Tag Archives: Literature

WTF?! THIS EXACT MOMENT 105 YEARS AGO . . . APRIL 14, 1912

 

The R.M.S. Titanic hits an iceberg and the 20th Century will never be the same.

 

Imagine how different 1997 would have been without this megalith of a movie hitting the screens?We might not even have the same Kate or Leo we have today?! Winter of 1997/98 wouldn’t have been consumed by 12 theatre viewings of “TITANIC”!!!

We shudder to think . . .

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On a serious note; I’m not sure what it is about this majestic ship that has always captured my imagination. I’m guessing its a mixture of the Edwardian elegance, decadence, and grandeur of the ship – the microcosm of society contained within it – and the hubris of the upper echelon whose powers control the world to this day, and the tragedy that ensued as a result.

There are many many many fascinating details regarding this ship, but perhaps the most stimulating aspect of the Titanic’s untimely fate is that it was predicted 14 years earlier by a pulp novella entitled The Wreck of the Titan: Or, Futility which I was lucky to read before the film had even been in production.

Talk about psychic premonitions; author Morgan Robertson (also the self proclaimed inventor of the periscope) chillingly predicts much of the Titanic’s destiny with his fictional telling of an enormous “unsinkable” triple screw British luxury ocean liner named the S.S. TITAN  which meets its untimely demise on a cold April night in the North Atlantic after it hits an iceberg losing almost everyone on board due to a lack of lifeboats.

{click here to read the rundown of similarities between the TITANIC and TITAN}

CRAZY, RIGHT?! This is 14 years before the infamous disaster! Designs for Titanic‘s sister ship didn’t even go into production until 1908. How was it that Morgan Robertson could right a tale so shockingly similar to the Titanic’s actual events. Was he psychic? Was it planned?

TIME TRAVEL???

The whole thing is absolutely incredible, and definitely worth looking more into.

+ DESTINY DAZES +

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Life sure is strange, sometimes.

Lest we forget.

{theEye}

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E.O.F. SNAPSHOT OF THE DAY {DECEMBER 5, 2016}

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+TWO KINGS+

+ “You can never be overdressed or overeducated.” +

-Oscar Wilde

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 ++++“I do maintain that if your hair is wrong, your entire life is wrong.” ++++

-Morrissey

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+++ Wise words from wise men. +++

Stay STYLE {WISE}

Sincerely,

{theEye}

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Destroy, Annihilate, Burn! Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451” Unlocked . . .

Farenheit 451 book burning vintage cover

“Fahrenheit 451” is a classic of contemporary American literature, and is one of the most widely read and popular novels of all time.

Written by the late great Ray Bradbury (author of some of favourite reads including “Something Wicked This Way Comes” and “The Halloween Tree”), this story warns of a society where original thought and ideas are deemed dangerous, reading obsolete, and knowledge is kept under wraps.

Farenheit 451 - Truffaut Film- Vintage

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Julie Christie in the 1966 film directed by Francois Truffaut

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Farenehit 451 Vintage Film Poster - Julie Christie

It is a nightmare of a world brilliant captured by Bradbury’s precise prose. If you haven’t had a chance to read it, no shame (although we do recommend it), but do make a point to check out this cool breakdown of the book and its themes provided by Academic Earth, who provide some great insight into the film’s plot and themes.

Created by AcademicEarth.org

And make sure to check out our other articles (nearly 1,000)  to inspire the imagination, and massage your intellect; after all, we don’t want Bradbury’s vision to become real life.

We’re well on our way , so KEEP READING!

Farenheit 451 - Truffaut Film

Until next time,

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E.OF. Snapshot of the Day {June 20, 2013}

Eye of Faith Vintage- June 20 - Ride on into Eternity, Brothers

+Ride On Into Eternity, Brothers. Sail Us To The Horizon.+

I might never come back . . . 

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“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

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Until next time,

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{theEye}
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Don Draper Goes Medieval! Is Mad Men Don Draper’s “Inferno”?

Man Men - season 6 episoe 1 - don draper reading dantes inferno on the beach

Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost. . .

Those were the first words we hear Don Draper speak in the season 6 premier of AMC’s hit show, “Mad Men” which aired last night. Dante Alighieri’s legendary Medieval poem is not one’s expected choice to be reading on the beaches of Mauii, but for Don Draper it seems to have opened many questions of himself.

You could even point out that throughout the series, Don has endured through many of the nine circles of sin described in Dante’s “Inferno” (such as gluttony, lust, and sin), so to capture the man of perceived strength and self confidence bring alongside with him a poem about the author’s personal midlife crisis really speaks volumes. Don, however, doesn’t speak for another 10 minutes into the episode.

Dante Alighieri’s “Inferno” is a piece of Dante’s collection of poems known as “The Divine Comedy“. Written between 1308 and his death in 1321, the work is still seen as a pinnacle in literacy for mankind, and is still read today by students and scholars around the world. Split into three parts: Inferno, Purgatoria, and Paradiso; the story tells of the author’s descent into hell before ascending to paradise.

And as Don puts it, “Heaven is a little morbid. How do you get to heaven? Something terrible has to happen”.

As Dante had Virgil at his side, Don has Sterling; and like Dante’s muse Beatrice, Don seems to have found a new muse in his latest mistress who leant him the copy for his vacation. It’s strange life he is living, but luckily he notes he must stop “doing this”, before he never figures it out.

Dantes Purification on the Deserted Shore of Pergatory- The Divine COmedy - Dantes Inferno - Master of the Dominican Effigies (1325 - 1355) - AGO Revealing the Renaissance

We got a chance to see one of first illustrated copies of Dante Alighieri’s “The Divine Comedy” at the Art Gallery of Ontario’s Revealing the Early Renaissance: Secrets and Stories in Florentine Art, by The Master of the Dominican Effigies between 1325 and 1355. Today, it still one of the most important works written.

A season back, or so, Don criticized Universities as a “Medieval” system, in an almost dismissive way, so its interesting to see him now delving into the pinnacle of Medieval philosophy. I guess it’s always good to stay well-rounded. And 800 year old wisdom, is just as good as any.

One of the most famous publications of “The Divine Comedy” featured engravings by French artist Gustave Doré, offering fantastical and surreal visuals to compliment Dante’s classic words. We thought them a wonderful showcase to accompany Don Draper and his voyage of self-discovery, and maybe provide a little insight and intrigue into the world of Dante Alighieri.

Maybe we will go on one too. Anyone want to join us?

Everyone’s got a little figuring out to do.

Why not get lost a little on the way.

Until next time,

{theEye}

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E.O.F. {Anti} Style Idol: Jack Kerouac [Jack is Back!]

“Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.”

-Jack Kerouac

Every time style blogs or fashion mags bring up Jack Kerouac, they can’t seem to go past exploring his style choices with completely superficial mindsets. What would Jack Kerouac wear today? Where would he shop? Here’s where, and how?! Ta DA! NOTHING. OUTFIT.

“I went one afternoon to the church of my childhood and had a vision of what I must have really meant with “Beat”… the vision of the word Beat as being to mean beatific… People began to call themselves beatniks, beats, jazzniks, bopniks, bugniks and finally I was called the “avatar” of all this.”

“The Origins of the Beat Generation” in Playboy (June 1959)

For example, Esquire Magazine thinks Jack Kerouac would go for a Junya Watanabe coat with Louis Vuiton shoes to hang out with Allen Ginsberg. They also feature him in J.Crew, and for rolling down Beaker Street the shirt and bag combo by Loden Dager is hilarious. As noted in almost every comment, Jack Kerouac would likely never ever be caught wearing thousand dollar jackets, or Patrick Evrell anything, let along so many pairs of Louis Vuitton shoes. Who is Jack Kerouac supposed to be?

Granted, Kerouac can be seen in the simple, utilitarian, work wear looks they attempt to recreate. The only thing is, Kerouac wasn’t going for a certain kind of anything. He just was. That’s kind of the first rule about him.

Completing his draft of On the Road in April 1951 on a single 36 metre (120-foot) role of paper, this autobiographical tale of Kerouac’s journeys across America with his friends is considered the defining work of the ‘Beat Generation‘, and includes hundreds of references to the stories of his adventures on the road.

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“John Clellon Holmes … and I were sitting around trying to think up the meaning of the Lost Generation and the subsequent Existentialism and I said, ‘You know, this is really a beat generation’ and he lept up and said ‘That’s it, that’s right!'”

“The Origins of the Beat Generation” in Playboy (June 1959)

The book wasn’t published until September 5, 1957 but would quickly garner cult status , with it’s wide array of colorful characters, as well as it’s wonderfully liberated prose inspired by the jazz, drug, and poetry that would define the Beat movement.

It was a movement towards freedom, however, it wouldn’t be easily received by the mainstream critics who’s conservatism would lead them to question Kerouac’s anti-establishment philosophies and writing style. In an era of conformity, stuck in the politics of McCarthyism in America, Kerouac would keep doing it his way all the way to the end.

“If critics say your work stinks it’s because they want it to stink and they can make it stink by scaring you into conformity with their comfortable little standards. Standards so low that they can no longer be considered “dangerous” but set in place in their compartmental understandings.”

-Jack Kerouac

Is it all just a great strange dream? Jack Kerouac thought so. He also believed in the meditating powers of Buddha, not to mention having encountered God himself at his first Sacrament of Confession in 1928. He was told he he would suffer in life great pain and horrors but experience salvation in the end of it all.

Little talked about fact: Kerouac first began writing On the Road in Quebec French!

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[Kerouac’s parents were of French-Canadian descent, making Jack an honorary Canadian!]

Funny enough, Kerouac wasn’t exactly the artsy intellectual type in high school, that you might imagine. No doubt he was deep but Kerouac found his tall brooding frame and superior athletic skills leading him to running back for the high school football team, and eventually a scholarship to Columbia University. Who says jocks don’t write poetry?!

Just as his football career began soaring, Kerouac dropped out from school, and continued life in New York City with his girlfriend, Edie Parker. It was there on the Upper East Side he would meet such influential figures as Allen Ginsberg, Neal Casaday, William S. Burroughs who would turn up in many of Kerouac’s works.

Together, this group of misfits, along with others who shared similar views on life contrary to the devastating conservatism of America would band together to foster a movement towards artistic and sexual liberation; freedom free from censorship. Kerouac knew his greatest power would ultimately be his honesty, integrity, and commitment to the truth of the world.

The truth, you ask? It’s the same truth we all are looking for today. The meaning of life, and the truths of existence. Driving the highway searching for the faces of God. In fact, Jack insists:

” ‘On the Road’ was really a story about two Catholic buddies roaming the country in search of God. And we found him. I found him in the sky, in Market Street San Francisco (those 2 visions), and Dean (Neal) had God sweating out of his forehead all the way. THERE IS NO OTHER WAY OUT FOR THE HOLY MAN: HE MUST SWEAT FOR GOD. And once he has found Him, the Godhood of God is forever Established and really must not be spoken about.”

Though, Kerouac would most likely protest the fancy and folly of the fashion industry of 2012, there is definitely a regard to the poet and free-thinker for his laid-back and casual sensibilities. It’s easy to see the appeal – Kerouac is a very charismatic and handsome guy. Not only that, he always seems to have something on the mind- a sense of mystery.

And while polo shirts, trousers, and denim button-ups are easy to find, Kerouac’s one-of-a-kind rebel attitude and poetic insight make for most of Kerouac’s {anti}-style style. This is where style goes far beyond the clothes on one’s back, and reaches deep into the darkest depths of one’s very soul .

It’s the nonchalance and passion for life that exude from all things Kerouac, so it only makes sense that Kerouac’s day-to-day dress would reflect that in its unbuttoned simplicity.  We are talking about the guy who wrote a draft on one 120 foot long piece of paper, save the time of flipping through page after page.

“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”

-Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums

There aren’t too many public figures like Jack Kerouac these days, sadly. He died relatively young. On October 20, 1969 Kerouac experienced a violent attack on his body. While sitting in his living room, drinking whiskey and malt liquor, scribbling on a notepad, the writer felt sick, and began throwing up large amounts of blood (“Stella, I’m bleeding!”).

On October 21, 1969 after never regaining consciousness after surgery for an internal hemorrhage due to his lifetime of drinking and drug use, the legend passed at 5:15 AM. Great pains and horrors, indeed. His last appearance on television would be on the William Buckley’s show in 1968 where he rambled about society in what was obviously a little bit of drunken tom foolery on the writer’s account.

“Ah, life is a gate, a way, a path to Paradise anyway, why not live for fun and joy and love or some sort of girl by a fireside, why not go to your desire and LAUGH…”

-Jack Kerouac

Jack Kerouac was raw and untamed, but this we could not fault him for. Like a pilgrim searching for deliverance from evil, Kerouac wandered the land. He kept his eyes open wide, and with his account, a brilliant and timeless perspective of life as an outsider continues to inspire us to this day.

What works most about Jack Kerouac’s style sense is that every man feels they could dress like that. It is not an intimidating look, but really falls on comfort and confidence. There is a mix of his athletic roots, kind-of-academic, and streetwise to boot. Having the latter two is of the dire essence.

“the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”

Jack Kerouac “On the Road”

Sam Riley as “Sal Paradise” in ‘On the Road’ (2012)

 

Walter Salles’ long awaited screen adaptation of the Kerouac classic premiered on May 23 at the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. Sam Riley stars as Kerouac’s alter-ego, Sam Paradise, in the film. Click here to visit the film’s website.

And the legend blazes on . . .

{ANTI} STYLE IDOL: JACK KEROUAC

[March 12, 1922 – October 21, 1969]

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Here’s some stuff we found to {GET THE LOOK}

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Until next time,

{theEye}

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“The Old Man on the Corner” by Waldo Tomosky

Waldo Tomosky is one of our regular visitors here at The Eye of Faith, and wished to share this short story with us, citing it as both unique and divine – two very important words we hold close to us here at The Eye.

We couldn’t agree more, and decided we’d share it with you all here at The Eye of Faith.

This story entitled “The Old Man on the Corner” plays off Waldo’s own memory as a boy living in a small town, and how the simplest things in the world can come to be the most profound in the end….

+ THE OLD MAN ON THE CORNER +

by Waldo Tomosky

There is a state that is not what it used to be. There is a village within that state that falls into the same category. Families have an obligation to prepare the next generation for a better life. Political regions apparently do not have that same obligation.

The village has a city name; Johnson City. From the period of my first memories of village life, until the time when I entered the army, I always remember one specific street corner.

At one time a large store was located there. If my memory serves me correctly it was a hardware store. I do clearly remember, I am sure, that to enter the store you had to climb three massive concrete stairs that wrapped around the entire front.

The store no longer exists, due to a fire. A silvery aluminum diner was finally placed on the site. It has always been called the “Red Robin Diner.” But this story is not about inanimate objects; it is about people, or, more succinctly, it is about one man. This man was one of several that were, and are, always located on that corner. Their faces change and their manner changes but they are the same men.

They are retirees, older men living off a pension, a government dole, or off their savings. When I was young they sat on an old wooden bench that was painted red. It probably belonged to the village. The men smoked, and talked about something that I was never privileged to hear. They also had a bottle of something or other that was wrapped in a brown paper sack. In between cigarettes, or cigars, they would pass the sack around and each man had a swig of whatever was hidden in it.

They were nice friendly men. There were no loud voices or harsh words. They simply enjoyed each others company and nodded “hello” to the folks that passed them by. A nice toothy (or toothless) grin usually accompanied the “hello.”

I previously stated that the story is about one man. Possibly my memory has played some tricks on me over the years and this one man is a composite of all the old men that have located themselves on that corner. It makes no difference. This singular or composite soul was friendly, cheerful, unshaven, had a hole in his pants, and his shoes (that were once meant for work) were never polished. Yes; that is a good analogy. His shoes were like he was, unpolished but substantial, faithful, ready to serve.

This man smoked a pipe (in between nips). It was not a beautiful meerschaum pipe. It appeared to be made of briarwood and had a plain shape. He lit his pipe with what us youngsters called “farmer matches.” They were not your modern safety matches. They were more functional for a pipe smoker. The matches were singular (not in a pack) and had a hefty piece of wood (not the cheap paper stick that we now use). The heads had a section to burn and a section to strike. The striking portion was on the end and was typically white in color. Once struck, the burning section would be ignited which in turn would set the hefty wooden stick aflame.

Once again we are not here to compare the old with the new but rather to set into motion the details about this old man and his wooden matches. Keep in mind the attributes of this old man. He was wise, somewhat the worse for wear (as we all would be if we had completed the tasks that he had), a little unkempt, but most importantly he loved the people around him. In fact he loved them almost as much as he loved lighting his pipe. I really believe he enjoyed lighting those farmer matches. He was constantly at it.

The match would appear from nowhere. He would be inspecting it before the casual observer even knew he had one in his hand. The old man would test the wooden section for sturdiness. Then he would spin it between his fingers and inspect the white striking end. This would be followed by an inspection of the secondary lighting section (which was usually red but sometimes blue). Once he was satisfied, the match would be struck against some hard surface. The striking end would burst open into a star like pattern with other minor star patterns being created from the original one; then additional star patterns were created from the secondary ones. You could never tell how many star patterns were created due to the fact that it happened so fast. Yet, you knew that several patterns existed before they died out. At that same moment the secondary fire (blue or red; it makes no difference) would occur. This would create yet another burst of energy that exceeded what was necessary to light the pipe. The old man would keep the creation at a safe distance until the wooden section was on fire. Only at that time would he light his pipe.

I must repeat that he appeared to enjoy lighting the matches as much as smoking the pipe. I say this because he would always use about five matches for every pipe-full of tobacco. Additionally, his eyes would gleam with joy whenever he lit a match. It was not the gleam of a pyromaniac but rather the gleam of someone who created something. He appeared proud like a new father, or, had that “ah-ha!” moment of someone who had a new insight. It was something that I never understood but always was amazed at observing. How could an old man on a corner get such satisfaction out of lighting his pipe?

It was only when I had my own “ah-ha!” moment (years later) that I understood the old man on the corner. The ceremony of the pipe was his creation yet every time he accomplished that act he knew exactly what would occur. Oh, I don’t mean that he knew how many star patterns there would be, and he sure didn’t know what was located on those minute cinders that resulted from the burnt out star patterns. He only knew that he could create them and that the results would take care of themselves. It was only natural that there would be star-cinders, flame energy and gases, and finally the wooden stick that would serve as the means to the end.

Therefore I believe that somewhere beyond all the galaxies, their stars, the gases, the unbridled energy, the cinder-like asteroids, the unknown black holes, there is an old man standing on a corner lighting his pipe. There is, most likely, a hole in his pants. There may be some friends that he shares nectar with; although I can not quite picture it being hidden in a brown paper sack. He is friendly and benevolent but does not care to guide our every move. He simply likes to create a stir with his farmer matches. He loves the explosive star patterns, likes to watch the flames and gasses that are created by the red and blue sections, and is somewhat disappointed when the wooden section finally burns out.

He knows that he will need to re-light his pipe in a few minutes and also knows that the residue of the last match will have to take care of itself. He doesn’t know that we are riding on one of the smallest cinders and that we treat the last burning ember of the striking ember as the center of our system. Time to him is irrelevant. Time to us is in light-years.

We have made such a big thing out of someone lighting a pipe. It is really very simple. We do not know (and will never know) where the beginning and end is. It is not really our beginning or our end; they are His matches and His pipe. So therefore the creative act of lighting farmer matches goes on. The center of the sphere of sparks is everywhere yet nowhere. The length of time for a match to exhaust itself is both future and past (of which neither really exist). Yet we continue to attempt to identify the past through something we call history and the future through something we call science.

It is just an old man lighting his pipe.

© Copyright – Waldo Tomosky

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Waldo has a lot more where the came from over at his blog, so please check it out!

Sincerely,

{theEye}

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{Photoblast} Holy Fashion -Our Holy Grail.

We’ll say a lil’ prayer for you during this Photoblast.  Some symbolism you may recognize, some sights should be new! We’re feeling nostalgic for holier times… Although we’re certain we’d be burned as a Witch!

Thank our goodness, we are alive today to bring you some inspiration to say a little prayer for us! Let us be saved from this unholy hell, and bless’d our soul for whose past we grieve, but who’s future is shining and bright!

We’re sure the pearly gates are more beautiful in Death than any sights on this land, but we’d be lying if we acted as if we didn’t adore seeing Faith in Fashion and splendor in this land.

Sometimes controversially cliche, we don’t get too bored when it comes talk of God and Jesus Christ. We’ll turn our cheek and listen to the street and love what fashion houses are turning out.  We do love throwing on a wide brimmed black hat, Rosary and grabbing a Crucifix for a danced filled night out!

Thankfully we know what’s good fun, and what will get us into trouble.  We may have a Dark Side, but for heaven’s sake, we’re not Demonic! We trust our Angels to guide us along in every bold decision and choice.  And you can trust in The Eye of Faith to Graciously Guide you through the coming days.

Together we shall roam, we shall reach deliverance! Where would we be if it weren’t for our terrific readers? Follow the Eye, and no angel or demon would deny you of being a true divinity.

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“The men and women in these mug shots are nobody special, but they saw things that none of us will ever see. They were all arrested in New Castle, a small town in western Pennsylvania, right over by the Ohio border. It was once one of the most industrially productive cities in America, but all that’s gone now.”

{Diarmid Mogg, SMALL TOWN NOIR}

As good as any Noir Thriller you might find in the movies. In fact, the stories told in “Small Town Noir” could definitely make one helluva TV series – so many stories to dive over, so take a look. William Brest is just one of many from the town of New Castle that got the opportunity to stare into the lens of that mighty police camera…

So check it out, why don’t ya?!

Small Town Noir

A seventy-seven-year-old widow named Alice Johnson opened her door to William Brest, whom she mistook for a neighbor’s son. She let him in, leaving him alone in her living room for a minute. He took her wallet and left. After he removed the $16 that it contained, he threw it into the weed patch behind the United Presbyterian church on Countyline street, where it was recovered by police once William had been arrested and signed a confession. William returned the money, including the $2 that he had already spent, and Mrs Johnson withdrew the charges against him.

William had just turned eighteen. Within three years, he was married with two sons. He found a job at Rockwell’s auto and truck spring plant on Furnace street and got a place on its bowling team, which met with reasonable success in the town’s industrial league. In 1977, William was treated for smoke…

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{Style Wise} – Feathered Frenzy: Where Were You “Last Year at Marienbad” ?

Fresh off our post featuring an interview with Colleen Atwood and her immaculate creations for the new film “Snow White and the Huntsman“, {the Eye} began thinking of Charlize Theron’s haunting black raven feather “Transforming Cape” and how much it reminded me of Delphine Seyrig’s amazing feathered dress from the ambiguous and elusive 1961 French art house classic, “Last Year At Marienbad“.

Print This Out and Frame It!

Since it’s release in 1961, the film has captivated it’s viewers with it’s sleek black and white photography, decadent Hotel backdrop (Marienbad), and it’s mysterious plot, which involves a Man named “X” and a woman named “A” who may or may not have met the last year a Marienbad. It’s a wild ride through flashbacks, memories, dreams, faded thoughts, and blurred desires that remains the pinnacle of the New Novel movement.

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Empty salons. Corridors. Salons. Doors. Doors. Salons. Empty chairs, deep armchairs, thick carpets. Heavy hangings. Stairs, steps. Steps, one after the other. Glass objects, objects still intact, empty glasses. A glass that falls, three, two, one, zero. Glass partition, letters.

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Written by the renowned French author Alain Robbe-Grillet, and directed by Alain Resnais, the film hoped to break the bounds of narrative and conventional film style all together, and in exchange offer us, the audience, the chance to shape our own perception of the story being unfolded before us.

We may never get an answer from Resnais or Robbe-Grillet on what the film truly is or isn’t about, but it truly is a remarkable and powerful thing to have complete control over our own perception – don’t you think?

From a style perspective, it only takes one look at Delphine Seyrig‘s iconic black feathered cape to understand its staying power in our style consciousness.  Chic and elegant, it would take some serious rock ‘n’ roll attitude to pull this kind of look off today. This didn’t stop Karl Lagerfeld from using the film as the jump point for his collection last Spring/Summer 2011 for Chanel.

While the collection captured some of the signatures of Bernard Evein‘s enigmatic costume designs – feathers, sequins, sheer, black – there’s something masterful in the simplicity and cleanliness of the film’s sumptuous designs.

Here at {the Eye}, we’re going to sit back and let this mystery of a film continue to confuse and delight, as the demons of fashion plant the seeds of inspiration from sea to sea. What Resnais and Robbe-Grillet attempted was to reject accepted notions of time in telling a story- they step forward, backward, under, and sideways creating a timeless lingering legacy.

Inspiration is a strange thing going on and on, snowballing on through time non-stop. Between Charlize, Delphine, and Chanel it might be safe to say, if you’re feeling a little frenzied by feathers – you may just be on the right track!

We love a good mystery, and know you do too, so check out “Last Year At Marienbad” at Criterion today!

++UPDATE++ “Last Year at Marienabd” is part of the TIFF Cinematheque Summer in France programme at the TIFF Lightbox. So if you are in Toronto, and want to enjoy this grand mystery on the big screen, get your ticket today. We will see you there.

Sincerely,

{the Eye}

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