Skip to main content


I love his writing. I always have. I found the writing before I knew anything about the strange, tortured man and I'm glad, because the writing has become subsumed to the image. The writing is exquisite and never cliched and full of all the pain that is living. Poor, lonely, needy Tru.

The movie is good, Hoffman's performance is breathtaking. I understand--I don't necessarily forgive--when he sells out the killers, sells out himself, would sell out his best friend to get that laugh at a party, to make life ironic and light when he knew that it wasn't. Grabbing that moment of adulation in a crowd rather than anything lasting--tomorrow may never come, after all. And you know he knows it's a lie too. He sold out Perry Smith, and yes, Perry was a dangerous and disturbed man who had murdered a family almost because they were there, but Truman played him to get that story, and lied and played with another human being's feelings and life to write the book. And what a book. A book he could never live up to again. What does it mean to write "non-fiction?" Is that even possible? Is it possible to do it and still have it be a good read? I didn't expect James Frey's book to be the truth--I was amazed that people thought it would be. What we remember is never the truth because we could never look at ourselves the way we really are--we cannot see how good or beautiful we are and we cannot see out bad and ugly we are. Memory fictionalizes everything around us--and a good story has to tighten it more, tighter narrative, stronger through line. The bit by bit, the unconnected, unflattering, uninteresting is tossed. But what about when it's not your life?

Wanted to link to this article that I found at A's blog "Mirror Up to Life," and this seems a good place for it.

It's about the play "Frozen" and what happens when truth is "accidentally" made fiction. It's about plagiarism too and how ideas distill down in our heads.

Also want to take a moment to plug "Mirror Up to Life." My friend A writes it. A is my friend and A is married to A who is my friend. When I first started this blog I thought I would refer to all my friends as B like Andy Warhol in "From A to B and Back Again," but then I started to use initials so they could find themselves if they were looking and realized I have an awful lot of friends whose name begins with A and several whose names begin with B. Strange...
Anyway, A's blog is on theater and it poses some very well thought out moral dilemmas for our modern age, specifically in theater, but stretching to the world, which is good because I think of A (shall we say A-masc.) as a very moral person, and someone I try to emulate when in moral dilemmas.


Popular posts from this blog

Adapting a book--The Prestige

I was completely blown away by the movie of The Prestige, and I thought then about reading the novel, but it seemed too soon. So I carried the author's name around with me for over a year (Christopher Priest) and then, finally remembered to buy it through an odd sequence of events. We watched The Painted Veil based on the novel by Maugham starring Edward Norton, and while I decided I didn't want to read The Painted Veil because of it's differences from the film (which was more romantic and tragic) it reminded me that I had wanted to read Fight Club (the movie version of which starred Edward Norton) and that reminded me that I had wanted to read The Prestige (which did not star Edward Norton, but was up against The Illusionist which did). it's all Edward Norton's fault.

The Prestige is a very good novel, and yet, the movie differs from it considerably. And I am still trying to figure out what exactly that means. The central premise is the same, AND HER…

The end of Cloud Atlas

Feel I must write this--promised it to myself, can I finish before midnight (when I said I would go to bed at 11)?

Where was I?

Oh, yes, section 5, where it gets interesting--because it's the future, at least 25 years, hopefully more. I say hopefully, because I don't want to be living in this future. The section is called "An Orison of Sonmi-451." An Orison (I had to look it up, proving I don't remember my Shakespeare) is a prayer, but in this future world where language has taken as many turns as in Orwell's 1984, it is more a confession or final statement. Sonmi-451 is a clone (as the name might suggest). The section is not entirely original. It owes much to Brave New World and Phillip K. Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (made into the film Bladerunner). I find it interesting that 40 or so years ago--when Dick wrote his book he believed that future slaves would be Androids, replicants. Now we are much more likely to presume they will be clones,…

Driving in Boston

Inching along in a log jam of traffic yesterday on the Mass Pike I watched an Audi a few cars in front of me weave in and out of traffic determined to find the lane that was "moving" and yet for the whole half an hour that we sat there he ended up still only a few cars ahead of me. Sure there were times his lane pulled ahead, but then mine would catch up and he would switch back. The only thing he accomplished was to make the line that much slower. There was a great article that a friend sent me years ago on the physics of traffic and it has been determined that weaving in and out of tight traffic will really gain you nothing and in fact cause the very blockages that you believe you are defying. (Sidenote--an unfortunately side effect of so much of interest on the internet is that it is impossible to store all of the articles that interest you over the years in the vague belief that you will someday want to reference them to others) The article also pointed out that if all d…