the universe and all of us will be witnesses of the full revelation of His truth, a more powerful illumination than possession of the Grail itself.  Then we will all know what true chivalry is and whether we are worthy to drink from the cup filled by the hands of Him who carried the sword of truth and slayed the dragon by His humble acceptance of our condition and by His willing suffering and death.

The weapons of the true knight are those of the saints: truth, meekness and righteousness.  They are best fitted to help us along the way of our Quest, a path that leads up a narrow crag in a mountain.  But this path to the heights strangely leads us downward by many uneven steps, until we arrive in the sanctuary of the Holy Grail and find rest in the yoke of Christ on the Holy Mountain of His Passion, Death and Resurrection.

Lancelot attends the ESSFTA meet at Purina Farms

The second day of our trip to St. Louis to attend the English Springer Spaniel Field Trial Association was a long one.  We got going bright and early so we would be ready to run.

Day two started with Standard Class.  It was, to be kind, a rather confused run.  Take a look:

The second run was Jumpers with Weaves.  It was a twisty, curvy run and we qualified, earning 9 points and our third “Q” in Excellent B Jumpers.  Here I go:

Then we packed up the car and 7 or so hours later we were home for dinner!

The devilishly difficult but oh so rewarding Ghouls & Ghosts has been released in Japan for the iPhone and iPod Touch reports Andriasang. Going under the Japanese name for the series, Makaimura (Ghouls & Ghosts) Kishi Retsuden can either play as traditional Authur or newbie Lancelot. Much like the Rock Band App, we’ll have the option to buy more content for the game post release such as infinite lives and power-ups. Hang on, infinite lives? Doesn’t that remove the challenge and enjoyment? There’s still no news as to when it will come to the west but I can’t imagine it’ll be long before we get to cramp our thumbs on the virtual d-pad used for controlling the game.

            La quête du Graal, ce vase sacré qui servit à recueillir le sang du Christ lors de sa crucifixion, n’intéresse pas Robert Bresson. En effet, le film, réalisé en 1974 sur un scénario qui concentre à la fois le Chevalier à la charrette de Chrétien de Troyes et l’ensemble du Lancelot-Graal, débute précisément par l’échec de cette quête. Tous les éléments dramatiques relatifs à cette quête sont en effet rejetés dans le texte du générique et l’histoire que nous raconte le cinéaste commence précisément au moment où bien d’autres films mettant en scène les chevaliers de la Table Ronde finissent. Lancelot entre dans la cour du château de Camelot, s’agenouille devant le roi Arthur et lui avoue son échec dans la conquête du vase sacré. La scène que nous étudions se situe juste après cette arrivée nocturne et fonctionne comme un doublon symétrique de la rencontre avec le roi, puisqu’au petit matin, Lancelot s’agenouille devant la reine Guenièvre et lui avoue l’échec de son amour. Il ne ramène pas le Graal à Arthur, ni l’anneau à Guenièvre. En effet, s’il a vu le Graal, comme il le confie dans cette scène, il n’a pu s’en emparer à cause de son adultère avec Guenièvre. Dans cette scène de retrouvailles avec la reine de Bretagne, il va donc lui demander de le délier du serment d’amour qui les unit et que l’anneau symbolise. Une voix divine lui a en effet demandé de mettre fin à cet amour qui dépasse les relations courtoises entre la domina et son vassal car la conquête du vase sacré ne saurait être menée à bien par un chevalier qui commet l’adultère.

                     Ce qui frappe d’emblée dans cette scène de retrouvailles, c’est le sentiment de dépouillement dans le décor, le dialogue et le jeu des acteurs. En effet, cette séquence se déroule dans une sorte de grange avec une porte grinçante à l’entrée, des seaux et des récipients de paysans puis une échelle en bois qui mène à un grenier où s’entasse de la paille contre des murs ocre décrépis. Cette simplicité choque le spectateur qui s’attendait à des retrouvailles dans une chambre de reine richement parée ou dans une chapelle forestière plus secrète, comme c’est le cas dans le Lancelot-Graal. Comme l’écrit Gracq, fasciné par le Graal depuis Le Roi pêcheur, Bresson manifeste une « fureur inextinguible de couper, de sabrer l’inessentiel ». Pour suggérer une rencontre secrète entre les deux amants, un travelling en plongée sur les jambes du chevalier qui traverse une forêt avant de se rendre dans la grange suffit à sanctuariser le lieu secret qui prend une nouvelle dimension. Mais cette simplicité touche aussi le dialogue qui est minimaliste :

- Lancelot

- Guenièvre

- tu es vivant et tu es là. Rien plus jamais ne t’écarteras de moi.

- Tout est tâché pour nous autres en Bretagne.

- Je ne puis plus attendre, dis le ce mot

- je t’aime

                 Bresson, encore une fois, « sabre() l’inessentiel », il réduit l’échange à son noyau le plus signifiant, comme s’il s’agissait de renforcer l’intensité de la parole en n’en montrant que la « substantifique moelle ». Contrairement à Rohmer dans Perceval, Bresson ne cherche pas du tout à retrouver le verbe de Chrétien de Troyes : Lancelot et Guenièvre parlent comme deux amants de notre époque. En outre, le cinéaste congédie toute référence au caractère mythique des deux protagonistes : Guenièvre n’est pas une fée, Lancelot ne ressemble pas à l’image que l’on se fait d’un héros élevé dans le royaume aquatique de Viviane. Bresson les fait parler simplement et demande aux deux acteurs un jeu que l’on pourrait qualifier de hiératique. Aucune expression n’anime le visage grave de Guenièvre qui semble déclamer son texte en fixant un point fixe imaginaire. Leur échange est mécanique : lorsque Guenièvre entre, Lancelot se retourne par exemple en décomposant son geste en trois mouvements : on le voit de dos, puis il se met de profil, puis il tourne son corps de face avant, enfin, de tourner sa tête, comme une marionnette mécanique. Cette mécanique que l’on retrouve dans le regard fixe et dans la diction de Guenièvre est renforcé par un cérémonial courtois hautement codifié : Lancelot met un genou à terre, puis prend le bas de l’étoffe de sa robe qu’il porte à ses lèvres. Il répète ensuite son agenouillement dans le grenier. Bresson nous montre que le chevalier éponyme ne fait que suivre un code courtois en anticipant sans cesse ses mouvements par un cadrage sur la fin de ce mouvement. Il cadre par exemple en gros plan la robe de Guenièvre avant que Lancelot ne s’agenouille, avec un effet d’attente qui est produit et qui donne l’impression que le chevalier ne pouvait que se baisser. Il répète le procédé dans le grenier lorsque Lancelot lui présente sa main sans anneau. Pourtant, de même que l’intensité de la parole des personnages est renforcée par son minimalisme, il semble ici que ce côté mécanique de la scène renforce sa puissance. Dans ses Notes sur le cinématographe, Bresson semble confirmer cette impression puisqu’il écrit : « C’est de la contrainte à une régularité mécanique, c’est d’une mécanique que naîtra l’émotion ». Autrement dit, c’est justement en nous montrant la figure froide de Guenièvre qui ne laisse rien transparaître et qui s’éloigne du champ à la fin de la séquence que Bresson renforce le pathétique de la scène. La douleur est contenue, l’on ne voit pas de larmes de la reine, aucune musique ne renforce la scission entre les deux amants. Au contraire, Bresson ne nous montre rien. Dans sa conférence de presse de 1974 au sujet de Lancelot, le cinéaste fera d’ailleurs une distinction entre le pornographe qui montre et le cinématographe qui cache, qui suggère. Ici, le simple départ de la reine qui laisse Lancelot seul, de profil, et les sons qui accompagnent ce départ en hors champ : les pas sur l’échelle, la porte qui s’ouvre, le loquet qui produit son cliquetis métallique et le bois qui claque contre le chambranle de la porte sont plus éloquents que des larmes, des cris ou une musique.  

                     Dans cette séquence, il n’y a en effet aucune musique d’accompagnement et aucun mouvement virtuose de la caméra. La succession assez sèche des plans fixes semble inféodée à une orchestration de la scène par les bruits et les sons diégétisés. En effet, on entend le son d’une petite cloche qui rythme la séquence. Le bruit de cette cloche, qui annonce la messe semble-t-il, s’estompe lorsque Guenièvre arrive, mais reprend dès que Lancelot lui parle de la voix qu’il a entendue. Cette suspension du son crée l’atmosphère de mystère que Bresson refusait de susciter par le jeu des acteurs ou par un decorum précieux. La cloche s’estompe car la simple présence de Guenièvre est assez forte pour l’éloigner. Mais la mention de cette « voix » annonce la demande de rupture du lien qui unit les deux amants et provoque la réapparition du son de la cloche. On admire alors la subtilité du cinéaste pour créer du mystère avec l’absence de sons et de la douleur avec les bruits du départ de la reine. De même, c’est par la perfection de son montage que Bresson parvient à créer une émotion sans passer par les oripeaux habituels du cinéma. Les personnages sont vus par des petites touches extrêmement précises : il privilégie les plans fixes sur le profil de l’un puis de l’autre renonçant au champ contre-champ habituel pour les scènes de dialogue. Bresson fragmente et aplatit l’image, « comme avec un fer à repasser » suivant ses propos dans Notes sur le cinématographe. En effet, il ne veut pas créer d’images signifiantes pour ne pas tomber dans la « représentation » qui n’est en aucun cas l’art du cinématographe. Mais c’est le spectateur qui doit lier ce que le cinéaste lui suggère : le sens et l’émotion jaillissent de leur confrontation d’images non signifiantes en elle-même, mais chargées de signification par leur juxtaposition. Les seuls mouvements que Bresson s’autorise dans cette séquence sont des mouvements ascensionnels : lorsque Lancelot se relève, lorsque Guenièvre monte sur l’échelle.

                   Ces mouvements ascensionnels découpent l’espace de manière étrange. En abandonnant le champ contre-champ, Bresson déplace la confrontation entre les deux amants vers un autre plan, plus spirituel. En effet, cette séquence nous raconte le tiraillement de Lancelot entre son serment d’amour à la reine et son serment de fidélité à la voix divine. C’est une problématique extrêmement importante dans le cycle du Lancelot Graal puisque ce héros symbolise le passage de la chevalerie courtoise à la chevalerie « célestielle » inspirée de Citeaux. L’ensemble du cycle montre que le vocabulaire de la courtoisie et celui de la religion sont imbriqués, la joï pouvant être charnelle ou mystique, et Lancelot – ou plus précisément son fils Galaad par sa réussite là où son père échouait – incarne cette incertitude (« Incertitude » devait d’ailleurs être le premier titre du film). Cette incertitude entre le serment à la dame et le serment à Dieu est rendue sensible par Bresson par son découpage de la scène non par la confrontation horizontale attendue entre les personnages, mais par une dynamique verticale. Les mouvements de la caméra sont ascensionnels et la grange est découpée en deux étages reliés par une échelle.

                   Bresson, tout en gardant un dialogue simple et un décor dépouillé, parvient à spiritualiser la scène en montrant que les paroles de Lancelot ne sont pas celles d’un simple homme coupable d’adultère, mais celles d’un homme tiraillé entre un plan terrestre et un plan céleste. Cette séquence est tout d’abord spiritualisée par son environnement (ce que Bresson dit à propos de la juxtaposition des plans fonctionne également pour celle des séquences) : en effet, les cloches annoncent une cérémonie religieuse et la séquence sera en effet suivie par une messe en compagnie du roi. Mais le traitement lui-même de la scène montre que le cinéaste s’efforce de montrer que la confrontation entre la reine de Bretagne et la fleur de la chevalerie est d’essence métaphysique. Il parvient en effet à faire émerger une dimension sublime et grave en donnant une dimension religieuse à la scène. Guenièvre porte une robe bleue et un manteau rouge. En iconographie chrétienne, ce sont les deux couleurs réservées à la Vierge Marie et à Jésus-Christ. En effet, le bleu symbolise le lien avec le ciel, la divinité tandis que le rouge symbolise le sang du Christ, ce sang qui coule dans le Graal et qui matérialise le mystère de l’Incarnation. Il ne me semble pas abusif de comparer ainsi Guenièvre à la figure christique, d’autant que dans cette même grange, elle dira à Lancelot : « Prends ce corps interdit. Prends le, ressuscite-le ». On retrouve-là toute l’imbrication du vocabulaire érotique et religieux qui caractérise le Lancelot-Graal. La couleur bleue de la robe que baise Lancelot peut renvoyer au ciel, d’autant que cette impression est redoublée par l’apparition quasi céleste de Guenièvre dans l’entrée de la grange puisqu’elle sort progressivement de l’obscurité et par le symbole de l’échelle qui, dans le « Songe de Jacob », matérialise le lien entre l’humain et le divin.

                   Le dépouillement du décor peut alors être réinterprété dans une perspective christique. La simplicité de la grange présente la même puissance que la simplicité de la crèche de l’Enfant-Jésus. Ce qui se dit d’essentiel ne se déroule pas dans le faste des grandes cours, mais dans l’humilité d’une crèche ou d’une grange. Tout le hiératisme du jeu de Guenièvre est tributaire de cette vision : elle quitte le grenier de la grange en croisant ses mains sur sa poitrine, exactement comme dans le tableau de l’Annonciation de Fra Angelico où les mains croisées expriment une posture d’humilité face à la parole divine. Enfin, il faut souligner la beauté de cette séquence malgré le dépouillement de son décor. Cette grange que l’on reverra plusieurs fois avec des variantes (la pie notamment) permet à Bresson d’exprimer une puissance métaphysique dans l’humilité d’un décor simple, un peu comme a pu le faire Giotto où la force divine irradie également de postures et de décors dépouillés. D’autant que la paille dorée et les murs ocres légèrement fissurés de la grange crée un arrière-fond qui rappelle beaucoup l’arrière-plan des toiles du grand maître italien.

                  Ainsi, Bresson met en scène la confrontation attendue entre deux héros que le spectateur connaît par ses lectures avec un traitement sonore et visuel tout à fait particulier. Il parvient en effet à faire jaillir le sens profond de cette scène primordiale dans le récit par la simplicité hiératique du jeu d’acteur, le dépouillement des décors et de la parole, et la juxtaposition d’images qui prennent une signification par leur liaison. Mais ce dépouillement du décor ne transpose pas la confrontation entre la reine et le chevalier dans un registre trivial, comme on aurait pu s’y attendre, mais au contraire spiritualise la scène. Cette grange est déréalisée, elle prend la forme d’un lieu sanctuarisé qui rappelle des compositions picturales religieuses. Mais cette déréalisation du décor ne va pas du tout dans le sens d’une abstraction grâce à la précision du bruitage et du son diégétisé qui lui donnent une accroche concrète.

I’ll be back! Kirin Hobby is now accepting preorders for the T-800 half-scale bust from Terminator 2, featuring a removable brain chip, light-up eyes and base, and comes with a plexi display case. Another exciting release presented by Yamato is the Dai Shogun Kiriko Hattori ninja costume figure designed by Shunya Yamashita. Other upcoming releases include Figma Aegis from Persona 3 games,the new Figma Saber and Shiro casual wear action figures from the Fate/Stay Night anime series, and Miku Hatsune figure from the Vocaloid series, all produced by Max Factory.

Hot off the truck! Bandai action figures and trading figures from Code Geass, Mazinger Z, and Street Fighter IV. Revoltech Queen’s Blade Echidna and Nanael action figures are now in stock. Also new in stock is the beautiful Yoko from Gurren Lagann produced by Alter.

Enjoy!
Edward

Tamashii Street Fighter IV mini-statues set (case of 9) [Figure] by Bandai
Soul of Popynica: PX-04 Hover Pileder [Action Figure] by Bandai
Soul of Chogokin: Tamashii GX-49 Shin Mazinger Z [Action Figure] by Bandai
Robot Spirits: Code Geass Knightmare Frame Lancelot Albion [Action Figure] by Bandai
Mazinger Z: Shin Mazinger Z [Model Kit] by Bandai
SIF! EX Umi Monogatari: Marin [Figure] by Yamato
SIF! EX Rurouni Kenshin: Best Of Trading Figures (Complete set of 6) [Figure] by Yamato
SIF! EX Needless: Eve [Figure] by Yamato
Fantasy Figure Gallery: Luis Royo ~ A Touch of Ice [Figure] by Yamato
Dai Shogun: Kiriko Hattori Ninja Costume ver (Shunya Yamashita) [Figure] by Yamato
Gurren Lagann: Yoko Littner Mysterious Bounty Hunter [Figure] by Alter
Fate/Unlimited Codes: Saber Lily [Figure] by Alter
Revoltech Queen’s Blade No.005 Melona [Action Figure] by Kaiyodo
Revoltech Queen’s Blade No.004 Nanael [Action Figure] by Kaiyodo
Revoltech Queen’s Blade No.003 Echidna (Ekidona) [Action Figure] by Kaiyodo
Final Fantasy IX (FF9) Set of 3 ~ Zidane, Vivi, Garnet [Action Figure] by Square Enix
Queen’s Blade: P-7 Nanael 2P Mega Hobby ver [Figure] by Megahouse
Queen’s Blade: Listy EX Excellent Model Core [Figure] by Megahouse
Nendoroid Black Butler: Sebastian Michaelis [Action Figure] by Good Smile Company
Vocaloid2: Miku Hatsune [Figure] by Max Factory
Figma # 051 Fate/Stay Night: Shiro Emiya Casual Wear ver. [Action Figure] by Max Factory
Figma # 050 Fate/Stay Night: Saber Casual Wear ver. [Action Figure] by Max Factory
Figma # 049 Persona 3: Aigis (Aegis) [Action Figure] by Max Factory
Terminator T-2: T-800 Half Scale Endoskeleton Bust [Figure] by Toynami

by David Paul Appell

Part of the dramatic ruins of Tintagel Castle, on the craggy Cornish coast.

More than a few non-Brits have at least vaguely heard of a place called Cornwall — maybe even that its duke is Prince Charles and its duchess Camilla (née Parker-Bowles), and that it’s in the southwest of England. If they’re really up on this 1,376-square-mile region, they know it’s Celtic in heritage; boasts a dramatically craggy coast; has traditionally been big into fishing and mining (fading in favor of tourism); and is known in the U.K. for its pasties (turnovers filled with meat or other savory or sweet fillings). Oh, and let’s not forget The Pirates of Penzance, Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, and of course Cornish game hens and clotted cream.

With all that cluttering the back of my mind, I’ve always been curious to learn more about this fabled land. So on my last breeze through Britain, I took several days to satisfy my longstanding curiosity. Darned if it didn’t just about blow me away — and I found that Cornwall offers not just spectacular sight s but prices that often compare favorably to the rest of the country. A handful of highlights:

Fowey Pronounced “foy,” this little town at the mouth of the eponymous estuary has built a nice little tourist business on its charming little streets, churches and architecture dating back to the middle ages, and more recently Daphne du Maurier, whose son still lives in the big old house next to the ferry landing across from town. Stop at one of its little hostelries (or the grand Fowey Hall hotel uphill) for a spot of cream tea.

Tintagel If you’re into King Arthur, Lancelot, et al, you’ve surely heard of this town and more importantly this ruined medieval castle perched on a high, windswept Atlantic headland of Cornwall’s north coast. The town itself is cute if now a bit touristy, but you won’t want to miss the hike (or Range Rover shuttle) out to the coast, where you can walk amid jagged 13th-century ruins of the fortified base of the earls of Cornwall. Centuries of embellishment of Arthurian legend made this part of the saga, but in short, proof there’s simply not that this most congenial spot was host to Ca-me-lot.

Boscastle You’ll want to pair Tintagel with a few hours (or even an overnight) in this singular fishing village just down the coast built along a small, very steep valley leading out to a harbor and more headlands with smashing views. Most of the oldest part of town, all stone walls and slate roofs, is given over to shops (pottery’s big), eateries, and B&B’s; an extra pinch o’ magic, as it were, comes from the local Wiccans, who run a couple of shops and even a museum of witchcraft. On a grimmer note, the village had a heartstopping 15 of fame in August 2004, when a dramatic flash flood washed much of it out to sea; thankfully, all the residents were helicoptered to safety. What’s there now is largely rebuilt, though you’d never know the difference.

The Eden Project Looming like something out of a sci-fi movie, this massive, eight-year-old eco-education project carved out of an old china-clay pit mine includes two huge, bubble-shape biomes, one housing a Mediterranean semi-arid biosphere, the other a steamy tropical one. Pretty impressive.

The Lost Gardens of Heligan Also near St. Austell, in the 1990s, overgrown Victorian-era gardens were unearthed and restored, and today they’re more than 200 acres of living, breathing horticultural history, from the antique greenhouses and formal gardens to the Jurassic-looking “Jungle,” with its own microclimate. Nice cafeteria and shop, too.

Newquay Who knew, Cornwall’s Britain’s surfing capital! And this town’s its epicenter, from Fistral Beach (host to September’s national championships) to a downtown crammed with surfer-oriented (and therefore value-oriented) bars, guesthouses, and shops. Plenty of other “soft adventure” options, too, from ziplines and abseiling (aka rapelling) down cliffs to “coasteering” — fast-moving guided tours of the rocky shorelines and sea caves (you’ll need a wet suit). Don’t forget to pop into the Blue Reef Aquarium and down a memorable meal at Jamie Oliver’s Fifteen Cornwall in nearby Watergate Bay.

There’s a lot more I didn’t have a chance to get to. Not one but two old steam railways. The ancient Pendessis and Bude castles. Visitable clay and tin mines.The offshore castle St. Michael’s Mount. Checking out celeb chef Rick Stein’s eateries in Padstow and St. Merryn. The seaside resort town of Penzance. More that’s not even occurring at the moment. All I can say is, stay tuned for “Cornwall Part 2.”  More info: VisitCornwall.com, Cornwall-Online.com.

Este é o segundo volume das Crônicas de Artur do autor Bernard Cornwell. O Inimigo de Deus supera muito o primeiro volume, O Rei do Inverno(vocês podem saber mais sobre, clicando aqui). Mas acho que isso é natural. No primeiro volume, o leitor deve conhecer os personagens, o ambiente e a época. Já no segundo, o escritor tem mais liberdade para trabalhar com a história, pois pode assumir que o leitor leu o primeiro volume e conhece todos os fatores que mencionei.

O Rei do Inverno termina com a vitória de Artur na batalha do Vale do Lugg. Esta foi a melhor descrição de uma batalha que já li. Finalmente Artur conseguiu unificar os reinos britânicos, porém os conflitos entre os critãos e pagãos podem colocar tudo a perder.

É neste contexto que começa a aventura de O Inimigo de Deus. As passagens mais emocionantes da saga de Artur estão neste volume.  O livro prende o leitor e você não consegue parar de ler, não nota o tempo passar. Tudo o que você quer é deixar-se envolver pela história.

Aqui , Cornwell apresenta  a formação da futura “Távola Redonda” e a origem de Excalibur. Mostra a verdadeira face de Lancelot e o verdadeiro objetivo de vida de Merlin. Neste volume, encontram-se passagens que eu gostei muito e entraram para minhas favoritas como a busca do caldeirão de Merlin e a humilhação que Ceinwyn faz Lancelot passar. Esta última também tem o contexto romântico da situação. Não é um romance conto de fadas, mas é bonito, envolvente. E a partir daí, você começa a gostar cada vez mais do incrível Lorde Derfel e em algumas situações, até se esquece que Artur é o centro da história.

Estou lendo o terceiro e último volume, Excalibur e posso dizer que esta trilogia é genial. É irresistível, você fica querendo mais a cada passagem, a cada volume. Não sei o que vou fazer quando terminar. Será difícil me despedir de Derfel.

Não importa se Bernard Cornwell inventou ou não esta história, mas é a melhor história de Artur que já li.

It has been a long time since I watched the movie version of Camelot–probably more than fifteen years.  I may still own a vinyl LP of the soundtrack, but I haven’t listened to that for ages, either.  On a night when I was feeling rather sick, Camelot on Netflix’s lovely Instant Watch feature seemed like just the thing.  The computer is conveniently adjacent to the bed.

Only, as it turned out, it wasn’t just the thing.  Although I fell asleep perhaps two-thirds of the way through, the film I saw wasn’t the film I remembered.  It was a film that had beautiful, irresistible songs (I was actually singing along as I lay in bed), but it wasn’t a film about the parts of the Arthurian legend that I find beautiful and irresistible.  It was a film about an extremely annoying love triangle.

I don’t think I’ve ever liked the character of Lancelot.  There’s a line in the film which sums up the problem very nicely: Lancelot says to Pellinore, “I am a fanatic, Pelly. And I don’t like it any better than you do.”  Lancelot is a fanatic, a perfectionist with but one thing on his mind: His own reputation, his own honor.  Not being perfectly himself, but being The Perfect Knight.  (Perhaps I’ve never liked him because he and I are too much alike.)  His love for Guinevere, however destructive to the kingdom, is for him the chink in his armor, the crack where the light gets in.

That said, I have never understood why any woman, given a choice between Arthur and Lancelot, would choose the latter.  I certainly wouldn’t pick Lancelot over Arthur.  I wouldn’t pick Franco Nero over Richard Harris.  As a teenager I saw an amateur production of the show, on a very small stage.  The actor who played Lancelot was as gay as an Easter parade in the Castro, and the actor who played Arthur was a very good local actor on whom I’d had a crush since I was about ten.  Even at that age I knew who did and did not bat for my team; I had accurate gaydar before the word “gaydar” existed.  There was no way I was picking Lancelot over Arthur.

Yet Guinevere does.  I’m not sure that Redgrave was a good choice for the role; for one thing, she is no singer.  Julie Andrews originated two roles on stage that she did not get to play onscreen: Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady and Guinevere in Camelot.  Andrews is simply my favorite musical theatre actress ever; Redgrave is a wonderful actress in drama, but….  Still, she does look marvelous, and even a not-quite-right performance from someone that good is worth the watching.

The thing I noticed on this viewing which I had never noticed before is just how sexist the story is.  Arthur is married to a woman not of his choosing; they don’t even meet before his wedding day.  He does his best to woo her, to gain her confidence, to take her into his confidence.  It is with Jenny that he talks out many of the ideals which will define his kingdom.  It is to Jenny that he reminisces about Merlin and his strange methods of tutelage.

Then one day Lancelot appears (with the incredibly annoying song “C’est Moi”, about how awesome he is).  Arthur is astonished and delighted, for Merlin predicted that a knight named Lancelot would come and be an important person in the court.  At once, apparently, he stops confiding in his wife and replaces her with his new best friend.  It is now Lance with whom he discusses refining the ideals of knighthood.  Pushed aside in favor of this male/male friendship, it is no wonder that Guinevere resents the intruder–which is precisely what makes her vulnerable to falling for him when he brings back a man from the dead.  Arthur may be a great king, but raising the dead is a tough act to follow.

Arthur muses aloud in the song “How to Handle a Woman”, which contains a throwaway line about how Merlin told him not to worry if he didn’t know what a woman was thinking because they don’t do it very often.  That line has rankled in my chest all week.  The refrain of the song concludes that one must simply, merely love a woman; it doesn’t occur to him that perhaps talking to a woman, accepting her as a friend, taking her back into his confidence, might help.

I have said before that one of the things the Arthurian mythos is about is the right relationship between men and women.  It’s also about all the ways that relationship can go wrong, and especially all the ways in which a man can screw it up.  Arthur is spectacularly unsuccessful with women.  He commits unwitting incest with his own sister and gets a child on her.  He fails to bear a child on his lawful wife and loses her to an illicit relationship, and in some versions, to an abductor as well.  And he is plagued throughout his career by mysterious sorceresses and Ladies of the Lake whom he frequently insults, outrages, or simply mishandles.  What exactly is the man doing wrong?

Arthur might learn a thing or two from his nephew and presumptive heir Sir Gawain.  In the medieval ballad of Sir Gawain and the Loathely Lady, a hideous old woman saves Arthur from death at the hands of a strange knight by giving him the answer to a riddle–on condition that one of his knights must marry her.  When she arrives at court to claim her spouse, Gawain bravely volunteers and discovers on his wedding night that she is enchanted, as fair by night as she is foul by day.  She offers him a choice: She can be beautiful by day, in the sight of all the court, and ugly at night in their private time, or shamefully ugly in public but beautiful by night when they can be intimate.  After dithering over it for a bit, Gawain concludes that she must suffer more from the curse than he does, and so she should be the one to decide on her appearance.  Joyfully the enchanted woman proclaims that he has given her the one answer which can break the evil spell: To have her own will in the matter.

How to handle a woman?  Gawain might say, just like you handle a man.  Treat her as a person with her own will, her own feelings, her own shame and honor.  Let her decide how she wants to present herself to you, and you may find that she presents the best face in all possible situations.

Caes
Lágrima silenciosa
Aullido permanente
Que dobla lentamente
El ánimo de quien te observa.
Sufres.
Sabes.
Piensas
Que no
Puedo.
Sientes
Lo que
Pierdo.
Y las paredes encierran este momento, mujer
En el que la espada del rey está dormida, más el observa
Y aun cuando la guerra no perturba su descanso
No hay dolor más grande que el de tu partida.
Huye.
La espada
Del rey
Ha desperado
Te busca
Tiene sed
De tu sangre
De tu alma
De tu vida.
No detengas
Tu camino
Ni vuelvas
La mirada.
Grande es
Tu pecado.
La culpa
No te es
Desconocida.
Y tus ojos
Rojos de
Tanto llanto
Se abren
En agónico
Suspiro.
Su venganza
Ha encontrado
El rey
V

Hace tiempo yo hice una figura de una espada en este blog… la borré x rancia, y ahora renace como un caligrama… poema bastante raro, hay q leer el titulo para entenderlo (y a la vez, encontrarlo mas raro, xq el rey arturo nunka mató a su reina, creo)

No se q me dio con el femicidio o.oU

Day three starts fresh and I was ready.  My first run of the day was in Excellent B Jumpers with Weaves.  That is the top class and no errors are allowed.  I was focused and fast and got my first “Q” or qualifying run of the weekend.  This is my first “Q” in Excellent B and that means I can start earning points toward my Master Agility Champion, or MACH, title.  In this run I earned 9 points toward the 750 I need.  I’ll talk more about points later.  Now, let’s take a look:

My second run was in Standard Class Agility. Frankly, it was not so pretty.  I ran a big “off course” with several wrong jumps and missed my weave poles.  Nothing to brag about in this run, but Joe is to blame for the weave poles – I just did what he told me.  Take a look:

My third run was minutes later in FAST Class and it was a beautiful one.  I did a great send from fifteen feet away over the triple, through the tunnel and over the teeter.  Look at me go!  I qualified (no errors and a successful send) and took home a blue ribbon for first place.  Here I go:

The day ended with another practice run in the new AKC agility test event, Time to Beat.  Here it is:

Special thanks to our agility instructor, Anne Riba, for her encouragement and advice!

–Lancelot

Procurando algo realmente interessante para ler e que fugisse da linha “Oriente Médio” que estava seguindo, um amigo sugeriu qualquer livro do Bernard Cornwell. Procurei na net e muitas pessoas falavam da trilogia Crônicas de Artur (The Warlord Chronicles). Decidi que começaria por O Rei do Inverno, o primeiro volume.

Lendo a sinopse oficial, achei curioso. O autor afirma que Artur nunca foi rei e que este livro conta a mais fiel história de Artur sem fantasias ou exageros míticos. Será que este tal de Bernard Cornwell era tudo isso mesmo? Suas obras eram excepcionais como todo mundo dizia? Comecei a ler.

O resultado é que a história é envolvente, apaixonante e dinâmica. Você realmente se sente na Bretanha do século V. Não é a mais fiel história de Artur, tem suas manobras criativas. Mas isso não é ruim, pois prende o leitor. Eu simplesmente não conseguia parar de ler.

Quem conta a história é o narrador Derfel, grande guerreiro e amigo de Artur. A própria história de Derfel já vale a obra, muito interessante. Derfel conta como a vida o levou de pupilo de Merlin a um dos melhores guerreiros do exército de Artur. E assim, apresenta Artur, Lancelot, Merlin como os vê, ou seja, como seres humanos.

Acho que esta é a característica que torna a obra fantástica. Os grandes heróis acertam, erram, apaixonam-se e em algumas passagens são inseguros e até egoístas. Dá pra imaginar o grande Artur colocando seu coração acima de todo um reino e levando-o à guerra? Ou um Lancelot covarde e mentiroso, que compra poetas e músicos para glorificar feitos que ele nunca houvera realizado? Realmente, no mínimo, interessante.

A minha única crítica à obra é a ausência de Merlin. Senti sua falta. As passagens com ele são muito distantes, porém, mesmo nestas escassas aparições, sua apresentação é surpreendente. É sábio, magnânimo e poderoso, mas também pode ser egoísta e arrogante. Genial! Enfim, uma narrativa fascinante que vale a pena. Leia um trechinho Aqui.

Day two of the Blitzen Agility Trial in McCook, IL was an early one.  After a lovely walk along the lake with a pretty sunrise we headed out at about 6:30 a.m.  At least there is no traffic at that hour.

Our first run was in Jumpers with Weaves.  I felt I was ready, but those daarn weave poles messed me up.  This foreshadowed a bad weave poles day.  The rest of my run was beautiful.  Take a look:

Our second run was in FAST Class.  In FAST my handler designs the course I am supposed to run.  I was very distracted from the start. After missing my weave pole entry at the beginning, I still felt I could design a better course than Joe and I tried to do so.  Unfortunately I am not as good a designer as I thought I was.  Next time I plan to pay attention to Joe’s plan.  Here is the FAST Class run:

Our third run was in Standard Class.  I was focused and ready.  At Joe’s signal I took off like a rocket into the tunnel. My pause table was perfect (all the practice paid off).  My dog walk and jumps were clean and fast, but those darn weave poles did me in again. Here is the run:

As a bonus, we got an additional run in a new event being tested by the AKC.  It is called, “Time to Beat” and formerly called, “Run and Done.”  I hope they keep looking for a new name.  Our bad weave pole day continued, but there is the run:

Now it is time to rest and get ready for day 3.

–Lancelot

Friday at McCook started off well with three great (but not great enough) agility runs.  Our first run was in Jumpers with Weaves.  Joe’s strategy was right on the money, but unfortunately his execution was off by about two feet.  I was required to enter the tunnel on the right side.  Joe did a nice front cross in an attempt  to block the tunnel left side, but he ended up showing me the perfect entrance to the left side, which I took without hesitation.  It’s too bad, because the rest of the run was beautiful.  Here is my Jumpers with Weaves run:

In our second run, agility Standard Class, the fault was mine.  There is only a second of lost focus between winning and not qualifying.  I spent that second looking at the bar setter sitting in the back right corner before sailing right past the entrance to the weave poles.  Again, except for one critical error, this, too, was a beautiful run.  Here is my second agility run:

The third agility run was in FAST Class.  In Excellent FAST Class you need to have your handler send you from a distance through a series of obstacles.  I followed Joe’s signal a bit too closely and did not make it.  Let’s take a look:

Thanks for reading.  Now it’s on to day two!

–Lancelot

By Borys Kit – HollywoodReporter.com

Warner Bros. and Bryan Singer are unsheathing “Excalibur,” redoing the 1981 John Boorman movie about King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable.

The project is still in the early stages, with Warners only tying up the remake rights, which it shares with Boorman. Singer’s involvement is still in the talking stage and Legendary Pictures may come aboard the project.

If deals are made, Singer would produce with Julie Yorn. Former Warner exec Polly Johnsen (formerly Cohen) would also produce.

Matt Reilly is overseeing for Warners while Erik Olsen, who instigated the project by contacting Boorman, shepherds for the Yorn company.

Alex Garcia, an executive at Legendary and Singer’s former partner at Bad Hat, was instrumental in bringing in Singer. If Legendary comes aboard, Garcia would oversee.

The 1981 movie starred Nigel Terry as Arthur and Cherie Lunghi as Guenevere and featured early performances from Liam Neeson, Patrick Stewart and Gabriel Byrne. The movie told the well-known myth, in a gritty and dramatic fashion, of the young man who draws the sword Excalibur from a stone, is mentored by Merlin, establishes Camelot, loses his wife, Guenevere, to his best friend, Lancelot, and engages in the quest for the Holy Grail.

Singer’s “Excalibur” will be a more epic and fantasy version compared with the more earthy Clive Owen-starring “King Arthur” movie released by Disney/Touchstone in 2004.

“Excalibur” is not Singer’s next movie. The candidate for that is shaping up to be “Jack the Giant Killer,” New Line’s action fantasy about a young farmer who leads a rescue mission to the kingdom of giants when a princess is kidnapped. No offer has been made, though Singer has taken meetings.

The director, repped by WME, is coming out of hibernation, and “Excalibur” joins Universal’s big-screen version of “Battlestar Galactica” as one of his projects in development.

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