I have been getting lots of e-mails saying the Exile link was broken. It is now fixed.
If you do visit the site, the editors have told me that they appreciate your comments. So do not be shy and leave a comment under the 'Your views' section.
It is the publication of English-studying French students in Grenoble, France. Considering English is not their mother tongue, the magazine is of an extreamely good quality. The English is very good, the articles always interesting, and the magazine 'design' astonishing.
I invite you to check it out.
Also, should any of you out there contribute to interesting online magazines, please let me know and I'll do my best to get the word out!
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Postcard to the Homeland
«What goes by the name of love is banishment, with now and then a postcard from the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.»
Samuel Beckett, First Love.
When Beckett wrote Premier Amour in 1946 (later translated into English as First Love in 1972) ten years had already elapsed since he had left Ireland. In 1946, he decided to leave the English language and to go towards the «langue sans style» that is French. Beckett had already written in French before, but he had now had his «vision», he now knew that his art was to be one of impoverishment or «appauvrissement» ; hence the switch to French and it’s stylelessness. So in the year of 1946, Beckett had exiled himself from Ireland and his «borrowed» yet native English.
Love or what we call love is banishment. Banishment is love. Here the narrator seems to be saying that exile is a sort of love, a love kept alive by postcards received from the homeland. The narrator of First Love like those of the novellas 'The End' and 'The Expelled', has been thrown out, expelled, banished from home. He is living his first love whilst an exile. It is not surprising therefore that these two feelings, which are new to him, should become one, or at
the very least interchangeable. But maybe we are simplifying matters. Maybe what he means is that to love something is to be far from it, that love is only possible from a distance. And that the postcards from the homeland, or the loved one, are images sent by memory, an imagination of memory, to keep that love going. If we take banishment as meaning exile that is.
For banishment is not only a synonym of exile, it also means «being dismissed from one’s presence or mind.» Love in this case would be the state of no longer being oneself, of dismissing
oneself from one’s presence, from one’s mind. «One is no longer oneself, on such occasions…» This is what the narrator tells us a few lines before. The «occasion» in question is an erection, or the sign of passion, of irrational thought. Love then is banishment from rational thought, the homeland moments of rationality. But what if we pushed our interpretation a bit further (at the risk of going too far?) and considered the phallus as symbol of the pen, the erection as the act of writing? Then, one is no longer oneself when one writes, one dismisses oneself from one’s presence, into another, from one language to another. «Such is my considered opinion, this evening.» To consider an opinion is to be rational. After dismissing oneself from one’s presence through writing, there is the rationality of re-writing, of considering what has been written.
In one sentence, Beckett manages to sum up his feelings on his exile from Ireland, his exile from English, and his love of both. And maybe to love them both is only possible by banishing himself from them. So that the postcards from the homeland can keep arriving, now and then, and make him go on. So that he may continue writing postcards to the adestination that is the imaginary
homeland. In 1946 Beckett was only beginning to write his postcards in French, hence «What goes by the name of love is banishment, with now and then a postcard from the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.» Today, with all the postcards he has written, I believe it is safe to say that «What goes by the name of exile is love, with now and then a postcard sent to the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.»
Anton Derridovitch. from 'Exile', Issue 1, November 2004.
Samuel Beckett, First Love.
When Beckett wrote Premier Amour in 1946 (later translated into English as First Love in 1972) ten years had already elapsed since he had left Ireland. In 1946, he decided to leave the English language and to go towards the «langue sans style» that is French. Beckett had already written in French before, but he had now had his «vision», he now knew that his art was to be one of impoverishment or «appauvrissement» ; hence the switch to French and it’s stylelessness. So in the year of 1946, Beckett had exiled himself from Ireland and his «borrowed» yet native English.
Love or what we call love is banishment. Banishment is love. Here the narrator seems to be saying that exile is a sort of love, a love kept alive by postcards received from the homeland. The narrator of First Love like those of the novellas 'The End' and 'The Expelled', has been thrown out, expelled, banished from home. He is living his first love whilst an exile. It is not surprising therefore that these two feelings, which are new to him, should become one, or at
the very least interchangeable. But maybe we are simplifying matters. Maybe what he means is that to love something is to be far from it, that love is only possible from a distance. And that the postcards from the homeland, or the loved one, are images sent by memory, an imagination of memory, to keep that love going. If we take banishment as meaning exile that is.
For banishment is not only a synonym of exile, it also means «being dismissed from one’s presence or mind.» Love in this case would be the state of no longer being oneself, of dismissing
oneself from one’s presence, from one’s mind. «One is no longer oneself, on such occasions…» This is what the narrator tells us a few lines before. The «occasion» in question is an erection, or the sign of passion, of irrational thought. Love then is banishment from rational thought, the homeland moments of rationality. But what if we pushed our interpretation a bit further (at the risk of going too far?) and considered the phallus as symbol of the pen, the erection as the act of writing? Then, one is no longer oneself when one writes, one dismisses oneself from one’s presence, into another, from one language to another. «Such is my considered opinion, this evening.» To consider an opinion is to be rational. After dismissing oneself from one’s presence through writing, there is the rationality of re-writing, of considering what has been written.
In one sentence, Beckett manages to sum up his feelings on his exile from Ireland, his exile from English, and his love of both. And maybe to love them both is only possible by banishing himself from them. So that the postcards from the homeland can keep arriving, now and then, and make him go on. So that he may continue writing postcards to the adestination that is the imaginary
homeland. In 1946 Beckett was only beginning to write his postcards in French, hence «What goes by the name of love is banishment, with now and then a postcard from the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.» Today, with all the postcards he has written, I believe it is safe to say that «What goes by the name of exile is love, with now and then a postcard sent to the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.»
Anton Derridovitch. from 'Exile', Issue 1, November 2004.
Friday, April 14, 2006
À un ami
Ici, le printemps est arrivé, les choses se meuvent. Les branches ne sont plus nues, de petites tiges vertes les recouvrent désormais. Le ciel dégueule de grosses pluies sans fin. Le soleil se cache ; ses rares apparitions font voir les couleurs aubergine des huiles mélangées à l’eau des pavements gris. Les brins d’herbes se noient dans la boue.
Nous croyions à un matin de dimanche paisible, non à celui d’un lendemain de beuverie.
Nous croyions à un matin de dimanche paisible, non à celui d’un lendemain de beuverie.
J.M.Maulpoix's site has reopened.
J.M.Maulpoix has reopened his site. We thank him, whilst deploring the unfair judgment of this sorry affair.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Aidons Jean-Michel Maulpoix
If you wish to know the whole story before deciding to circulate this message, click on the Maulpoix link to the right. You will find all the facts. You can then make your own mind up.
2. Une lettre de Jean-Michel Maulpoix :
Chers amis,Je vous remercie de vos messages de soutien. Le mieux que l'on puisse faire est de donner quelque publicité à cet insensé verdict. Il faudrait que des écrivains, des libraires, des éditeurs, des animateurs de sites internet ou de blogs, et de simples lecteurs, protestent contre l'absence de discernement et de mesure de l'aveugle machine judiciaire qui met en cause la liberté d'expression qui nous est chère.Je vous transmets, à ce propos, le texte d'un communiqué rédigé par mes avocats. Si vous en avez la possibilité, aidez-moi à le répandre...Bien amicalement à vous,JM.Maulpoix
3. Communiqué des avocats de Jean-Michel Maulpoix :
L'écrivain Jean-Michel Maulpoix, également professeur à l'Université de Nanterre et Président de la Maison des écrivains, vient d'être condamné par la Cour d'appel de Montpellier à 5000 euros d'amende et de frais de justice pour avoir relayé sur son site web personnel un témoignage relatif à des violences policières. Par la même décision, la Cour relaxe le poète Brice Petit, auteur de ce récit largement diffusé sur internet.Il n'y a eu aucune instruction du dossier. Jean-Michel Maulpoix n'a jamais eu affaire à la justice. Il ne connaissait ni Brice Petit ni les personnes visées par ce texte. Personne ne lui a jamais demandé le retrait de ce texte de son site, ni de la quinzaine d'autres qui l'ont également publié sans être inquiétés. Il a seulement accompli un geste de solidarité citoyenne sur internet.Dans son texte Brice Petit reprochait aux agents de police de l'avoir brutalisé et mensongèrement accusé d'outrage. Il a été relaxé de l'accusation d'outrage par la même décision qui condamne Jean-Michel Maulpoix. Il a aussi été relaxé des poursuites engagées contre lui pour avoir affirmé que les policiers l'avaient brutalisé. C'est donc qu'il disait la vérité et c'est donc la vérité que le texte publié sur internet dénonçait.Mais Jean-Michel Maulpoix, simple internaute solidaire, a lui été condamné grâce aux règles procédurales de la diffamation qui lui interdisent de démontrer qu'il a dit la vérité et qu'il était de bonne foi. On lui a appliqué à la lettre une loi obsolète au bénéfice de policiers dont les mensonges et la brutalité ne sont pas démentis par la même décision de justiceExiste-t-il une liberté d'expression si elle ne protège pas une personne qui dit la vérité et est de bonne foi ?
2. Une lettre de Jean-Michel Maulpoix :
Chers amis,Je vous remercie de vos messages de soutien. Le mieux que l'on puisse faire est de donner quelque publicité à cet insensé verdict. Il faudrait que des écrivains, des libraires, des éditeurs, des animateurs de sites internet ou de blogs, et de simples lecteurs, protestent contre l'absence de discernement et de mesure de l'aveugle machine judiciaire qui met en cause la liberté d'expression qui nous est chère.Je vous transmets, à ce propos, le texte d'un communiqué rédigé par mes avocats. Si vous en avez la possibilité, aidez-moi à le répandre...Bien amicalement à vous,JM.Maulpoix
3. Communiqué des avocats de Jean-Michel Maulpoix :
L'écrivain Jean-Michel Maulpoix, également professeur à l'Université de Nanterre et Président de la Maison des écrivains, vient d'être condamné par la Cour d'appel de Montpellier à 5000 euros d'amende et de frais de justice pour avoir relayé sur son site web personnel un témoignage relatif à des violences policières. Par la même décision, la Cour relaxe le poète Brice Petit, auteur de ce récit largement diffusé sur internet.Il n'y a eu aucune instruction du dossier. Jean-Michel Maulpoix n'a jamais eu affaire à la justice. Il ne connaissait ni Brice Petit ni les personnes visées par ce texte. Personne ne lui a jamais demandé le retrait de ce texte de son site, ni de la quinzaine d'autres qui l'ont également publié sans être inquiétés. Il a seulement accompli un geste de solidarité citoyenne sur internet.Dans son texte Brice Petit reprochait aux agents de police de l'avoir brutalisé et mensongèrement accusé d'outrage. Il a été relaxé de l'accusation d'outrage par la même décision qui condamne Jean-Michel Maulpoix. Il a aussi été relaxé des poursuites engagées contre lui pour avoir affirmé que les policiers l'avaient brutalisé. C'est donc qu'il disait la vérité et c'est donc la vérité que le texte publié sur internet dénonçait.Mais Jean-Michel Maulpoix, simple internaute solidaire, a lui été condamné grâce aux règles procédurales de la diffamation qui lui interdisent de démontrer qu'il a dit la vérité et qu'il était de bonne foi. On lui a appliqué à la lettre une loi obsolète au bénéfice de policiers dont les mensonges et la brutalité ne sont pas démentis par la même décision de justiceExiste-t-il une liberté d'expression si elle ne protège pas une personne qui dit la vérité et est de bonne foi ?
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Possibility of Being
'fiction et poésie visent l’être, non plus sous la modalité de l’être-donné, mais sous la modalité du pouvoir-être.'
Paul Ricoeur, Du Texte à l’action.
Paul Ricoeur, Du Texte à l’action.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Wordsworthian blank verse
In terms of stress, almost everything is medium to light. The verse is quiet in sound. While it moves, it seems scarcely to be moving. It is like the picture of a cloud in motion rather than that cloud above us in the sky. One is driven in describing this, as so often in poetry, in terms not so much of stress as of voice. It is a quiet voice, the quietest of all voices.
Philip Hobsbaum.
Philip Hobsbaum.
Love
What goes by the name of love is banishment, with now and then a postcard from the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.
Samuel Beckett. First Love and Other Novellas. London:Penguin, 2000.
Samuel Beckett. First Love and Other Novellas. London:Penguin, 2000.
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