Sunday, October 25, 2015
Another new aspect to my lessons is using a pick. My new teacher pretty much assumed from the start that this is how we would work, so I've gone along. I like strumming with my fingers, but the pick creates a much louder, stronger sound and I can do a lot more with it rhythmically. With this focus on rhythm and using a pick, we've worked through the rhythm guitar patterns on a bunch of songs: "Southern Cross" by Crosby Stills & Nash, "Let It Be" by the Beatles, and "Vienna" by Billy Joel. In most cases I quickly get to a place where I can play the rhythm part, and he can solo over it. I like playing rhythm; you just start to ride a wave within the song and that feels sweet! I've also begun learning some songs on my own: old country standard "Silver Threads & Golden Needles" and k.d. lang's "Constant Craving".
Latest push is barre chords. I'd been faking them so far (e.g., playing F by using finger one on only the two highest strings and such), but it's pretty clear to me that if I really want to play some of the more interesting songs out there that I have to learn how to do barre chords. "Vienna" has several, and I'm trying to force myself to play F and other chords like it as barres. It's difficult and doesn't come naturally to me at all. So sometimes I end up just changing chords over and over between regular and barre chords. The more I do it, the better I should get at it.
I've also performed some of my songs for my voice teacher, accompanying myself on guitar. My self-accompaniment is pretty poor but it serves its purpose. Singing in correct style and in front of someone is reshaping how I sing my songs. With several, I've stopped practicing them altogether so I can focus on a few songs, improve my melody lines and polish my technique.
Sometimes I have to pinch myself. Deep down, I fully expected to take a few months of voice lessons and learn once again that I simply lack vocal talent and cannot be made to improve. To finally be on my way to singing, something I have dreamed about all my life is an incredible feeling.
It's never over until it's over.
Saturday, October 24, 2015
|The Battle of Sedan|
In a brief span of time - and without hitting us over the head - Zola illustrates for the reader the incompetence of the French army's leadership. This incompetence ends in a series of truly humiliating defeats for the French, in which thousands of soldiers are massacred. As the plot takes us through the inevitable disaster, Zola does an amazing job painting the horrors of the battlefield, prison camps, and an insurrection in Paris which leads to the city being set on fire. In the midst of these historic events, Zola creates a touching friendship between his two main characters: Jean and the somewhat aristocratic Maurice. Initially at odds, the relationship between them slowly develops until they are like brothers. They bring humanity to this historical novel and render the tragedy much more affecting as a result, as Zola weaves his plot and historical elements together brilliantly. He creates a panorama of characters, including the Emperor himself, that allows us to be in the middle of the action at all times. The Debacle is a powerful novel about the folly of war.
At the same time, The Debacle works brilliantly as a product of Zola's Naturalistic school of writing. On the one hand, it is yet another portal back into time allowing us to view an aspect of Second Empire France in tremendous detail: the military and war. The Debacle also figuratively and very literally closes the curtain on Second Empire France, as the French defeat cascades into a sort of anarchist civil war within the confines of Paris. While the section between the end of the war and the beginning of the insurrection of the Communards is way too heavy on exposition and starved of plot details, the novel does return to full power for the burning of Paris. Part of the reason this part of the novel is so impactful is that - throughout his Cycle - Zola has made us so well acquainted with the Second Empire Paris of which he pens the destruction.
I remember watching an featurette about the making of Brian De Palma's movie Carrie. In it, De Palma (or someone talking about his direction of the movie, I can't remember which), discusses the power of the prom scene. The person speaking pointed out that De Palma starts the prom scene with a long pan showing us the entire gym and all the characters in it, the stage, the rock band, the decorations...everything. The comment was - and I'm paraphrasing - that the scene worked so well because De Palma spent that pan (and in truth the entirely of the movie leading up to that moment) displaying the world he was about to destroy. By making us aware of the people and the setting, it was much more dramatic when Carrie unleashes her rage.
Zola uses the burning of Paris to once more extol his theme about the need for destruction to occur in order for new life or growth to take place. The only odd thing about Zola's treatment of this theme in The Debacle is that he positions the peasant Jean as the sort of honest stock that can be trusted to rebuild France from the ruins. This sentiment is a little hard to swallow after Zola spent 500+ pages depicting peasants as depraved, grasping bottom feeders in The Earth.
Along this theme - and as I hinted in my entry about The Earth - I noticed that Jean is one of the few Rougon-Macquart family members to be a principle character in two novels. After thinking about the structure of the entire Cycle, this fact led me to some interesting analysis because while Nana Coupeau and Claude Lantier have notable roles in books beyond the on in which they 'star' (L'Assommoir and The Belly of Paris, respectively), there are actually only three characters who are truly the focus of more than one novel. Interestingly, these three characters each come from one of the three families in the Cycle. Jean Macquart (The Earth, The Debacle) is from the lower class Macquart family, Octave Mouret (Pot-Bouille, The Ladies' Paradise) is from the middle class Mouret family, and Aristide Saccard (The Kill, Money) is a member of the wealthy/privileged Rougon family. What these three characters have in common and what their two novel vehicles share is very interesting.
Aristide, Octave, and Jean are each introduced in novels that present them within a panorama of characters used to dissect their class. In The Kill, Aristide takes a backseat to his second wife Renee amid the decadence and out of control acquisitiveness of the upper class who graft and spend their way through millions. Octave is introduced in Pot-Bouille among a vast cast of characters representing the hypocritical and social climbing middle class. In The Earth, Jean is presented as part of the peasant class, who are replete with animalistic vice and depravity. All three of these Rougon-Macquart characters are assertive and lack the laziness, inertia, or mental instabilities that undermine most other members of the family.
Jean's story is a bit more sympathetically presented in that he is never really part of the morass of slime Zola paints in The Earth. He comes off as a decent, hard-working man who leaves the farming community partially out of disgust. In The Debacle, this steadfastness serves him well as he survives the events of the war. Unlike the other two characters, Jean does not create the predatory or destructive forces the unfold around him. This makes sense given his low social position; he simply doesn't have the power, money, or influence to wield such force. Instead, after everything collapses, Zola presents him and his honesty and diligence as part of the growth and progress that will come after destruction has burned away corruption.
I have to believe this two-novel device was intentional, as it is far too structurally sound to have occurred by chance. These sorts of pan-Cycle analyses - of which I've laid out several examples in my posts about the Cycle - are one of the reasons Zola's magnum opus is so impressive as a work of literary genius. The Cycle is not just a set of twenty loosely connected novels; they form a whole of which different parts resonate with others and hold together to create a structure that has emergent qualities in theme and social commentary that are not as powerfully or comprehensively spoken to within a single novel. The point of Zola's Cycle, therefore, is in the cross-referencing of characters, classes, heredity, and social institutions in understanding human society as a whole.
Zola would suggest we should not only expect such upheaval, but that we should not shed too many tears over the lives trampled as human society evolves and pushes for progress. It's not at all an idealistic or compassionate way to view human beings, but then Zola wasn't much interested in ideals. He preferred reality, uncompromised by sentiment.