All posts in category writing

alain robbe-grillet

Speaking of his autobiography in a 1985 interview with The Paris Review:

INTERVIEWER

Some people like the theory of literature contained in the book above all.

ROBBE-GRILLET

Indeed! Which is the continuation of what is in my novels and my theoretical works. None of these points is indifferent to me, at the same time none really interests me. What does interest me is the weaving of all these different elements in the book; the way they mix in movement, constantly shifting and changing, as if they were fragments of me. When I think of myself, I feel that I am made up of fragments in which there are childhood memories, fictional characters I particularly care about—such as Henri de Corinth—and even characters who belong to literature and with whom I feel I have family ties. Stavrogin of The Possessed and Madame Bovary are related to me exactly as my grandfather is, or my aunt. So it is the way all these figures move and refuse to be fixed that excites me. Well, at least that is what I say today. Another day I might say something different!

[…]

I am certain that a novelist is someone who attributes a different reality-value to the characters and events of his story than to those of “real” life. A novelist is someone who confuses his own life with that of his characters.

a knoblike process

Creeping crepuscule, descrescent light, harbinger of dreaded return to EST, where darkness dampens day’s early end. Decumbent drone diminishes daily, drowsy in the drawing room. Sip long from murky melodies, muddy froth spilling forth in rivulets, dirgeful delights diverging in drone’s ear canals. Mellifluous miasma of musical melancholia!

Dismantling of outdoor seating commences! Desperate attempts to affect staring at nothing continues. Doctor Chumply the Mouth Breather appears, Mickey D’s in hand, heart-attack-in-waiting, following with tiny aggrieved steps the trail of nitroglycerin tablets strewn across the decking. Take the elevator, not the stairs, for they are locked, despite the sign in the kitchen encouraging good health through stairs-taking. O, Dr. Chumply, what will become of you, will you follow those tablets to the Haunted Wood™ where the witch stokes her stove as she awaits your fleshly delights.

[But Christine, what of loneliness, standing there behind the invisibility cloak, always working, always writing, what did engagement mean for you, O Invisible Author, did you drape yourself in a duvet woven with words…]

Glossary

lumpfish: Any of various fishes of the family Cyclopteridae, especially Cyclopterus lumpus of North Atlantic waters, having pelvic fins united to form a suction disk and a body bearing prominent tubercles.

tubercle: A small, rounded prominence or process, such as a wartlike excrescence on the roots of some leguminous plants or a knoblike process in the skin or on a bone.

Quick now! Homophone challenge question: would you rather your words resonate or resinate. Think about it while staring into the clouds.

Nod to From your favourite sky

2 Comments

by sean on November 6, 2013 • Permalink

Posted by sean on November 6, 2013

https://sd-stewart.com/2013/11/06/a-knoblike-process/

in the light of time*

When nothing is sacred, nothing is safe—John Hay

When there were less of us, we fit inside like tiny figures in a diorama. We ran across the plains afraid of violent storms. Lush greenery threatened to smother us, just as it also lent us sustenance. If we did not pacify this place it would surely destroy us. We squabbled among ourselves, like we now still do, but we were not yet strong enough to shatter our shadow box.

When there were more of us, we burst the seams of the land. We took a liking to engines and asphalt, all distance to traverse only at light speed. We ravaged the countryside, built our cities, made our money. Things trumped being. Our lives soon chased after ways to forget. Prohibition never stood a chance.

When there were too many of us, a few grew concerned. Nothing, however, changed. We kept building and we kept paving. One of our leaders proffered the idea of a system of parks, a way to assuage our guilt, an excuse for free reign on what remained. Of course we seized on it. Those places have since burst their own seams, paved as they are for easy access.

When there are less of us again, perhaps more will notice. It will be too late. For now we careen serene toward the end, a night we try never to see. Perpetual light, shone by our own hands, is what we embrace, for in darkness we fear what we came to create.

*soundtrack

4 Comments

by sean on October 1, 2013 • Permalink

Posted in dark, ecology, flying saucer attack, horror of humanity, human behavior, john hay, light, naturalists, prose poetry, writers

Posted by sean on October 1, 2013

https://sd-stewart.com/2013/10/01/in-the-light-of-time/

another review of rain crow

A new review of Rain Crow straight from the pages of the most excellent Razorcake, the only official non-profit DIY punk rock fanzine in the USA. If you like the punk rock, why don’t you have a subscription, huh. (Note: Razorcake is a PRINT magazine, with actual pages that you turn with your fingers. The reviews are also posted on their website.)

(Thanks, Todd!)

2 Comments

by sean on September 24, 2013 • Permalink

Posted in amateur alchemist flies into the sun, rain crow, reviews, writing, zines

Posted by sean on September 24, 2013

https://sd-stewart.com/2013/09/24/another-review-of-rain-crow/

excerpt from ‘book of thoughts’

Excerpt from Book of Thoughts, an erasure text.

Read another excerpt from Book of Thoughts at Ink Sweat & Tears.

first review of rain crow

Rain Crow received its first review last week at DJ Frederick’s excellent site One Minute Cassette Reviews. His description of me writing ‘like an alchemist’ is a good reminder that… I must return soon to my laboratory.

If you have some time, I recommend poking around among DJ Frederick’s many other projects, including his various radio shows (my favorite so far is his folk show Night Train to Mundo Fine), links to all of which can be found at his Cottage Industry site.

3 Comments

by sean on July 30, 2013 • Permalink

Posted in amateur alchemist flies into the sun, rain crow, reviews, writing, zines

Posted by sean on July 30, 2013

https://sd-stewart.com/2013/07/30/first-review-of-rain-crow/

thomas bernhard poem

Beyond this black forest
I stoke this fire of my soul
flickering with the breathing of the cities
and the blackbirds of fear.
With bare hands I kill these flames
that climb the air into my brain
and shiver in my name.
My heart drifts as a cloud
over the rooftops
along the rivers,
until I return, a later rain
deep in the fall.

—Thomas Bernhard, In Hora Mortis / Under the Iron of the Moon (p. 103)

[My review of this book]

6 Comments

by sean on July 17, 2013 • Permalink

Posted in austrian literature, poetry, thomas bernhard

Posted by sean on July 17, 2013

https://sd-stewart.com/2013/07/17/thomas-bernhard-poem/

fragment 21

see how the living tend the dead
on a wedge of grass sewn between
the quarry and the chemical plant.

the quarry detonates explosives
once per day, a violent event
often not unlike an earthquake.
the plant contains enough
toxic materials (296,000 lbs)
that it must tell the feds
how many people an explosion
would affect. is it just me or…

as if they know, vultures gather
though of course there is nothing
here for them at this dull moment.
the dead are buried and the living
yet tend them. while in the grass
crouch downy killdeer young
whose alarms sound at my approach.

busy with its own survival
a great crested flycatcher
hawks insects on the edge
of this green death field.
and the gravel path yields
a skittering cicada as it
unwinds the last coils
of its own brief life.

4 Comments

by sean on June 27, 2013 • Permalink

Posted in fragments

Posted by sean on June 27, 2013

https://sd-stewart.com/2013/06/27/fragment-21/

fragment 19

small things changed, tiny even,
we marvel at how they alter us.
while enormous things ever looming
leave us to cower in a corner.

tuning the orchestra of change
is a task designed for certain
of us who thrive on constant flux.
is flux necessary for vitality…
i do not know the answer to this.

one change i like is seasonal change
but nature makes that change itself
i. am. not. involved. at. all.
it is change swirling around me
dipping inside me to the dark river
along which we all share a shoreline.

protracted change is excruciating.
please just get it over with!
don’t drag us over these hot coals
any longer than is needed.

but perhaps the worst is craving
change but feeling unable or unwilling
to rise above the fear to effect it.
this change paralysis grips us tight
as we suffer for want of its release.

(sometimes i stare forlorn
at a thing i want changed
for days, weeks, months.
change, change, change, do it!
please don’t make me be the one.)

and i wonder how it would feel
to suddenly change everything
all at once, an eruption of change!
exploding habits, shattering routines,
would we all just crack down the middle
or would everything suddenly become clear.

rain crow has landed

Printing in progress!

After a five-year hiatus, I made a new zine. This manuscript was first conceived for a chapbook contest that I did not win. Rather than continue to run hither and thither for possibly years on end with Rain Crow clenched in my clackity-clack claws, prostrating myself before the micro-press literati, I decided to publish it myself, just like I have always done. Regarding the content, it has all appeared here in this space in one form or another. So, it’s possible regular readers may not be interested. However, in its defense, it does feature illustrations and a handmade cover. Reading words in print has also been proven to cause less eye strain than reading them on screen, according to an unscientific study conducted by a known “damned bastard of a cloud-monger” (Baudelaire’s words, not mine).

Orders can be placed through PayPal (from this page) or by old-fashioned cash through the post (if anyone does that anymore). I am also open to TRADES. While I hope to recoup at least some of my printing and postage costs, I am definitely interested if you have something to barter in exchange. This can be artwork, writing, music, or any other kind of creative eruption. It does not have to be a zine. It can be some hand-scrawled poems you wrote while waiting for the bus. In fact, that might even be better than a zine.

~~If you want to send a trade (or cash), send me a message so we can trade addresses.~~

Order by PayPal here. If you have a color preference from the photo above, please make note of it in the order form. All colors are limited and others are yet to be printed, so there are no guarantees, but I’ll do my best.

SOLD OUT! Maybe check Quimby’s.

5 Comments

by sean on May 31, 2013 • Permalink

Posted in black-billed cuckoo, rain crow, writing, zines

Posted by sean on May 31, 2013

https://sd-stewart.com/2013/05/31/rain-crow-has-landed/