George Herbert, PRAYER

Prayer

Prayer, the Church’s banquet, Angels’ age,
God’s breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet, sounding heaven and earth;
Engine against the Almighty, sinner’s tower,
Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six-days’ world transposing in an hour,
A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;

Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
Exalted manna, gladness of the best,
Heaven in ordinary, man well drest,
The milky way, the bird of Paradise,
Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul’s blood,
The land of spices; something understood.

George Herbert 1593-1633


Herbert died when he was forty, filled with faith for a future life. As I write, my own daughter is dying at the age of fifty and I am filled with grief.

Herbert’s faith is always a source of inspiration, but I find myself unable to pray with his kind of faith.

People have placed prayers for Sharon in Jerusalem’s Wailing Wall several times over the years, and prayers have been said in synagogues and churches for her as well as in homes and fields.

As a child I prayed, too, and I know that Sharon prays regularly, but in the face of her disease prayer seems inadequate. As an adult, I rarely prayed, but today I will say a prayer and pray for her peace and say a prayer in admiration of her grace as she faces death.

I will say a prayer now while she holds onto life and wishes all around her well. She is in the company of devoted friends, students, and family, and if George Herbert was right and there is an after-life she will be with them again.

Mary Cassatt, In the Loge

One of Mary Cassatt’s most famous paintings, In the Loge, 1880, a portrait of a woman at the opera, is also one of her most complex and interesting. She seems to anticipate the literature of the gaze as developed by Jacques Lacan, Michel Foucault, and others. Feminists have seen clear patterns of power expressed in the gaze, especially when men gaze at women who may be sexual objects. When we look at the painting we are ourselves gazing at a woman who is wholly unaware of us–yet the painting itself presents her to us in a way that belies what we actually see. Of course, we are meant to gaze at this woman, but Cassatt has dressed her completely in black. And she has dressed her completely from top to toe so that we see more an emblem of a woman than a woman for whom we may have some desire. Does Cassatt somehow give us a sense of power in relation to this woman?

Then, the woman is engaged in gazing at a distant figure. We can safely assume she is gazing at another person, but a woman or a man? What clues might help us know? One might have assumed that she was gazing at another woman to compare fashions, but given her own scant interest in fashion, is that really likely? Is it possible she is looking at another woman with a sense of desire? Or is it more likely she is looking at a man with a sense of desire? We see a man, rendered very small, with his opera glasses gazing at the woman herself. What is his motive in studying her so closely? His rakish posture implies a sexual interest. We have here an example of triangulation of desire a la Rene Girard and Eve Sedgwick, and we are involved.

All of this may be very innocent, just Cassatt’s comment on the opera as a social experience rather than as a dramatic musical experience. The lighting in the painting suggests that the opera has not yet started, and the angle of the woman’s opera glasses suggest she is, like the man, studying a member of the audience. But the point of the painting seems to be that there is as much drama in the audience as on stage. Cassatt gives us a range of possibilities in terms of the relationship of figures in the painting to one another as well as our own relationship to all the figures in the painting. The power of the gaze is expressed everywhere in the painting, and Cassatt certainly understands that the act of viewing–whether of a painting or living beings–gives the viewer power over what is seen, if only temporarily and if only partially.

One obvious benefit from our gazing at this painting is our own pleasure. Color, form, the expression of figures in the composition–all these conduce to a pleasurable experience. Such pleasure may be a form of power as a natural consequence of a careful aesthetic engagement.

EUGENE ATGET'S PROSTITUTE

Atget was famous for photographing Paris early in the morning. In some senses one can say he photographed the emptiness of Paris because there are rarely any people in front of his lens. He sold many of his photographs of scenes and places, so it was advantageous to keep the vision clear of obstructions. Whether he was photographing storefronts filled with mannequins or women’s underware, or photographing the streets leading to the Pantheon, he usually kept the scene empty.

The fact is that he had to be rediscovered in mid century by Beatrice Abbott because the casual viewer thought of the work as typical of the photographers that sold tourist photos to wanderers beginning in the 1840s. Their work was bland, clear, and ordinarily a simple record of a piece of architecture or a park. Because their work was quick and cheaply printed it was rarely a deeply saturated image, nor was there any effort to make the image more intense by burning and dodging. But Atget had a sense of drama that eluded the common photographers. He found even the most empty spaces of Paris filled with anticipation and uncertainty.

But the photograph above is unique for its inclusion of a person, a Parisian prostitute who seems to be very patient with Atget, whose tripod and large camera stood before her waiting for the right moment. He may have simply removed the lens cap for an instant, or he may have had a shutter release–which seems likely–and the bored woman before his eyes and his lens expresses nothing other than tolerance. She could hardly imagine that the world would later see her here and contemplate both her uneasy and patient expression and wonder just what might have been going through her mind.

The image itself is stark and impressive. Its date is uncertain, but early in the 1920s, after the first World War, when French society experienced a total upheaval, as Proust reports in his subtle analysis of the Faubourg St. Germain. This image is far removed from the upper class, and the crudeness of the surroundings, old cobblestones and shabby stone walls and cheap shutters all tell us a great deal about the lower depths. Yet the centrality of the figure, the simplicity of the pose and the snapshot-like quality of the photograph almost implies an artistic innocence on the part of Atget. However, the image reveals anything but innocence, especially when one considers the angularity of the leg with its shiny boot dug in, ready for a sudden move. The image has almost no middle tones. It is dominated by deep blacks, stark whites.

At a recent meeting with writers, editors, and agents, we heard a story of a fellow whose novel had just been taken by a major press. He was elated and could hardly wait to tell us the good news. But then one of the agents began pouring cold water on the proposition by explaining how much of his advance would have to be spent on promotion and how little the PR department of his publisher could actually do on his behalf.

In other words, promoting the book was up to the author. One thing he could do is make the rounds of bookstores at his own expense and pray that for whatever reason he might have an audience and some of them might buy the book. The last author I spoke to about this gave a reading to 22 people and 4 bought the book. That’s a very good ratio, and the truth is that the profit on his books did not pay for his gas to get to the book store.

Advances these days are not given out like bonuses. They are expected to stoke the fires of a professional PR person and a vigorous campaign to get the book noticed. How that happens is different for every author and we know how hard it is to stand out in a crowd that is also peopled by celebrities and scoundrels, who manage to hog the headlines.

Harper Collins is said to be experimenting with a line of books that have no advance. For some writers that represents opportunity because whatever happens these days the job of helping the book get some sales is on the shoulders of the writers no matter who publishes the book.

The advantage, for fiction writers, of Harper Collins’s deal over self-publishing is clear. Harper Collins has distributors that put the book in bookstores; having the Harper Collins imprint would make it easier for an author to publicize the book and get some local press coverage; and finally, having someone else design and print the book without involving the author’s expense makes life a little easier for the author. But in the final analysis no matter how one publishes, the author must do the work of getting the book noticed and reviewed.

Can Quality Writing Prevail in Publishing Today?

The New York Times’s Timothy Egan complained that Samuel J. Wurtzelbacher, known as "Joe the Plumber" in the current election campaign, has come out with a book. He also mentioned that Sarah Palin may command as much as seven million dollars for a book under her name, although it is clear from her general communiques to the public that she is a hopelessly inadequate writer. However, that never stopped celebrities from "penning" tell-alls.

Egan's complaint is based on some simple painful facts. There are many fine novelists who cannot get agents or publishers, just as there are fine poets and memoirists who have no hope of finding space on bookstore shelves. So many good writers will never command an audience on the scale of fabricated books of the kind Egan condemns that it makes us realize that self-publishing is not just for vanity seekers.

Quality comes in many forms, and right now it is very hard for good writers, writers of literary quality, to place a book with a publisher unless there is some previous media blitz or unless there is some powerful person who can promote the book with a powerful editor. Even some very fine novelists whose early books showed great promise tell me that there is no market for their current work. No commercial press will touch them because the early books did not sell well enough for them to take the risk. Of course one reason they cannot take the risk is that the publishers have lavished advances on non-book books. The result is that writers of quality prose will not have the chance to develop their talent in the open marketplace.

Maybe it has never been much different, but today with fewer "big" publishers and with many editors and support people losing jobs in publishing, things certainly feel different.

The end result is that the idea of founding a publishing house whose mission is to bring out good books that don’t fit the commercial mold seems more and more appealing. Hammonasset House Books is an artists’ cooperative dedicated to publishing a few good books. For people who like good books.

Good Books for People Who Like Good Books

The Basilisk Solution

One of Hammonasset House’s new books, a celestial thriller called The Basilisk Solution, combines suspense, comedy and satire in a hilarious fantasy.

In Heaven, souls create virtual domains to suit their heart’s desire, and share Paradise with mafiosi, religious zealots, literary characters, pagan gods, and monsters.

They also face the threat of Satan unseating God and ruling Heaven. The Midwest Book Review calls it "A satirical romp through the afterlife. . . .wittily composed and highly recommended to community library fantasy collections and to those who love the genre."

William J. Kelly was an English professor at UCONN, Groton, and editor of Mystic Aquarium’s natural history magazine. His nature writings and humorous pieces appeared in national and international periodicals. $15.95 ISBN 978-0-9801894-7-6

As described in the Ingram Catalog:

Astral travel to the afterlife by two retired cops begins a tale that is both a ciffhanger and comic opera. After a lackluster career as a detective, Benny Spielmacher disappears during an impulsive astral journey to Heaven in search of inspiration for a musical version of Paradise Lost. His former partner, Roscoe Duffy, risks the deadly perils of Chaos to find him, and the two soon find themselves in a life-and-death struggle to defeat a colossal conspiracy that threatens God Himself. To complicate matters, Roscoe falls in love with the late Rose Trautman and must figure out how to conduct an affair with a dead woman. In this witty romp through Heaven and Hell, the damned get limited air conditioning, a college education, and virtual sex. Those in heaven create virtual domains to suit their heart’s desire, and share Paradise with mafia dons, crackpots, villains, literary characters, and pagan gods and their monsters. The Basilisk Solution serves up mystery, mayhem and belly laughs as once-mediocre gumshoes finally become the heroes they always wanted to be.

The reviews on Amazon are enthusiastic for this wonderful comic novel. Order it at:
http://www.amazon.com/Basilisk-Solution-William-J-Kelly/dp/0980189470/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1226683393&sr=8-1

Hammonasset House Books

Lee A. Jacobus, William J. Kelly, and Norman Weissman, all distinguished as educators, writers, editors, and filmmakers, began Hammonasset House Books as a cooperative artists' press to publish our books and keep them in print.

We write short fiction, novels, memoirs, and poetry. In later posts, I will include some sample work in addition to discussing the ins and outs of establishing a publishing house.

Later posts will also include a description of each of our current books and how to obtain them. All our first four books are softcover and are priced at $15.95. All may be ordered through your bookstore or ordered directly from Amazon.com or B&N.com, or any other online bookseller.

Volcanic Jesus: Hawaiian Tales is a collection of short stories that both Hawaiians and world wide visitors will treasure. It offers a vision of the Hawaii that most people might not notice, a Hawaii that is rich in spiritual significance and lush with touches of paradise.

These stories are set on Maui, Oahu, Kauai, and the Big Island, Hawaii. They tell the tales of natives, haole, and tourists alike.

A Rochester reviewer said, "Clear, clean writing reminiscent of Hemingway's best. A must read for those who admire short stories with bite and sensitivity."

ISBN 978-0-9801894-4-5
http://www.amazon.com/Volcanic-Jesus-Lee-Jacobus/dp/0980189446/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1209416017&sr=8-1

This book is close to my heart. I started it on my first visit to Hawaii when I saw a woman with a black eye. Her story became the first in the collection, "Pi'ilani, the Girl with the Heavenly Eyes."

Subsequent visits brought me in contact with marvelous people whose stories I knew I needed to tell. I used a technique that Nadine Gordimer describes as "inhabiting the character" while I wrote.

Other stories started from such germs--to quote Henry James. For instance, Keezu Breen, the bell hop in "Why Not Live in the Hokole" came to me when I was staying in Maui and saw a young man in a native costume running around lighting the tiki lanterns in preparation for an evening party.

"A View of the Water" came to me when I reflected one day in one of the new hotels in Kaui on the fate of the people whose homes were sacrificed for the sake of commercial progress. Camille and Lawrence Tanaka were those people, and their fate was a mixed blessing.

The title story derived from my walk along the slopes of Kilauea on the Big Island and up to Volcano Inn where I saw the steaming caldera and smelled the sulphurous residue. That was an experience I shall never forget because it awakened in me images from the first book of John Milton's Paradise Lost when he described Satan in Hell.

Volcanic Jesus is not, however, a hellish story.

A Writers' Cooperative

In a recent writers conference in New Canaan, CT, people talked about ways to get published in the twenty-first century.

After listening to some really bright and creative people talk about how they got their books accepted by mainstream publishers, and after hearing an agent who does not want any new clients explain what agents do, I was very glad that I belong to a cooperative artists' press.

We created Hammonasset House Books early in 2008 after a couple of years of talk and research. Our books are literary and personal, but not really commercial in the sense that the people in the writers conference revealed. We write literature, fiction and memoirs, but not self-help books, not young adult, not really any of the niches that seem to be in demand at the present.

When a member of the audience at this conference mentioned that his book had been taken by a major press, the agent described some of his potential journey. His book would be promoted for a month, then it would be on its own. The publisher will probably demand that he invest his advance in a book publicist and advertising. The real job of promotion, in other words, is on the author's shoulders. In six months his book will be old news.

Well, Hammonasset House can keep promoting our books on the web and through email and snailmail for as long as we wish. We are the PR people and the creative people, and we don't abandon our books. And most important, our books never go out of print.

Right now, this option represents an opportunity. Not only are our books out there and in people's hands, but they are being read and we control all the phases of production and pricing.

To me, this sounded like the best way to get published in the twenty-first century.