4.19.2024 – syuzhet? fabula?

syuzhet? fabula?
cause-and-effect chain of events
narratology!

I picked up a copy of ReFocus: The Films of Lawrence Kasdan by Brett Davis (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh, 2024).

It is a part of the ReFocus books that make up a series of contemporary methodological and theoretical approaches to the interdisciplinary analyses and interpretations of neglected American directors, from the once-famous to the ignored, in direct relationship to American culture — its myths, values, and historical precepts.

That use of language in that little blurb alone takes my breath away and deserves its own appreciation.

Through out the book though, two other words caught my eye.

Syuzhet.

And Fabula.

When I first hit these words as I read through the book, I thought they were interesting and thought, ‘I’ll have to look those up.’

And then I hit them again and again and again.

As in … Bordwell states that any film narrative is supported by two systems: syuzhet and style. Syuzhet (often translated as “plot”) was a term coined by the early-twentieth-century Russian formalists such as Propp and Shklovsky to describe the way in which the fabula (“story”) is presented and arranged. According to Bordwell, while “the fabula embodies the action as a chronological, cause-and-effect chain of events occurring within a given duration and a spatial field,” the syuzhet is what guides the audience to comprehend the fabula.

What great words!

The Wiktionary defines syuzhet as narratology or ‘The way in which the story is told throughout a book or film; an employment of narrative.’

Wikipedia goes on to state, “… in narratology, fabula (Russian: фабула, IPA: [ˈfabʊlə]) equates to the thematic content of a narrative and syuzhet equates to the chronological structure of the events within the narrative.”

What was I getting into here?

But the Wikipedia article has the disclaimer, “This article may be confusing or unclear to readers. In particular, jargon, and incomprehensible text which fails to explain the topic.”

What another great bunch of words!

It is fascinating book!

In the book, it was the coupling the words neglected American directors with name Lawrence Kasdan that stuck with me.

Neglected?

This is the guy who wrote or directed, or both, movies like Body Heat, Accidental Tourist, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Silverado and the Big Chill.

His career is the stuff dreams are made of.

And it started when Mr. Kasden enrolled at the University of Michigan.

Because, according to legend, of the Hopwood Awards.

When the football team of any College plays on TV, the contract allows that College to air a commercial about the wonderfulness that is that College.

One year, the University of Michigan made a short Film Noir clip of a young man in a garment factory (implying it’s in New York City in the 1930’s) trying to convince his Dad to let him enroll at some College far away from New York.

“And Dad”, he says, “The schools biggest, most prestigious award doesn’t go to an athlete. It goes to the best writer.”

The kicker is that the young man is supposed to be Arthur Miller and he is talking about the Hopwood Awards at the University of Michigan.

Mr. Miller would go to win 2 of them.

So did Lawrence Kasdan.

I never met him but one night, I held a seat for him.

And the syuzhet of this night is best understood within this fabula.

While I was a student in Ann Arbor, I had a good friend in the Film School and he called me one night and he asked if I could help him out ‘with an event’.

He couldn’t tell me what it was but to be at Auditorium A of Angell Hall at 7pm, don’t be late … and bring a date.

Aud A of Angell Hall was the largest lecture hall on Campus, but it would be locked up at 7pm.

And bring a date?

My friend was being generous about my available options.

Still I got in touch with another student I was friendly with, one who had made it clear that the door was open to friendship and closed in every other way, and I explained to her my mystery date and for some reason she agreed to meet me at Angell Hall.

I got there a little bit before 7 and there was this line at the door, down the walk and around the building.

I spotted my ‘date’ and she looked at me like, ‘maybe we should have got here earlier’ as she gestured at the line.

But I grabbed her hand and with bravado I didn’t feel, I said, ‘gotta find my contact.

We walked to the front of the line and my friend from Film School was looking out a half open door, blocking the entrance to those at the head of the line, spotted me and yelled, ‘MIKE … OVER HERE!”

We ran up and he pulled us through the door and slammed it shut.

‘Come on‘ he said and he ran into an empty Aud A.

The lights were dimmed and we could just make out the two aisles and three banks of seats.

He ran down an aisle and stopped at about the 7th room and said to my ‘Date’, ‘HI, I’m Mike (he was a Mike), I need you guys to hold this row for me.’

You‘ he said to her, ‘stand here and don’t let anybody sit here. This row is reserved.’

‘Mike‘, he said to me, ‘You go down to the other end and don’t let anyone into this row. Got It?

‘Got it!’

And I ran between the seats to other end of the row.

Mike said they were going to open the doors and we should guard those seats with our lives.

And he left.

We were alone for a few minutes.

I looked at her and I shrugged.

She look back at me and shrugged back.

Then a mob was let into the room.

It was dark and it seems like all the seats were gone in a few seconds.

People sat on the side of the stage, on the floor in the aisle.

For some reason, the mob accepted that that 7th row was reserved and we got little hassle from anyone.

What in the world was going on?

I could not imagine.

All at once it got quiet.

Here came Mike leading a party of folks.

He came down the aisle and told my ‘date’ that she did a great job and to go sit be me.

Then he let his party into the row.

It the middle of the group was Lawrence Kasdan.

I asked the person in front me what was going on.

First the feller stared at me like I was too stupid to believe.

Then he pointed at Kasdan.

It’s Kasdan‘, he said, ‘and he brought a print of his latest movie. No one has seen it yet!’

Aud A went dark and the movie started and up the screen was Kevin Kline giving a bath to a kid singing ‘Jeremiah was a bullfrog.

So Lawrence Kasdan introduced a bunch of Michigan Film students (and me) to Mr. Kasdan’s homage to the University with his movie, The Big Chill.

Years later I live in the low country of South Carolina just miles from where the movie was made and the story takes place.

I have walked down the main street of Beaufort, SC, where Tom Berenger, William Hurt and Kevin Kline go jogging (Kline in a raggedy old Michigan T Shirt) more times than I can remember.

I try to tell folks about the scene.

I try to describe the movie to these kids who haven’t seen it.

Said to say so few remember it today.

Maybe neglected does apply.

But I’ll always remember the night I almost met Lawrence Kasdan.

As for my ‘Date’?

She had been trying to get her foot in door at the student newspaper, The Michigan Daily and once we figured out what we were seeing, she squeezed my arm and said, “I could be the first person to review this!” and she started working on something she could type up and get to the paper and maybe gain entre.

Sorry to say about 200 other students had the same idea and her review was not selected for publication.

For us, the door to friendship stayed open, but nothing more.

Happy for that.

Happy for my brush with greatness.

Happy to have seen the movie.

That’s enough.

As Chloe says in the movie, “I haven’t met that many happy people in my life. How do they act?’

Syuzhet?

Fabula!

3.18.2024 – fresh and fair come back

fresh and fair come back
hang over pasture and road
lowland grasses rise

From the poem, Uplands as published in Chicago Poems by Carl Sandburg (Henry Holt and Company, 1916).

Wonder as of old things
Fresh and fair come back
Hangs over pasture and road.
Lush in the lowland grasses rise
And upland beckons to upland.
The great strong hills are humble.

According to National Wildlife Federation Website, The Southern Live Oak “…Unlike most oak trees, which are deciduous, southern live oaks are nearly evergreen. They replace their leaves over a short period of several weeks in the spring.

Southern live oaks are fast-growing trees, but their growth rate slows with age. They may reach close to their maximum trunk diameter within 70 years. The oldest live oaks in the country are estimated to be between several hundred to more than a thousand years old.”

Wonder of old things.

Fresh and fair come back.

You can walk under them in the Spring time and your feet rustle in the fresh fallen leaves of the same Spring time along the Spanish Moss Trail in Beaufort County, South Carolina.

The trail is a rails-to-trails project that follows a track of a small South Carolina Railroad line through the salt marshes and live oaks of the South Carolina Low Country.

What was the name of that railroad you ask?

What else but the Magnolia Line.

3.16.2024 – as parents made clear

as parents made clear
you know by age three, only
proper place to pee …

From the Official Website of the City of Savannah, under Public Safety Info for folks attending the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in downtown Savannah:

Use a Restroom, Not a Street
Just so we’re clear: as your parents probably made clear to you by the age of three, the only proper place to pee is in a potty. The city has provided portable toilets in the downtown area for you. Please use them. The highest number of arrests each year involve those who don’t

The Sub Heading on this webpage states:

We may not have any advice for curing a green beer hangover or how to get your family to agree on the perfect parade-watching spot, but we do have some great tips to help make your St. Pat’s experience safe, fun, and citation-free!

I am reminded of what Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. wrote in his article, Natural Law (Harvard Law Review 40, 41 1918):

There is in all men a demand for the superlative, so much so that the poor devil who has no other way of reaching it attains it by getting drunk!

By the way, this is the only way I celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

12.21.2023 – gas station beef sticks

gas station beef sticks
best before 2031 …
Well, I will save one …

My son who lives with us here in the beautiful low country of South Carolina is recovering from a terrible bout of pancreatitis.

Since the onset of this malady he has lost 50 pounds and we struggle with him to balance out a diet that is both diabetic friendly as well gastro-enterology friendly.

A lot of the recommendations are contradictory.

Can’t eat that.

Don’t eat this.

Avoid anything with these.

On top of that, he just doesn’t feel hungry and has a heightened sense of smell.

So what to do?

We have more or less boiled all the options down to the effort to get weight back on the boy and if he will eat it and he can keep it down, it’s all good.

Just this week he has been out and about in his car for the first time in months and rediscovering all his old drive-thru friends.

All good.

Even though it was this diet that most likely caused all this off in the first place, it’s all good.

Get the boy to eat.

Today he came home with a bag of gas station food.

Looking over his purchases, I took out one of his ‘beef sticks’ and noted that the expiration or best-if-used by date was in 2031.

“Well”, he said, “I will save one.”

9.15.2023 – we still check the mail

we still check the mail
everyday and there are times
the mail is for us

They call it the sloooow country.

Everything seems to run at a different pace down here.

Even the mail.

You can tell we are old.

We walk to our mail box and check it every day.

But if we mail something to one of our kids, we have learned to give them a heads up to ‘check their mailbox’, because if we didn’t, they wouldn’t.

We often get mail.

I should say we often get mail in our mail box.

I remember the times when mail came everyday and there was a lot of it.

Even in college we got a lot of mail.

One of my roommates subscribed to Sports Illustrated.

We all looked forward to the day it got delivered though I have to say, with that time honored tradition, my roommate wanted to be the one who read it first.

When the magazine was nice and fresh and unread.

Something I could relate to and really understood.

Especially on those odd days I was home and got the mail and got to read it first.

We all knew that the edition of Sports Illustrated that came out AFTER the Super Bowl edition would be the famous swimsuit edition.

My roommate was determined to be the first one to read it that magazine so when he left for the day that day, he took the mailbox key with him.

I noticed the mail box key was missing from its hook that morning and as we all knew what day Sports Illustrated was delivered, I put it all together.

My first thought was that it had been well played and I silent applauded my roommate’s aforethought.

Then I accepted the challenge.

I would be the first one to read that magazine.

I knew that from the window in my room I could see up the street.

I got my books and parked on the window seat and after a bit I caught sight of our mail person working his way towards our apartment building.

Timing it just right I got down the steps with a another key in my fist and got to the mailbox at just as the mail person unlocked the boxes.

“Anything for 811?,” I asked, all innocence, just being helpful.

The guy looks at his cart, grabs a pile of envelopes and Sports Illustrated and handed it over without a question.

The look on my roommate’s face when he came in to see the magazine open on the coffee table was worth the price of tuition that semester.

With the magic of the low country, sometimes that mail in our mail box is for us.

More often than not, if there is more than one piece of mail in the mailbox, one of those pieces of mail will be for someone else in the complex, the neighborhood or at least, the same state.

I once ordered something from Amazon and got a text message that it had been delivered.

The email I got said, ‘Package left in mail box.’

There was no package in our mail box and I knew what happened.

Someone else got my package.

I wanted to post a note at the mailbox box that said, WHO EVER GOT MY MAIL, PLEASE GIVE IT BACK and sign it with my name and address.

I have to say that in an age when you can count on everyone owning a gun, my desire to leave such a note, with my name and address on it, takes more courage than I got right now.

I just got mad.

But it turned out that someone didn’t take my package.

They just put it back in the outbox.

It did arrive.

And it only took three months.

We still check the mail everyday.

And there are times, the mail is for us.