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Drive She Said: Thoughts on Emily Dickinson, Kate Winslet and HBO's Mildred Pierce

Recently I came across a poem by Emily Dickinson that speaks of confinement:

I never hear the word "escape"
Without a quicker blood,
A sudden expectation,
A flying attitude!

I never hear of prisons broad
By soldiers battered down,
But I tug childish at my bars
Only to fail again! (1859)

Such lines support the most common image we have of Dickinson -- as a secluded poet, who experienced moments of only private joy.

But it's fascinating also to think of this poem as having to do with her lack of audience and publication -- as if what can't escape the confinement of her room are her poems themselves.

Dickinson published less than a dozen of her nearly 1800 poems.  Of these, many were horribly rewritten by editors, to rid the work of its disruptive rhythms and dissonant slant rhymes -- precisely those qualities that make her the Thelonious Monk of poetry.

Judging from the dates of the poems in my book, this is one of Dickinson's earlier ones.  What's striking is that even here, there's ultimately little hope of "escape"; her attempts at freedom are "childish" she says.  But, one might ask, if her work seemed doomed to confinement from the start, what drove her to write so much?

A hint, I think, might be found in the repetitive quality ("only to fail again") to which this poem alludes.  This brings to my  mind a distinction made by the cultural critic Slavoj Zizek between "desire" and "drive".

Drawing on Lacanian psychoanalytic theory, Zizek tells us that "desire" is motivated by the hope of achieving some end (e.g. fame, publication, an audience, etc.).  Drive is what happens when such a goal becomes so elusive (or simply hopeless or impossible), that one keeps going just for the hell of it.  As Zizek puts it,

"...let us imagine an individual trying to perform some simple manual task -- say grabbing an object that repeatedly eludes him:  the moment he changes his attitude, starts to find  pleasure in just repeating the failed task [squeezing the object, which again and again eludes him], he shifts from desire to drive..." (p. 10)

The "driven", according to this logic, are often characterized as rebels -- for what motivates them are not the standard-issue rewards that society doles out, but something weirder, more eccentric.

But if driven-ness can have such alienating qualities, why not re-channel one's desire toward something more recognizable and achievable?  The problem with this, according to Zizek, is that, paradoxically, this can be profoundly unsatisfying.  For our desires are often not really our own, but, as he puts it, "desire for the desire of the Other."  That's why they leave one open to humiliation.

Is not the pursuit of fame, for example, often rooted in a desire to create an image of oneself that others will not just approve of, but desire themselves?  A wonderful example of this can be found in HBO's mini-series Mildred Pierce.

Artist as Social Climber

The Todd Haynes version of Mildred Pierce accomplishes something rare in U.S. films.  Haynes captures, better than any recent director, the intense desire to rid oneself of class shame.

Early in the film, Mildred takes a job as a waitress; not only is she reviled by her daughter for this "disgrace", but thanks to Kate Winslet's masterful, nearly excruciating performance, you know that Pierce hates herself for "stooping so low."

Later, we see that Vida, Mildred's daughter (and the externalization of Mildred's own ambitions for the good life), does find a route out of the reviled service industry (and a way to look good): she sings opera.  Mildred is so taken with this that she spends the profits she's made in the restaurant business on buying fine outfits for Vida, for her debut at the Hollywood Bowl.

When Vida appears on stage, Mildred, in the audience, can hardly contain herself.  She gasps with excitement and begins sobbing when, at the end of the performance, her daughter sings "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows" directly to her. (Winslet's mastery of facial expression here is incredible).  It's touching but pathetic.

And it gets worse.  Vida runs off with Mildred's "classy" husband -- leaving her mother bankrupt and even more humiliated than when she worked as a waitress.

Poetry vs. Prose

Of course, our Reality TV culture, which insists there is something wrong with us if we don't really want (conventional) success, understands the motivations of Mildred Pierce better than those of Dickinson.

But the beauty of Haynes film is that it suggests that cliched narratives of "the good life" are at least as confining and alienating as being driven to follow an eccentric path.

Perhaps Dickinson was hinting at her own disinterest in such conventions -- more the stuff of novels than of poetry -- when she began one of her most well-loved poems with the lines: "I dwell in Possibility -- /A fairer House than Prose --".  Thoughts? 

Now Available: "Prom Night" - a Collaboration from Artist Tamara Gonzales and Poet Jerome Sala

It was great to collaborate with artist Tamara Gonzales on this chapbook.  We were amazed at how well the poems, inspired by some of my favorite horror stories and movies,  and Tamara's goth images, fit together.  But rather than hype you on this book myself, here's from Jeffrey Wright's  review  in the Brooklyn Rail:

"Prom Night is a slick date: a poetry/collage collaboration by Jerome Sala and Tamara Gonzales.  With echoes of Poe and H.P. Lovecraft, the camp and sultry verses are paired with eye-dazzling images of equally camp and sultry sirens in full color.  Sala, like one of Gonzales's blackbirds, is listening to the 'ruler of an underworld' in 'Lost Planet.'  Pluto's demotion and its attendant emotion are dissected in Sala's tight style.

"The Goth undertones are reflected in Gonzales's punk-glam shades of Frida Kahlo and Kiki Smith.  A stiletto combo in a pop package: 'a psychic feedback loop that celebrates our universal damnation.'"

Michael Lally, at Lally's Alley adds,  "Underneath the campy subject matter is a profound subtext articulated with lyrical panache."  (Read Lally's review in full here.)

Here's the title poem, with just one of the images that interweave with it in the book.  (Btw: the book has extensive notes at the end that provide a key to its pop references...)

Prom Night

The Gingiss Tux kingdom has fallen
Prom Season is haunted by a Slasher
Every salacious kiss calls forth a hatchet from the void
And Anger's accusatory finger points forth with menace

The Graduates call in sick
Their carnations rot, unwanted in their un-watered garbage cans
The football team remains unlettered
A blank sweater goes better with this illiterate State of Fear
Ruled by the Prom's forsaken crown

Empty kingdom!
Forced entries inspired by roofies forgotten
Fast exits demanded by fright in their place!
The back seats of drunken cars abandoned --
No vomit touches the fuzzy upholstery
No hand squeezes the absent thighs

Meanwhile, the Slasher proposes negotiations
With the United Federation of Potential Victims
Without a contract signed in the blood of sacrifice
The film cannot go on
Retribution for awkward adolescent indiscretion
Cannot rain down its severed limbs and sex organs
On dark rows of hissing cynics
On the other side of the dream's silver walls
Milk Duds will go unsold,
Waiting in vain under their hot glass counters
Chemical popcorn will stop twirling in its iron cradle

The Slasher speaks but no one listens
He whispers into the celluloid night
But on the other side of his screed and his screen
Only his absence applauds in the empty seats

Order Here:

You can order Prom Night from the link below.  It's just $13.00.  Enjoy! 

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/prom-night/13000569

 

Looking (at Nike) Through Gary Gilmore's Eyes: Thoughts Inspired by the Film "Art and Copy"

The other night, I watched Art and Copy, a documentary about the Ad people who created the most memorable campaigns over the last 30 years or so. 

In it, you get the behind-the-scenes story on mega-hits like "Got milk?", "I want my MTV", and those spots done for the Reagan campaign by Hal Riney: "It's morning in America again," and the ominous one that began, "There's a bear in the woods."

"Memorable", though, is too puny a word for one campaign they covered: Wieden and Kennedy's "Just Do It", for Nike.

Since its inception over 20 years ago, I don't know that there's another commercial phrase I've heard in common parlance more often -- and applied to such a wide variety of contexts.

There are entire books written about this campaign, from both the marketing and the cultural studies perspectives.  It almost seems as if there's nothing left to say about the way it linked the longing for self-improvement with getting in shape -- and associated this all, starting with Michael Jordan, with the era's most sensational athletes.

Nevertheless, the documentary revealed something about what inspired Nike's tagline that got my mental wheels turning.  Writer Dan Wieden, who is credited with coming up with "Just Do It", mentioned the story of famed murderer Gary Gilmore.

Gilmore, it might be remembered, when asked for last words when he was about to be executed by firing squad, replied, simply, "Let's do it."

Gary Gilmore Is Not a Role Model.  Or is he?

You can see why Wieden's "Just Do It" grew out of Gilmore's "Let's do it."  Both phrases communicate impatience with procrastination -- mixed with bravado.  This may be why Gilmore's line itself, before the Nike slogan appeared, enjoyed its own viral circulation throughout pop culture.

Gilmore himself was sort of a folk anti-hero.  By waiving his own rights to appeal, and begging the Utah Supreme Court to kill him (rather than consider life imprisonment), he earned a sort of populist respect; how many times have you heard grumbling about spending "tax money" to keep killers fed?

He also donated his corneas to science (which were used shortly after his death -- and led to the great punk song, "Looking Through Gary Gilmore's Eyes" by the Adverts).

At the same time, his impulsiveness and swagger have been read as contributing to his downfall. Here's how True Crime writer Karen Ramsland puts it:

"...he hadn't the patience to earn what he desired.  From a young age, Gary Mark Gilmore just went out and took whatever he wanted -- beer, cigarettes, cars, money.  More times than not (according to him) he was successful, but when he wasn't, he landed in the slammer.  He'd just get an idea into his head and do it."

With this self-destructive quality in mind, you might say that Nike's and Gilmore's "tag lines" contradict each other.  For me, in fact, they bring to mind the old Freudian idea of the two drives:

Nike's phrase is emblematic of Eros.  In its endorsement of fitness, self-transcendence and positive achievement, it's life-affirming.

Gilmore's phrase, by contrast, hurries his own demise.  What better signifier of Thanatos, or the death drive?

But a contradiction also implies a relationship.  And what both "slogans" share in this case is the connotation of a defiant individualism.  That's why this pairing speaks, for me at least, to one of the key traits for which U.S. culture is both loved and hated.

On the one hand, stubborn "individuality" is often portrayed as necessary to protect freedom: muckrakers stand up against governments, corporations and institutions in the interest of "keeping democracy safe".

On the other, when "individuality" appears in more mundane situations, it's often seen as devolving into mere narcissism -- a narcissism not only harmful to society, but even the planet.

Check out this rant by Al Pacino from the movie Devil's Advocate.  In it, Pacino (Satan himself!) complains about an athlete of sorts -- a jogger (who, for all I know may be wearing Nikes) named Eddie Barzoon or "God's special little creature":

 

Lebron James: Rugged Individual or Narcissist?

The ambiguity around the idea of "the individual" nowadays, sometimes makes it difficult to read Nike's usually masterful TV spots.  Here's a controversial one which aired right after Lebron James announced that he'd leave the Cavaliers for the Miami Heat:

 

Judging from web comments, it appears many people disliked this spot, perhaps because they resented all the hype around James' decision to switch from his hometown team.

Not being a Cleveland or Miami fan, I know I found myself a bit irritated when I saw it.  Despite all its irony (parodying other sports spots) and even self-deprecation, I thought the superstar still ended up looking kind of vain.  So much so, that I found myself muttering mentally, "But Lebron, I don't care what you do."  Thoughts?