Wednesday, April 01, 2020

Film Socialisme

The Goldbergs


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IV. Correspondences - The Flowers of Evil
[IV. Correspondances] [Les fleurs du mal]
by Charles Baudelaire - my translation
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Nature is a temple where living pillars
At times allow confused words to emerge;
Man crosses them through forests of symbols
Observing him with familiar looks.

Like prolonged echoes mingling from afar
Within a tenebrous and profound unity,
Vast as night and clarity,
Perfumes, colors, and sounds give response.

There are perfumes fresh as children's fleshes,
Gentle as oboes, green as prairies,
— And others, corrupted, rich, and triumphant,

Having the expansion of limitless things,
Like amber, musk, bezoin, and incense
Singing the transports of the mind and the senses.

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The other correspondences were not only bereft of the here and now, but also of “limitless things.” The last slice of mastery before the Cold War began in true, an unedited truth beyond all remnants true or untrue. It was the last thing to come.

Behold: this tale of granddaughters and grandfathers aboard the ship the Costa Concordia, which would later — sink. These sirens perhaps did not hijack, but certainly served to set the ship upon its course. “The last beautiful free souls on this planet,” as has been said. “La muse malade,” in the words of Baudelaire. — “My poor muse, alas! what have you then this morning? Your hollow eyes are populated by nocturnal visions. And turn by turn I see reflected upon your complexion the folly and horror, cold and taciturn. // The greenish succubus and the pink elf, have they poured forth fear and love from their urns towards you? / The nightmare, of a despotic and mutinous grip, has it drowned you at the base of a fabled Minturnae?” I would like that exhaling the odor of the saint, in your presence.

Since at least Détective [1985], Godard has trafficked in conspiracy and invisible backstory, or that which requires unearthing and which does not exist onscreen except in fleeting suggestions or images. Pieces of gold, here; a watch. I think in Film Socialisme [2010] and Adieu au langage [Goodbye to Language, 2014] in fact he comes closest to Rivette, who once spoke of Pialat "inventing" Sandrine Bonnaire "in the archaeological sense."

Then can you imagine x + 3 = 1? Can Saint Mary imagine 1 + 1 = 3? When we travel south, latitudes become negative, so we have to travel north instead... If you make fun of Balzac I'll kill you. If the sun attacks me, I'll attack the sun too.


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