Ferlinghetti:
He is the grand-dad of the Beatniks. Not only is he a fantastic poet, but, he is also the defender of the Howl in court, the publisher of many (heck, all) notable beat poets as well as scores of other writers, curator of City Lights bookstore. He is also the penman behind my favorite collection of poetry.
"A Coney Island of the Mind...expresses the way I felt about these poems when I wrote them - as they were, taken together, a kind of Coney Island of the Mind, a kind of circus of the soul."
What a gorgeous way to describe a collection of poetry!
"The scene shows fewer tumbrils but more maimed citizens in painted cars and they have strange license plates and engines that devour America," reads "I." I believe it is important to see Ferlinghetti's ideological vision of America and the beatniks "devouring" it; after all, he is responsible in part for publicizing these works.
He, in a completely genuine way, markets and distributes the beat movement without exploiting it, which is remarkable and worthy of examination. He's also a great poet.
The Soundtrack:
Bebop in Pastel-Bud Powell: is a real, full band jazz tune. Bumping with rhythm while not letting individual tracks lose their identities, each member of the ensemble band gets to explore and improvise. A jazz typical.
Oop Bop Sh'bam-Dizzy Gillespie: does a fantastic job putting down some improvisational jazz, while incorporating the poetic usage of words to create sound in a scat-ish fashion, this track really explores the space of sound and image.
Bird of Paradise-Charlie Parker: is a little more subdued that Dizzy, mimicking the sounds of a bird perhaps, using his jazz and soft spoken beat to melt the saxophone or trumpet. I can picture beat poets tapping their feet.
Body and Soul-Coleman Hawkins: has a quiet, soft piano intro. It is met with jazzy rhythm, imitating the seduction two bodies play when coming together. This is a sexy tune, not unlike the visual imagery of beat prose or poetics, full of bodies crashing into bodies.
Better Get It in Yo' Soul-Charles Mingus: is supposed to be an improvisational master, Mingus indeed does such. Filling the musical space with loud, untamed blasts of trumpet and brass, this track is an essential counterpart to the spontaneous prose that the Beats write.
Bird Calls-Mingus: Mingus again, now he is just showing off.
The readings on the soundtrack are very poignant, especially Kerouac's improv on the Steve Allen Show; his lectures also clear up murky space in the murky definition of the Beat Generation.
But I propose: couldn't it have been something less pinned down? Something they made up as they went?
And the future?
We will continue to look at the beats. And never fully understand.
No comments:
Post a Comment