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I hadn't heard about this. I know of the 'no politics' rule, but can someone just outline what he said? Or post a good link?Flowerdk4 said:I am a wee bit amased that, as far as I can see, no one has talked about Harold Pinter´s speech at the Swedish academy, when he got the nobel prize. I mean this is a book site and it is the nobel prize in litterature he won.
Anyone care to comment??
Flower
his speechKookamoor said:I hadn't heard about this. I know of the 'no politics' rule, but can someone just outline what he said? Or post a good link?
jaybe said:You really should.
Minniemal said:
When we look into a mirror we think the image that confronts us is accurate. But move a millimetre and the image changes. We are actually looking at a never-ending range of reflections. But sometimes a writer has to smash the mirror – for it is on the other side of that mirror that the truth stares at us.
I believe that despite the enormous odds which exist, unflinching, unswerving, fierce intellectual determination, as citizens, to define the real truth of our lives and our societies is a crucial obligation which devolves upon us all. It is in fact mandatory.
If such a determination is not embodied in our political vision we have no hope of restoring what is so nearly lost to us – the dignity of man.
Truth in drama is forever elusive. You never quite find it but the search for it is compulsive. The search is clearly what drives the endeavour. The search is your task. More often than not you stumble upon the truth in the dark, colliding with it or just glimpsing an image or a shape which seems to correspond to the truth, often without realising that you have done so. But the real truth is that there never is any such thing as one truth to be found in dramatic art. There are many. These truths challenge each other, recoil from each other, reflect each other, ignore each other, tease each other, are blind to each other. Sometimes you feel you have the truth of a moment in your hand, then it slips through your fingers and is lost.
Mountain Language pretends to no such range of operation. It remains brutal, short and ugly. But the soldiers in the play do get some fun out of it. One sometimes forgets that torturers become easily bored. They need a bit of a laugh to keep their spirits up. This has been confirmed of course by the events at Abu Ghraib in Baghdad. Mountain Language lasts only 20 minutes, but it could go on for hour after hour, on and on and on, the same pattern repeated over and over again, on and on, hour after hour.
Harold Pinter is one of England's or, to be more exact, one of the world's, most renowned living playwrights. His complex themes and distinctive cryptic style have added the terms Pinteresque and Pinter Pauses to our contemporary lexicon. His career encompasses stage, screen and radio and his accomplishments include acting and directing as well as writing.
Pinter was born in 1930 in Hackney, a working-class neighborhood in London's East End, the son of a Jewish tailor. Growing up in this largely non-Jewish area influenced the feelings of alienation that pervade much of his work, as did the advent of World War II when he was an early adolescent. He went to Grocers' Academy School, a grammar school subsidised by the City of London Livery Company, the Grocers. This school decades later became Hackney Downs, a comprehensive school.
He received a grant to study at the London Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts but left after two years. When called to do his national service in 1949, he risked jail as a conscientious objector (but was fined instead). A year later he started to publish poems under the name Harold Pinta and began working as a bit-part actor on a BBC Radio program. He resumed formal studies for a short time at the Central School of Speech and Drama. His strongest early literary influences were Kafka and Hemingway, the former quite evident in some of his writing.
I'm very glad I read the speech, but I can't call it "uplifting." It made me feel like I'd been punched in the stomach...and also as if I'd punched someone in the stomach.jaybe said:that speech was amazing and uplifting...
StillILearn said:We can discuss the man and his works. Why do you feel he is crap, CDA? I'm here to learn.
(I've found this, so far.)
And you will ask: why doesn't his poetry
speak of dreams and leaves
and the great volcanoes of his native land.
Come and see the blood in the streets.
Come and see
the blood in the streets.
Come and see the blood
in the streets!*
StillILearn said:Which poem brings to mind Pablo Neruda's poem, which Pinter quotes in his speech: