Wednesday, May 16, 2012

More anachronisms

A few months ago I wrote about the trope often appearing in Patricia Highsmith's work -- that of characters following developments in their cases (be they cases of murder, assault, or disappearance) in the daily newspaper. Last night I went to the film noir festival at the Roxie Theater in San Francisco and saw two obscure films which had another kind of mid-20th century narrative trope which has largely disappeared: the insurance investigator.

In both films -- Highway 13, which is about sabotage at a trucking firm, and The Devil's Henchman, which is about thefts of cargo from ships -- the protagonist was not a policeman or a private detective but a secret agent for an insurance company.

This trope reminded me of something I'd read about "Death of a Salesman" -- that the whole reality of life insurance was new to middle class people in the 1930s and 1940s, and that the concept, and the unintended consequences that can result when the death of one person can result in a windfall for another, had to be explained to people. And then when the play was presented to audiences in China for the first time, in 1983, the whole concept had to be explained anew for audiences to understand the plot.

Nowadays you don't see many plots hinging on insurance fraud, and I wonder why. Have the insurance companies simply gotten too good at detecting it? Is it easier these days to scam Medicare, for example?

Monday, May 07, 2012

Things I had to look up: poetaster

Poetaster: an inferior poet:

Turner gives us an informative sketch for a bildungsromanabout how (Henry) Miller re-made himself as a writer, transforming himself from poetaster to master brute.

-- from a review by Todd Gitlin on tnr.com
of Renegade: Henry Miller and the Making of 'Tropic of Cancer,' by Frederick Turner

Bolaño canonized, if he wasn't already

(A) small thing ... happened somewhere between the uncorrected proof and the finished hardback (of Roberto Bolaño's final collection The Secret of Evil) that arrived at my door the other day: "FICTION," on the book's jacket, now reads "LITERATURE."

From an essay, "Bolañ'o's Last, Great Secret," by R. B. Moreno
published today on The Millions

I have been compiling reviews essay and news stories about the work of novelist Roberto Bolaño, of whom friends know I am a fan. The file is over 100 pages long and contains over 30 pieces, and I eagerly added this essay.

If not for the fact that all the articles are copyrighted -- and quite rightly so -- I would love to publish the collection as a free ebook, but I'm not sure it would be worth the inevitable hassle. But I'd be glad to send it to anyone interested in the author.

Saturday, May 05, 2012

Things I read today

They arranged to meet at a restaurant near the station. ... he looked at the signed photos of soccer players on the walls. The place had been leased a couple of years ago by a forward on the national team, who'd then gone overseas as coach of one of the unofficial American teams; now that that league had broken up, he'd disappeared over there.

--Peter Handke, The Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick,
tr. Ralph Mannheim. In the Avon paperback "Three by Peter Handke," 1977.

There's a whole unwritten novel in the story of that anonymous footballer.