Notre Musique; Jean-Luc Godard, 2004

"As our age has endless destructive force, it now needs a revolution of a comparable creative force that reinforces memory, clarifies dreams, and gives substance to images."

This film absolutely blew me away. When it comes to using film as an original and modern form of Art, rather than a method of entertainment, or a way of visually representing themes or forms of story telling that have already existed for hundreds of years within literature, I have yet to come across a more impressive piece of work.

But before getting into the film, I want to put out a disclaimer. I'm only a novice film buff, and if anyone were to spend time looking through my blog it'll be quite obvious that I'm still very much in the learning stage. Second, I am in no way up to par with my knowledge towards the political conditions of the Mid East, nor the history of the Serbian conflict, nor international literary figures. I bring these points up because I had been hesitant in watching Notre Musique due to what writings I have read about the work focusing upon these issues, and therefore assumed that a strong background on these subjects would be required for watching the film. Nothing could be further from the truth, and I am fairly confident that an over analysis of these topics within Notre Musique would only only run counter to what Godard was attempting to convey to his audience.

I have only watched the film once through, and I now am purposefully providing thoughts based upon that singular viewing as an effort to relay how the film can and, most importantly, should be witnessed at a very basic and simplistic level. From what I do know of Godard, this is very much aligned with his desire to create films that are an 'experience', as opposed to a subject separated from the viewer. Certainly overly analytical and fact-based thinking while watching the film could distract the viewer from the film's potential for this experience.

Now on with the film review:

Notre Musique is arranged to mirror the structure of Dante's Divine Comedy. The first portion, entitled 'Hell', consists of dramatic music played over war footage, both actual and that which has been created for movies. The rhythm and abundant variation of footage creates a visual symphony that entraps the viewer within its aesthetic fragmentation and capturing of real life horrors. The use of both the actual and the fictive, made to mirror historical events, leads the audience to begin to question how war and violence should be understood, how we should relate to the acts, and what our reactions to war and violence should involve.

The second part, Purgatory, is where I think most people get lost with the film and attempt to make it something that it is not. It involves a modern day, international literary conference in Sarajevo. Scenes begin with people in the middle of conversations that discuss the aftermath of the Serbian conflict, conditions within the mid East, and suggestiveness of a new form of violence facing the world, that being terrorism. Conversations then also involve thoughts on art, revolutions, libraries and cinema. And, of course, there is also the occasional American Indian appearing in the back ground, an image found in other Godard works.

The key to experiencing this portion of the film is to still view it with the same mind set as the first portion. These scenes and segments are meant to act as a visual collage of ideas and images. Many of the conversations are not meant to be fully understood, but to be viewed as concepts within our modern world, the scene itself then becoming an 'image'. My favorite cue Godard utilizes would be with two scenes at an airport where there is discussion towards the Mid East. On a sign or board the shot contains an inconspicuous glowing yellow-green question mark. Indeed! What are they talking about? While the viewer might have a general idea, there also exists the potential for an emotional reaction from watching a scene consisting of two people discussing the Mid East within an airport setting, for obvious reasons.

As indicated, this middle portion of the film contains just as many political scenes as it does scenes concerning art, poetics and cinema. This provides an indication of how an interpretation of the political and horrific can be made with the use of images and the creative process. The importance of this concept is set up towards the beginning of the section where there is a discussion as to what it means to relate to violence with the 'terrors' that can be inflicted upon people's attitudes and understandings. At its worst, this can lead to violence begetting more violence. A frightening (and historically true) concept, and one Godard hopes to battle against by replacing our relationship to violence with the creative process, the building blocks of which are found within the 'image' and art.

The final section, Paradise, is the shortest and most abstract. One of the few actual characters of the film finds herself in a separate world which contains natural beauty, wire fencing, some men with guns, and younger people dancing and playing along a shoreline. How she got there, I can't go into without giving away a 'spoiler', and due to Godard wanting the film to be experienced, I will not explain much further. However, I can say that this new land which the character finds herself within is still one of limitation, but she herself has been able to travel much further, to a better place because of her reliance upon creative knowledge.

If anyone has made it this far through the post, I am flattered because I'm afraid I'm not explaining the film very well. But honestly, verbal explanation is inherently limited because after all, this is an Art form and meant to be related to at an intuitive level, as opposed to a factual.

I will admit that there is another whole side to the film that provides an intellectual depth, with many concepts that could be explored and discussed, and meant to be done so at great lengths. And certainly a factual knowledge of some of the film's subjects, as well as Godard's film making process and theories, would add to this form of understanding. If you want an exellent outline of the intellectual depth to the film, just read this. But, the intent of my post is not to go into those areas of interpretation. Instead I have hoped to clarify how Godard had every intention to have his audience experience the film through the creative process, and in turn, to relate to its real life subject matter in the same method, which would occur if the film is in fact EXPERIENCED as opposed to merely understood.

While not intending to contradict myself, I would like to point out one piece of factual knowledge that most might not be aware of. One of the American Indians within the film is a woman, and while not 100% sure, my wife pointed out that she looks exactly like an Indian woman in a famous photograph of a November, 1972 protest which involved the occupation of the Bureau of Indian Affairs building in Washington, D.C., part of the American Indian Movement. Most of the other people are sitting down, but she is standing up with an American flag wrapped around herself. Despite 30 years of aging, the facial structure remains the same, which makes us believe that it is the same woman.

Saul and Patsy; Charles Baxter

Saul and Patsy has been my introduction to Charles Baxter, a writer who was mentioned to me about 6 or 7 years ago. At that time, I didn't quite have the experience to relate to his usual subject matter of middle class life, marriage and community but now I'm finding aging does have its benefits.

The first half of the novel introduces us to Jewish born Saul and his Anglo-Saxon wife, Patsy. Choosing to forgo the corporate lifestyles for which their childhood socialization and educations prepared them, Saul instead decides upon a profession where he can provide the world with some good and make a change, 'really make a difference', this being a teacher in South Eastern rural Michigan. At the beginning of the novel they are probably in their late 20's or early 30's, not yet with children, and enjoy an Eden like existence within the safety of their own home, where they can walk around naked freely and make a point of having sex in every available room. However, there's a much different world beyond their home, one that Saul looks out upon from the roof of their home with unease.

At about the same time Patsy becomes pregnant, Saul's existence attracts a stalker from his remedial writing class, a boy without known parents, being raised by a welfare aunt in a trailer home by the local factory, and void of any proper human socialization. I don't want to give away anything to those who might want to read the book, but lets just say that an analogy to Cain and Abel can probably be made towards the end of the first half.

In the second half of the novel, the focus turns away from the private world of Saul and Patsy to the outer world of the community in which their lives are connected. Saul and Patsy's ideals are challenged, family relations considered, racism confronted, and materialism and wealth seen through. The stalker boy is not used as an antagonist within the novel, but instead an embodiment of the fears and anxieties of both Saul and Patsy, and the community in which they live. If there is an antagonist, it would be the human need for groups and the scapegoat that's developed to both define and protect that group.

Within the novel, Baxter's characters have a melancholic appeal, but in contrast, the ideas woven into the story are angry and critical towards the social forces that affect their lives. The combination of the two provides a tempering effect. The sadness of the characters keeps criticism from overwhelming both the characters and the reader, but the revelations towards right and wrong, the considerations between what's of value and what's useless, provides a drive for the characters to pull themselves away from the potential slumps that surround their lives. Certainly something to keep in mind in my own life.

Paul Auster, Collected Poems

I have finally picked up a collection of Paul Auster's poems, all originally published prior to his fiction, works of which I have enjoyed for quite some time. This post is primarily focusing upon Auster's earliest writing, dating back to 1967 and titled "Notes from a Composition Book", and his final poetry publication, "White Spaces", published in 1979. I'm glad I finally worked through some of this material because the writings clearly demonstrate the themes upon which his fiction is based, those being the random and chance occurrences in life, the limitations of language, and the layers of story one's life develops and becomes immersed within.

The base topic Auster focuses upon within his poetry would be the use of language, often referring back to biblical mythology for analogy,

"The fall of man is not a question of sin, transgression, or moral turpitude. It is a question of language conquering experience: the fall of the world into the word, experience descending from the eye to the mouth. A distance of about three inches."

Prior to the spoken word experience is one of sight, or perception, only. Language, or our interpretation, is then relied upon for the understanding of our perceptions, for the organization of experience. But language is limited due to our perception being limited. The limitation stemming from the basic fact of our perceptions being in flux because of the world's constant motion, where "something happens, and from the moment it begins to happen, nothing can ever be the same again". This constant motion leads to the randomness of events that pervade life, a theme most attributed within Auster's fiction,

"And no matter how small, each and every possibility remains. Even a motion reduced to an apparent absence of motion. A motion, for example, as minimal as breathing itself, the motion the body makes when inhaling and exhaling air."

"...the need to remind myself at each moment, that things do not have to happen this way, that there is always another way, neither better nor worse, in which things might take shape."

"For this is a landscape of random impulse, of knowledge for its own sake- which is to say, a knowledge that exists, that comes into being beyond any possibility of putting it into words."

However, we are not content to live within the randomness of events. Instead there is the base desire of "the body's need to be taken beyond itself, even as it dwells in the sphere of its own motion", as well as our need to attempt to develop "a consistent sense of what is happening, even as it changes, moment by moment". Words then are relied upon. But with development of language existing in limitation, this in turns leads to isolation as we make our feeble attempt to describe the details of the moment with words that "lag behind what was happening". In our attempt to relate the moment, or to ascribe meaning, or to share and extend beyond ourselves, we simultaneously remove ourselves from the perceptual, fall from the eye to the mouth. As soon as we make an attempt at clarifying an event or moment with language, the moment has passed and only exists in memory. But still there is the need for self definition,

"I want to be present inside the space of this moment, of these moments, and to say something, even though it will be forgotten, that will form a part of the journey for the length of the time it endures."

Through reading Auster, we are reminded of the basic distinction between our perception and the need for meaning. There exists the perceptual, the phenomena of the world, ourselves existing equally within the constants of flux and motion, our sight which places our bodies at an equal plane with that which we perceive. Yet, once we begin to search for meaning and identity within the experience, there is then the removal of ourselves into self isolation. But through art, the experience of the perceptual prior to our fall can at least be remembered, if not regained,

"A few scrapes of paper. A last cigarette before turning in. The snow falling endlessly in the winter night. To remain in the realm of the naked eye, as happy as I am at this moment. And if this is too much to ask, then to be granted the memory of it, a way of returning to it in the darkness of the night that will surely engulf me again. Never to be anywhere but here. And the immense journey through space that continues. Everywhere, as if each place were here. And the snow falling endlessly in the winter night."

And we are also reminded of both the freedom and responsibility involved when choosing language to develop meaning within our lives. The perceptual has no meaning per se, it is an existence with a knowledge of its own, a self contained experience. The moment words are relied upon, there is only the imaginative act to rework and interpret the perceptual, a process of selectivity among the myriad possibilities that are available to us. Creation at that point is ours.