Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Interns required

I find myself in need of some measure of menial academic assistance. 2, possibly 3 positions as interns should do it. Candidates should be educated to postgraduate (though not necessarily doctoral) level in a civilised discipline, be meticulously polite and deferential, and possess whatever organizational or research skills I deem fit. I would expect a minimum fluency in at least 3 major European languages (certainly not the lesser 'dialects') and certificates of hygiene and health from bespoke medical personnel.

Applicants from good family should send me their full curriculum vitae preceded by a 50 character synopsis to allow me to decide whether or not to endure the lengthy version. Photographs are required, as I am not by temperament inclined to share my 'space' with the aesthetically challenged. References from substantive academics (3) are required.

Extreme flexibility is essential, so that successful candidates may be able to rapidly respond to my whims at any time of the day or night. Candidates should be under no illusion that their thoughts and opinions are required - they are not. Total unquestioning compliance is essential.

It seems unnecessary to point out entering my service should in itself provide sufficient reward those candidates deemed successful and, as such, no pecuniary emoluments shall be involved.

Friday, February 18, 2011

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

I am distressed, though not overly surprised, to learn that a compatriot has entered the distasteful 'blockbusters' market. I refer, of course, to one Stieg Larsson and his 'Girl with the Dragon Tattoo' trilogy.

Not only have these oeuvres acquired bestseller status at those hideous 'airport stores' but they have also been rendered into frightful movies of the most appalling character. Not even this is enough to plumb the depths of the infernal pits; apparently the movies are too Swedish and must be remade in Hollywood for a broader and far more stupid audience. With American actors, no less.

The plots, such as they are, center upon a deeply dysfunctional woman who nonetheless has formidable computing skills. Of course she has. Add a dash of pioneering 'journalists' with unnecessary sexual predilections, a sinister and shadowy State conspiracy, and diverse sundry lowlives and there you have a recipe for offensive calamity. Sprinkle with gratuitous violence and bake in a tin dish for far too long. The editors (if any) should be dispensed with forthwith and cast into outer darkness.

There are, of course, those desperate and doubtlessly well-paid reviewers who insist that Larsson brings Swedish literature in toto to a wider audience. This is disingenuous drivel. There are none of the commendably ponderous leitmotifs associated with such Art, nor any of the stupendously pedantic if not densesly rewarding detail for the robust reader with stamina. Instead these 'novels' burn in fits and starts, with lengthy spells of tedium interrupted only with inexplicable bursts of 'action'. Neither fish nor fowl, we plough through wastelands of torrid scenery with no edification whatsoever.

You may rest assured that I shall be throwing the full weight of my prestigious postion behind the backlash against these dreadful 'books'. I fully intend to make urgent complaint to my fellows in the Swedish Academy of Literature and file a motion condemning such trivial lightweight nonsense. Nothing less, I fear, will suffice.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Smorgasbord

Practice patience, O little ones. I remain beset if not fraught with undue complexity.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Gormenghast revisited

Most curious. I find myself compelled to reread Mervyn Peake's Gormenghast "trilogy". I remain quite unshakeable in my view that the third lamentable book should never have been written, it is a mere excrescence on an otherwise worthy if pedestrian oeuvre. So I once mused. And yet, and yet...

In revisiting these texts last essayed in my impetuous teenage years, (when I even led myself to be impressed by Herman Hesse, alas) I find an unexpectedly rich textuality and philologic counterpoint that quite enthralls me. It is not just the juxtaposition of the gothic with the bureaucratic, more a grand meta-narrative of primogeniture and its discontents that quite unnerves me. It is fraught, simply fraught with significance and duality at its most raw. The Romanic names, the hierarchic certainties, the downright ignition and combustion of ritual; it leaves me gasping for air.

Eaten by owls indeed; the lunatic Count stands as a moral signpost for semiotic individualism. It is not, of course, Athena herself as symbolised by the owl that devours him as his library burns. It may in fact be the earlier avatar of Kali herself, replete in Indo-European syntax. While Steerpike climbs the chasm of doubt and ambition, mutilated yet certain in his proto-Germanic gutturalism. Ah me, the implications.

I shall withdraw and reread, lest rash exegesis blossom untoward. An evening should suffice.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Eden regained

I have now established my Chair in an altogether more salubrious location than that nest of vipers from which I am now departed. Believe me, I shall publish the full depths of their depravity in due course. Oh yes.

They attempted to hold some ceremonial benediction to mark my departure; of it I had nought. Red faces all round from the hypocritical assassins and fawning hierophants. 'Tis all they deserve.

My support staff have worked tirelessly to restore my office and papers, and my new apartment is more than sufficient. I am now in a condition of robust preparedness to launch into a new phase of path-breaking exegesis and analysis. I may drop a few tantalising crumbs here first so by all means study these 'pages' with due diligence.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Transience; tempora placet

I find myself 'in transit', and unable to respond to serious queries that require me to bend my mind upon a singular object that may repay attention, however weighty. You must understand this. I am simply unable to reply to conference calls etc - no matter how worthy and how much I may raise the prestige of such gatherings - until such a time as I find myself 'resettled'. This is my consuming distraction and, as such, I shall be off-limits (as they say) until such a time as to notify you otherwise. Exercise patience.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Tribulation ceases; Justice prevails

Of course it was simply a matter of time. I knew that once I 'put the word around' to the effect that I may be tempted by pastures new that the offers would come in full flood. And so it has proved, and I am now extricated from that pit of barbarism into which I had descended.

Of course it would be most unbecoming for me to trumpet the name of my 'savior', but suffice it to say that it is an ancient and mighty seat of learning that fully appreciates the value of traditional heavyweight scholarship. I must add that they were in no small way attracted to the lengthy list of upcoming publications accruing from my sabbatical on such critical issues as tonalism in factionalised archaeo-Thai and Khao/Kao fetishism in the upper Mekong basin. These shall now bear the name of my new position and post, to the savage loss of that heathen horde that failed to recognise high-level academic excellence.

Perhaps I may be permitted to 'crow' a little by revealing a tantalising glimpse in that I shall in effect be returning to my beloved Sweden. That provides enough clues to the learned in deductive reasoning.

Needless to say the fawning hierophants and toadies at my current (and soon to be ex-) appointment have learned of my imminent exit and adopt gruesome postures of feigned regret at my liberation. Of this I shall have naught, naught. Let them gnash and cringe while covertly jostling and manoeuvring to move into my 'niche'. I bequeath them it all, in full knowledge that it will turn to dust in their indolent and grimy hands. As Goethe put it, "and so the untermensch did leap and wither, clasping with clawed hands at that which was there not, yet falling finally back with woe unto that pit whence they came." Almost prescient, I do feel. Let them rot awhiles then repent at length the staggering loss they have surely provoked.

I am now prepared to receive the plaudits and congratulations of those loyal few who never doubted me. They at least may continue to visit these pages.