The Mix

In Circus, Current reading, Film, Hautvoir, Local projects, proto drafts, Sanford Meisner on August 29, 2015 at 5:53 am

This is written after a dream in which a local family, the Mayor and the Mayor’s wife all insisted on breaking down and revealing their personal sorrows to the dreamer. In the meantime, said dreamer was waiting for the Mayor to pay back a loan – money the dreamer needed with some urgency. (Any relation to the spot where the writing stopped last night is anything but fortuitous.)

After the dream came the latest in the local Scenes that Play Out in the Night. Involving a car, once again, and a motor chugging to life, and angry words, and a man yelling out “Au voleur!” (whether in earnest or in jest, who’s to know) and the heavy-sounding vehicle chugging off into the night. Whoever had yelled “Au voleur!”: now silent and possibly onboard the vehicle too.

After which the dog insisted now was the time for a sniff around the patch of weeds. After which I gave Walter de la Mare’s short story titled The Wharf a second chance. It is one of the stories in a collection “selected as likely to be immediately entertaining to adolescents.” According to the back cover blurb taken from a nineteen sixty-four edition of the Times Educational Supplement.

Immediately entertaining doesn’t strike me as the most apt description for The Wharf. Nor for Dylan Thomas’ The Peaches, or Faulkner’s Go Down Moses. I’ve yet to read the other selections in this book, picked up yesterday at the outdoor market in neighboring Gaillac. The schoolboy whose copy I purchased added some well-rendered cartoons on several pages.

Of equal significance, in real life and in story: a tiny moment in the bank director’s office – which was the reason for the bus ride to Gaillac. Purpose: a change in signing authorities following the yearly General Assembly of our small documentary film association. Hot in pursuit of minute and lavish attention to every possible intricacy designed to trap the fraudulent use of banking facilities, the director dashed out with a photocopy of the new Secretary’s identity card. She and I looked at each other. I don’t recall who voiced it first but we both shook our heads.

The head shaking referred to a recent Minister of Finances who, when pressing need made this imperative, was in the habit of ordering up a suitcase of cash from his banker in Geneva. Said cash hand delivered within the next few hours. We had  to wonder if the more minute of the check-points were part of this Minister’s legacy to the people.

Light/Dark. Up/Down. Solemn/Frivolous. Etc. On to the next bit.


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