Jitterbug Perfume, Week 12

JITTERBUG PERFUME
Week 12, Dec. 22 – Dec. 28

Page 83

“It was then that she realized that it was the odor of the incense that had intrigued her all along, only now the smells filled in the fantasies that heretofore had been mere outlines, smeary contours scrawled in ghost chalk. “ Oh, the musky-dusky delight, the sensuous evocations of the olfactory wafts emanating from Kudra’s incense. Sticks of sandalwood send their smoky scent curling across the page. Can you smell it? This page sends a delicious jolt of literary mind meld. I’m in the midst of an Anaïs Nin saturation fest.—making way through the seven published volumes of her diaries, “Henry and June”—the movie and the book (her account of years shared with Henry Miller and his wife June), and “A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953.” Of all the astonishing women who have graced TR’s writings, Kudra and Anaïs are surly kindred spirits, their immortal souls rising and falling, frolicking, gamboling, laughing together as bubbles in that great primordial soup where everyone goes, be they born of imagination or mortal woman or sprouted from seed. Here, on page 83, Kudra, like Anaïs, discovers the life juice, the essence of Experience. Anaïs’s books carry the scent of sandalwood incense, invoking the spirit of Kudra, and here’s a golden drop of purest santalum album for beautiful Kudra on page 83.

Mary
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Great quote, Mary. I have to admit that as much as I love this novel, my sensory preferences are for the natural, not the concocted. I don't really like anything but the mildest and faintest of perfumes. Incense gives me a headache. :-)Hey Mary, I heard a rumor that Tom and Anais got it on in '72. Pass it on! :-)

Dale
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"Wow! Jesus! No wonder there are two dots over the i!" --Tom Robbins, Wild Ducks Flying Backward

Mary
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Ah, Dale...it's understandable that you would agree with Bonanza Jellybean's own preference--eau du natural. Chemical additives and concoctions comprising the vast majority of commercial scents--incense and perfumes--are enough to curl anyone's nose hairs. But, my dear, have you had occasion to sniff a sandalwood bead or nugget, or pure sandalwood oil--true sandalwood, not the imposters? Rich, powdery, earthy wood scent, never flowery or fruity? The tree must be at least 80 years old to yield it's treasure. (Sadly, the trees are now endangered with over exploitation; true sandalwood is rare--and expensive--these days.) There is an old occult shop here, tucked away deep inside the shadowy halls of the Pike Place Market. Subtle and discrete, it would be easy for a casual visitor to pass it by unnoticed, yet it is a personal touchstone for me, a thread running through many years. The tiny shop is dim inside and filled with all manner of exotic ancient mystery and treasure, from tiny brass opium weights, tools, stones, herbs and materials to attract and guide psychic powers, and primitive containers to grind and mix the potions, to hundreds (maybe thousands) of vials of pure essential oils and incense stacked on old wooden racks, darkened by the years and polished to a deep patina by the magic they hold. No doubt a discreet patron of the arts could obtain eye of newt and lizard's blood, too. Faint refrains of a busking wild Gypsy violin echo through the labyrinth of narrow hallways through the door of the tiny shop, mingling with theexotic, earthy scents and mystery. I visited there yesterday, consulting with the (verrrrry kindly, master of the tantric arts) proprietor, explaining that purity, or near purity, is essential for this literary intent--to submerge fully into the world of Kudra and Alobar, Anais and Henry...to fill all senses to the brim and dive in. He did not disappoint. Even as I write, tendrils of sandalwood waft across the page. This, then, is the literary cocktail I'll be tossing back come New Years Eve--six parts Tom Robbins, four parts Anais Nin, and just a splash of absinthe--for auld lang syne.

Bottoms up!

Mary
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Mary -I've lived in Seattle 2 1/2 years and frequent Pike's Market... what is thisstore that I must have missed there?

Sharon
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Could it be that Mary is describing Tensing Momo? It isn't hard to find, but it's a treasure of a shop. Many wonderful, magical things have I purchased there, and many more will be mine in the future. The casual tourist will wander in and out in the space of minutes, but the shop begs to be explored. Take your time, look behind and below and around corners. It's worth your time, in my humble opinion. I'd also recommend the alternative book store (see if you can find the poster that says FUCK AUTHORITY - it's there but not easy to find), Cafe Paloma, and Three Sisters Bakery. Pike Place sometimes is criticized for being a tourist trap, but if you visit it early in the morning or late in the afternoon on a rainy day, you'll find that the magic is still definitely there. TR Content: The old market, worn half away by dampness and fingerprints, sweat drops and shoe heels, pigeon claws and vegetable crates, soiled by butcher seepage, sequined with salmon scales, smelling of roses, raw prawns, and urine, blessedly freed for the winter from the demanding entertain-me-for-nothing! gawkings of out-of-town tourists, the market bustled now with fishmongers and Vietnamese farmers, florists and runaways, flunkies and junkies, coffee brewers and balloon benders, office workers and shopgirls and winos of all races; with pensioners, predators, panhandlers, and prostitutes, and (to complete the p's) political polemists, punks potters, puppeteers, poets, and policemen; with musicians, jugglers, fire-eaters (dry days only), tyro magicians, and lingering loafers such as he (Switters) seemed to be. Pike Place is utterly captured by Tom's lovely prose.

Ever yours,
The Troll
Jeff in Seattle
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Oh, my dear. You've captured the Market--and Tom's words beautifully. In the late 60s and early 70s, it was under the godawful developers' gun, the greedy gleam in their eyes saw only multi-million-dollar property. We organized and fought, raised money through selling name tiles that now cover the floor. (For an account of the fight, see historylink.com and enter Pike Place Market in the search box.) No mere tourist trap, the Market belongs to The People; we are willing to share with seekers who care to find. It is the heart and soul of Seattle. Footsteps of travellers and mystics, musicians and dancers, sea captains, fishermen, artists and farmers, many long gone, make up it's patina'd soul. Tom and Darrell Bob Houston frequented the hallowed halls and deliciously seedy bars nearby. If you listen very carefully, you can hear the whispers of adventurers both tragic and joyful echoing through the halls. Mystery abounds there. It is a mystery that inspires. Here is an excerpt, written by an enlightened soul, illuminating what might have been (source discretely omitted to protect the innocent):

...suddenly a paper airplane might descend through the air for me to catch. Would a message be scrawled upon it? Or would there be enigmatic symbols painted provocatively on the wings with glitter nail polish? How would I decipher them? Perhaps I'd dash into the fish stalls and find an ancient Turkish grandmother who, although she'd understand perfectly what was inscribed, would refuse to translate... a look of shock (and perhaps secret glee) on her wizened face...

Now, that's magic.

Mary
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Read More......

Jitterbug Perfume, Week 11, Daffy Yum

JITTERBUG PERFUME
Week 11, Dec. 15 – Dec. 21

Page 72

Wahoo! Kudra has arrived. Our international woman of mystery shows up at the lamasery dressed as a boy. Best quote: "At night in the dark we become our shadows." I think we are always becoming our shadow selves in whatever degree we illuminate our darknesses.I was walking yesterday and came upon a purple bulb with a green stalk lying in the middle of the rain-splattered sidewalk. It looked like a beet. Probably was a flower bulb. But I decided it was a beet and felt blessed by a little synchronicity. If it weren't for self-delusion, lusion would elude me entirely.

Dale
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“If it weren't for self-delusion, lusion would elude me entirely."Good one, Dale!T.R. content; "When a person accepts a broader definition of reality, a broader net is cast upon the waters of fortune." SLAA

Michael
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Best Quote:If it weren't for self-delusion, lusion would elude me entirely.Thanks Dale, I love this!

Gabrielle
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Many, many years ago a stranger approached me on a beach on a Greek Island. We were both naked. Apropos of nothing, he asked me if I'd ever read Jitterbug Perfume. Surprised, I told him that I had and I loved it. We chatted a little about it, then he said that he had approached me because I really reminded him of Kudra.I have never ever been so flattered in my entire life, before or since.Of course, these days, the comparison is way less obvious, being a mere ageing mortal and not a drop of Kudra's perfume in sight....(Thanks for the tips though Julie - will give them both a smell...or start distilling!)

Deena
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Page 74—The Blank Page

Hey, Gabrielle thanks. (And thanks to Michael too.)I have to apologize for skipping to the Kudra arrival page. There were blank pages and i got the numbering wrong. That will happen in two more days i guess. Saw a good Jung quote, "Until we make our unconscious conscious it will direct our lives and we will call it fate."

Dale
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So Robbins has a blank page at 74. I wonder what he meant by that? :-)Ode to the Blank PageChorusThe End

Dale
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Maybe the empties are for our interactive entertainment. Intermission. A place where we can get out our crayons and fill in the blanks before the show resumes.

Mary
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Hey Mary and Gabrielle. Blank minds think alike. Which is to say--very creatively. While I was just sitting there non-thinking it was a Zen moment youse (proper plural of you) came up with wonderful possibilities. I also suspect that those blank pages might be when Robbins decided to skip out and play volleyball. : -)

Dale
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On consideration of the blank page:An item of all possibility- --the blank page could become:*a pause to culminate the moment after the last read word [Will you linger over the blank page, letting its infinite possibilities wash over you or, like a greedy piglet searching for something to suck, whisk pat the blank page hungering for more words to read?]*jottings from someone that turn into a poem or novel in the future*a canvas for the artist's interpretation of what was just read
*a blotter to catch a tearso many possibilities a blank pageor maybe that's all it isjust a blank page

Gabrielle
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What a beautiful and inspiring post, Gabrielle. Can you imagine happening upon a Robbins book left by a stranger in some unexpected place...you begin to read, believing as you do in "meant to be," searching for the cryptic message, the word, then discovering a sketch, a drawing or a poem written on a blank page, seemingly just for you? What a gift that would be. Not merely a random act of kindness, but of mystery and delight as well.

Mary
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I haven't made use of the blank pages within the book, but I have a (mostly frowned-upon) tendency to use the blank end pages for notes: writing down the words I encounter and need to look up (fewer of those as I get older), notable quotes from the author (and upon which page they could be Found again when needed), little doodles and sketches. Only if the book is mine, though- don't worry! Actually, I haven't done that in a very long time. I miss it.

Chrome Toaster
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Page 76

Ok so NOW, Kudra has arrived. (Hey she looks like Deena!)Alobar suffers what will become famous on Seinfeld as "shrinkage".Was Alobar's attempt to get Kudra to eat a beet, a variation on the apple-eating incident in Christian mythology? Or was it a pomegranate?If we were to cast Alobar, Kudra, Priscilla, V'Lu, Marcel or Pan in a Shakespeare play what parts would they play. I wonder what Alobar was doing all that time between when he met Pan and then started working in a llamasery? Were those his missing years?If you made a jukebox out of beets would it be a mangel-wurlizter? I have totally forgotten the plot of this book. I’m excited to be rereading it.
Dale
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Page 77

Burn baby burn--even if you don't want to.I find it significant that the most violent scene I've read by Tom Robbins is a description of a religious ceremony (and we read it on a Sunday, a Sunday, a Sunday, and that makes it the best) in which a woman is burned to death on her husband's funeral pyre. I guess a lot of women immolate themselves metaphorically in funereal marriages, or at least look at their husbands and do a slow burn. But actual murder in the name of religion still lives with us today. Honor killings and maimings plague many of the worlds' women. Some women haven't come a long way baby at all--and mostly thanks to men and the religions they keep.And that's the Sunday sermon.As Fark says, "Can't we all just hit a bong?"

Dale
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Amen and thank you, sir. You are an enlightened one. For added ambiance to page 77, may I suggest Leonard Cohen's "Joan of Arc"? "It was deep into his fiery heartHe took the dust of Joan of Arc,And then she clearly understoodIf he was fire, oh then she must be wood.I saw her wince, I saw her cry,I saw the glory in her eye.Myself I long for love and light,But must it come so cruel, and oh so bright?" Here's a YouTube link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94f2exI6yF4 Happy Solstice, one and all--the end of the long dark, both metaphorical and actual.

Mary
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Well spoken Dale...I just finished reading, "God is Not Great", a very disturbing book.....but, should be read by everyone. Thanks for the Sunday sermon....JimYou're nobody until somebody bites you........"The glass that is half empty coexists with the glass that is half full."

Lordchesterfield [James Reed]
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At risk of adding fuel to the pyre...A fabulous book I once read about various aspects of feminine Indian culture, both past and present, is called, "May You Be the Mother of One Hundred Sons". One of the chapters describes in detail the practice as well as the religious and economic justifications behindHindu sati ritual -- the Hindu custom of burning a man's living wife on the funeral pyre along with him following his death. A horrific custom -- particularly to us Westerners, I know, (especially when one learns how sati ritual has been justified down through the ages in Hindu cultures for religious and economicreasons). But, this amazing book also goes on to describe the astonishing evolution of women in Indian society.Isn't it fascinating to consider how so many cultures that have been so horrifically repressive to women have also spawned some of the strongest feminist leaders (e.g., Indira Gandhi, Benazir Bhutto, etc.) the world has known? Part of this phenomenon can, no doubt, be attributed to strong cultural traditions/tendencies for these cultures to pass down leadership to familial heirs -- particularly when martyrdom has squelched the fathers, husbands, and brothers of the female leaders who have subsequently come to power afterwords. But, I also believe that, in general, women (and men for that matter) who are strong and brave enough to rise above horrific repression cannot be stopped from greatness. It's like trying to stop a rocket ship in mid orbit once the fuel has been lit.Kinda like those of us women who have climbed, fallen, crawled, fallen again, crawled again, fallen again, and then climbed again on our way out of abusive relationships. Those of us women who have then gone on to not only liberate ourselves but also to help other repressed womenfind their way out of similar chains. Once enchained, some of those chains may never leave us, but neither does our desire or ability to break them and continue soaring. Some of us have even been lucky enough and strong enough and wise enough to trust without fear again. To create a healthier, freer love that enriches both parties. To learn how to create loving partnerships with men who will work with us to create a lasting harmony that is free from repression. These days, I prefer to hum, "C'mon baby light my fire and c'mon baby let me light yours" in my current (and hopefully last) partnership with a man. I am extremely lucky to have found a partner who shares this kind of exchange with me (and in so many important ways). But, it took heating up my internal fire to a high enough and steady enough level to hang on to my connection to myself so that I won't let a man (or my own fears and apprehensions) enchain me again. So that I can honor myself, him, and our relationship enough to not allow repression to enter into the equation. And to be wise and giving enough and respectful enough of his needs and strengths and weaknesses to keep myself from enchaining him as well. It also took finding a man who iswise enough, giving enough, respectful enough, experienced enough, kind enough, and who hates repression and conflict with me enough because of his love and respect for me to make strong efforts at working with me to maintain and build a lasting and deep and hilariousharmony between us. Yes, it took a lot of luck to get here. But it also took a lot of trial and tribulation to get here too. (Don't even get me started about my frightful ups and downs with all those online datingexperiences, all those self-help books and shrinks, self-imposed loneliness, and flat-out disappointments!) But, one thing I'm sure of: All this was necessary for me, at least, to get here. Sometimes, it seems, that others are just lucky and don't have to go through all of the trial, tribulation, and difficulty to find relational harmony that I did. Why this us so, I can't tell you. Karma? Maybe. Maybe in another incarnation I was Hindu and escaped sati by inviting my identical twin sister to my house on the day my husband died, drugging her, and jumping out the window and fleeing toher house just as my husband's brothers came knocking at my door to drag me away to the funeral pyre. Maybe the unjust difficulties I endured in my past marriage, and the fact that I had to leave my lovely home and children with them hating me for a while until they grew up enough to love me again were the price I had to pay for a past unjust and unthinkable sin in another lifetime. Sometimes I think that all the pain I went through must have been justified by such a crime. What else could possibly make sense?Tom Robbins has helped me a lot in my journeys and still does. His wisdom and humor about the give and take of healthy personal relationships. His wisdom and humor about rising above misfortune and handicap. His wisdom and humor about rising above repression. His wisdom and humor about the importance of becoming happy and wise by experiencing and becoming comfortable with the "romance of solitude". His wisdom and humor about finding joy in spite of everything. His wisdom and humor about the importance (and necessity) of leaving loveless, repressive relationships behind and believing that you deserve better and that you will find it. His wisdom and humor about the paralyzing effects and silliness and futility of feeling sorry foroneself. His wisdom and humor about taking RISKS in the face of CHANGE. His books, I believe, can change the course of one's life, but I also believe his books they can change a person's karma as well. I believe they have given me sound, helpful, and loving guidance in changing mine. Plus, more than a little crazy wisdom to boot.

May your karma be merry and bright,
Journey
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Shorter Journey: Empowerment in spite of everything? :-)More empower to you.I guess enlightenment requires the right match or perhaps a spark.

Dale
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I'm sorry, Journey, I didn't realize how ambiguous my remark "Shorter Journey;" was. The "shorter" part is one of those internetisms that means a summary is to follow. And then mixed with Journey/journey it indeed looked like I was suggesting a "shorter journey", but I was just summarizing what you wrote as "Empowerment in spite of everything" not suggesting that a shorter journey was available. Ah, words, what're you gonna do with 'em!

Dale
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Journey, thank you for sharing your very insightful thoughts and your experiences with us, the kind of things you have shares and the enlightenment resulting from it will resonate with many I am sure. I also think you are so right that it's about finding balance, that when you get out of one relationship that was overbalanced on the oppression with one partner, that you then don't do that in turn to someone else who has a very different personality.I believe we are here to learn and be shaped by our experiences, which is what karma is all about, and the way we do that is through our relationships with other people. What you've been through and the choice you had to make has surely earned you bucket loads of karma points.TR has wisdom that percolates throughout all of those experiences, he touches on those truths, his insights are so valuable on so many things and I think that's why so many of us just have such a deep affinity for his writing and such a deep admiration for him.Like the love is the ultimate outlaw quote - I once tried to share that with my ex-husband. He absolutely hated it. To him, it expressed much of what was wrong with our relationship. It did to me too, but obviously from the other perspective.I am stating the obvious here but I think TR's biggest messages are that we are here to go through stuff, and so go through stuff we will - but it's how we deal with it that makes all the difference - ARA's philosophy of dancing in the rain or allowing yourself and your light to be doused by it. So to look for the joy in everything.

Julie xox
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No shorter journey for me I'm afraid, Dale. I'm very convinced that ashorter journey just wasn't in the cards for me for a lot of reasonstoo numerous and private for me to mention. I'm just so very thankfulthe stormy parts didn't go on any longer for me than they did!My formula for keeping the light burning?:The right match, a spark, a determination and wizened skills neededkeep the light alive in spite of stormy weather, and an absence ofill-fated hurricanes to be sure. TR content: "Lighten up!" of course.

Journey
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No worries or apologies needed, Dale. What a sweet man you are in somany ways! I was not upset by your comment at all. Just felt a need toclarify with a bit more precision to enhance understanding. Plus yourwords challenged me to add a few insights of my own to youralready-astute punster-vations. But, I must admit that youroften-astonishing punster-isms often leave me searching for and thengrinning about your double meanings. You sometimes remind me of myfather who had such a hilarious, wise, and wonderful gift fordouble-speech. I can relate to your frustrations about the ambiguity of words. As along-time technical communicator who strives to "write short" in mywork with every word I craft, I am so often accused of using "too muchdetail" in my writing. So, I often find myself damned if I use toomuch detail and damned if I don't. (Like how do you leave out detailsfor people controlling the electronics for a nuclear submarine while"keeping things short"?) We are so pushed toward brevity in ourfast-paced, e-mail-information- bombarded world, aren't we? It's ashame in many ways I think. Just consider the glorious detail andgorgeous script that people used to compose with pen and quill whensending letters to each other in days gone by. And then they'd tiethem to the leg of a carrier pigeon and send them on their way. Allthat miraculousness and romanticism seems next to lost with respect toletter writing today.How much we learn from each other (let alone TR) on this amazing listof yours, sir! For example, take TR's quote near the bottom of Pg. 264:"The moon is the original mirror. The first to refuse to distort CHOICE."How many knights have been moved by the moon's reflection to travellong distances to reunite with their ladies?How many generals have been moved by the moon's reflection to stop wars?How many kings and queens have been moved by the moon's reflection tohelp the poor?I wonder.

Journey
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Bon Journey, I'm glad we are clear (as the moon) about the length of journeys. I never like to miss understanding. But you always give good answer, even if the question is questionable. You always show up with belles lettres on. I agree with you that this is a fine wine of a list.

Dale, who is sweet in some ways, but not always. :-)
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Well, Dale, you can bet that it wouldn't have gotten done in sevendays if TR had had anything to do with it. He'd be incessantlysketching and re-sketching things out on those little, lined kiddiepads of paper of his, agonizing over every detail of every molecule ofeverything -- trying to get it all absolutely perfect. We'd STILL bewaiting for Africa, Greenland, and Ohio to be designed (well, maybenot Ohio). Not to mention good wines, Belgian chocolates, and orgasms.
No, Dale, I get too impatient just waiting for TR to come out with newbooks. I can't even BEGIN to imagine waiting for him to design theuniverse.

As my dear, ol' Tennessee-born grandpa used to say, "I'd be older thanthe back of God's head by the time that happened!"

Journey

Read More......

Jitterbug Perfume, Week 10, Daffy Yum

JITTERBUG PERFUME
Week 10, Dec. 7 – Dec. 14

Page 63

Dale wrote:

I love when Tom turns a phrase. On this page, "poorer of some hopes, but freer of some illusions" gave me a shiver. When he's "on". He can make a phrase tell you your own life story. Guess that's why I’m a fan. What did y'all like about this page?

Dale

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Oh...this is great. Two birds (one in the hand, one in the bush) with one stone. First, the band--the Translucent Cherub Sperms or possibly the Midnight Blue Syrups. (P. 63, JP).

Dale, you ask what we like about page 63. The entire first full paragraph sets my whiskers to vibrating. TR describes the scentsation (heh) when Madam Devalier maneuvers "her midget submarine of a nose along dockside of the concentration crock...washing her in star waters...." TR's descriptive powers fly high and at full throttle in this paragraph.

Also, two catlings have come to live with me in the past week. (I know...cats. ) Upon entering for the first time, the sleek, black panther went directly to my desk and laid down on my JP reading copy, thereby earning the name Kudra. (Obviously a cat with exquisite literary taste.) She has not taken heed of any other tome, but apparently wanted to mark JP as her own--I came home today to find that half the pages have tiny pinpricks in the upper right hand corner from her tiny needle fangs. Thankfully, she did not actually tear pages or render words unreadable. All of this is to ask any linguistic cat people among you (I'm not really one yet) if you've notice that Vlu's speech sounds eerily like Early American lol- cat speak ( e.g.: "Ah not talking 'bout no sleep...Ah be talking 'bout vegables...vegables flying in through dee winda and landing on mah bed."). Was TR the forefather of lol-cat speak? =^..^=

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Christa Rose wrote:

"Bingo Pajama smell nice"

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Denise wrote:

The description of Papa's fat method has always stuck with me. I hadn't ever considered that the fragrance had to be extracted from its organic source, or how one could go about doing that.

That and the midget submarine of a nose...

Denise

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Dale wrote:

I like to get everyone's reactions to the reading. Sometimes things are pointed out to me that I didn't notice or isolate in their beauty. like this smell nice quote or even the midnight blue syrups paragraph really. Then i look back and slap myself upside the head for obtuseness. :-)
thanks y'all
Dale

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Page 64

Dale wrote:

After reading Tom talking about "the lewd breath of Louisiana,” I saw this report:
A new report called America’s Health Rankings considered factors such as binge drinking, immunization rates, pollution, and disease to determine the healthiest and unhealthiest states in America. The winners: Vermont, Hawaii, New Hampshire, Minnesota, and Utah. The bottom five included Texas, Tennessee, South Carolina, Mississippi, and —in dead last—Louisiana.

Dale

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Page 65

Dale wrote:

Does anyone remember who was leaving the beets in Paris, Seattle and New Orleans?

Dale

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Jeanne wrote:

I thought it was Pan

Jeanne

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Chrome Toaster wrote:

Pretty sure you're right, Jeanne, because there was a cloying aroma in the hallway when Priscilla found her beet. By that time, though, wasn't Pan pretty much invisible. (Was this a trick question?)

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Deena wrote:

I thought it was Bingo Pajama...? The 'cloying aroma' being his jasmine?

Read More......

Jitterbug Perfume, Week 8, Daffy Yum

Week 8, Nov. 23–29

Page 50

Deena wrote:

Ahh, I love Pan's entrance (pun totally intentional) . Ok, if it were a film, who in the big round world would play Pan?

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Dale wrote:

I gotta go with Robert Downey Jr as Pan. What do you think of Kiefer Sutherland as the troubled Alobar?

Dale

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Michael wrote:

hey Deena...we've bounced this around in the past.....and i'll maintain...Jack Nicholson as Pan
Long Live de Moon!!!

Michael


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Mary wrote:

How could we not go with Johnny Depp? His impish good looks, playful panache, nimble hooves...feet... and lusty satyr style just cries out--Pan! Can you see him in the deepest, most serene forest, lounging against a boulder covered by a thick carpet of moss near a tumbling stream where water nymphs play, fern fronds brushing his withers in time to the haunting notes that wafting from his pipes?


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Julie H wrote:

I also thought of Robert Downey Junior - still think I'd give the manic edge to either Robin or Jack though.

Johnny Depp could probably do something Pandemically Cool too, who knows what kind of persona he would come up with?

Otherwise someone a little less known.

I guess Kiefer could do Alobar if you made him dark, but to me Alobar is very dark and brooding. He needs to look Turkish or Greek...

Julie

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Julie H wrote:

I can't really think of any young contenders for Pan - but I guess he is ancient so it's okay, although he can't look too old. But I reckon either of these guys could Jitterbug it:

Jack Nicholson
Robin Williams

Those are my nominations so far.

Julie

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Gabrielle Elliot wrote:

Omar Sharif...Clint Eastwood...Sean Connery...depends on the accent you're casting, since Pan's a Greek, Omar's best placed since he speaks the proper lingo.

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Bob Nesheim wrote:

I nominate Sean Connery to play the role of Alobar. For his younger
days use Daniel Craig.

BoB

smoked up a bag of LSD tranquilizer.

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James Keenan wrote:


Connery was the one I thought of the first time read the book years ago.

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Audrey Farber wrote:

Ahh, I love Pan's entrance (pun totally intentional) . Ok, if it were a film, who in the big round world would play Pan?

How’s about Samuel L. Jackson?

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Chrome Toaster wrote:

For some reason I've always pictured Pan looking like a young Mickey Rourke.. Or Benicio Del Toro. Johnny Depp is almost too pretty. (Although he "uglies up" really nicely- like Captain Jack)

Jack Nicholsen would only work (for me) if it was Jack Nicholsen circa One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

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Read More......

Hearing and Looking

What I'm listening to: The Santa Ana winds are blasting and I've cracked my window just enough for the wind to play it like Satchmo on a strange trumpet. The variety of sounds is fascinating from howling to whistling to shaking the windows.

Here's some self-referential art I found:

Read More......

Jitterbug Perfume, Week 5

JITTERBUG PERFUME
Week 5

Note: There were no Daffy Yum comments this week, presumably due to great joy and celebrations throughout the land for the election of Barak Obama as our President. A collective sigh of relief coupled with immense hope blankets the world. ~MW

Read More......

Jitterbug Perfume, Week 4, Daffy Yum

"Beets, resembling the hearts of gnomes, were piled in the storage cellars."

JITTERBUG PERFUME
Week 4

Page 24

Michael wrote:

"....but I am seized with the desire to be something more. Something whose echo can drown out the rattle of death.
......This man before you is part of the community, the race, and the species, yet is somehow separate from them....
..I cannot tolerate the passive obliteration of all that I am to myself...... These limbs, this trunk, the heart that drums, they urge me, against all my training, to prevail over submission to the
collective destiny"
i apologize i'm a day late(pg.24). ...but this just stirs something... .DEEEEEEEEEEEP. Can you feel it?

Michael

***********************************************************************
Fwhague wrote:

Not to worry, Michael.

One thing we have finally discerned is that information cannot disappear from our universe. After many years, even Hawking admitted he was wrong in thinking that it could. So, forget obliteration. And, the stomach butterflies prior to a transition are nothing more than music (what the hell is that?) perceived in utero.

Our guy TR is quite the wordsmith, though, isn't he?

Frank
_______________________________________________________________________

Page 26

Weality wrote:

"I think that I am seeking something... ...What I seek never was, not on land or sea"
go Alobar!
...."the king set upon his harem like a starving rat let loose in a peach barrel."
go Alobar!
_______________________________________________________________________

Page 27

Mary wrote:

“Days grew shorter. The citadel was hidden by morning fogs. Beets, resembling the hearts of gnomes, were piled in the storage cellars. Ducks lined up to buy their tickets to southern swamps. Mead was jugged. Blades and leathers oiled. Wolves made clouds when they sang at night. Maybe that was where the fogs came from. Everywhere there were sounds of husks cracking, virgins dancing, the rush of bees on last-minute shopping sprees, the roar of altars ablaze with some sacrifice.”

Walking through Seattle’s foggy October streets tonight, I breathe the songs of wolves.

Mary
_______________________________________________________________________

Page 28

Weality wrote:

"Dotted with cow pies and large stones. The stones had been arranged geometrically in patterns that were supposed to mean something to the gods. Presumably, the cow pies had fallen at random, although then, as now, the division between what is random in nature and what is
purposeful is extremely difficult to determine" pg 28 JP could it be that ~existence could be rearranged~ by a change of perspective or a simple 'eye game'? who's to say, that given their various herbal diet,cows aren't laying their monuments in a varied geometry pleasing to the gods as well?
wahooooooo

***********************************************************************
Jeanne Moore wrote:

Nature as a paradox, both random and purposeful.. . I really love this book.

Jeanne

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Week 3, Jitterbug Perfume, Daffy Yum

Page 14-16

Weality wrote:

My JP pages 14-16 are blank......silence.......kinda reminds me of "a mirror,so faithful and yet so unexpected, is the reflection it can throw back at men that they will go to almost any length to avoid seeing themselves in it, and if its duplicating surface is temporarily wiped clean of modern life's ubiquitous hubbub, they will hasten to fog it over with such desperate personal noise devices as polite conversation, humming, whistling, imaginary dialogue, schizophrenic babble, or, should it come to that, the clandestine
cannonry of their own farting".........pg 234 of FIHFHC :)
_____________________________________________________________________________

Page 17

Carolfly wrote:

"In those days the Earth was still flat, and people dreamed often of falling over edges."

True or not, it makes me wonder what misconceptions currently guide our dreams.
_____________________________________________________________________________

Page 18

Riddleydeena wrote:

Wren, Frol, Alobar, Noog (V'lu, Bingo Pajama, Kudra)...it’s a name banquet! Wish I'd had six children (instead of none) to name. Once, at a book signing in London, I asked TR where the name Kudra came from. He said she had simply turned up for the audition :-)

Beet-juice stained Deena

***************************************************************************
Dale wrote:

:-) Love it, Deena! Magic animism. Even his imaginary characters are alive. He must have one helluva casting couch.

You know I always figured Kudra was an Indian goddess or something, but I guess not. Does anyone know if it has mythic meaning (beyond Jitterbug Perfume, of course.)?

Dale

___________________________________________________________________________

Page 20

Weality wrote:

"Himself? Self? What did that mean?" AHHH....does Mr. Robbins get anymore direct and existential than that? Have we past this way and addressed this most burning question?
I loves that Jitterbug Perfume.......

Dale Wrote:

Can I has me some Jitterbug Perfume? I laughed at the "Self" remark too. And have often wondered what that is.
Dale

****************************************************************************
Jeanne Moore wrote

Well...I wonder if anyone at all in Alobar's present time ever pondered the true meaning of 'self', that sometimes elusive being that lives beneath our own skin.

Jeanne

****************************************************************************
Micchaelmcmaham wrote:

".I wonder if anyone at all in Alobar's present time ever pondered"... ....certainly the communal, pod, group, collective conscience was stronger than today,
still, the individual has probably always wondered ...'why me?'....especially in those 'negatives'. ..why did the bear eat my Mom?...why did our neighbors take our corn?
Why’d that coconut fall on my head?
_____________________________________________________________________________

Page 21

"Even in his agitated mood, he could admire this walking flower of intelligent pink, this industry of honey and brine." Ahhhhhhh.... he makes me feel so good about being female.

Jeanne

****************************************************************************
Michaelmcmaham wrote:

....this industry of honey and brine.

All praise to her in whom such a broad spectrum of flavors exist, a land where there's no lack of biodiversity!!

*****************************************************************************

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Jitterbug Perfume, Week 2, Daffy Yum

JITTERBUG PERFUME
WEEK 2


Jitterbug Perfume, Page 8

carolfly@yahoo.com" carolfly@yahoo.com wrote:

“She plopped down her pumpkin patch, her Spanish ballroom, her pagan idol of a body on a lime velvet loveseat." - JP p.8

Oh, I cannot get over this description. Got me wondering how I might describe other people or myself.

Since I'm feeling skinny today I'll go with:
She set down her Tootsie Pop, her psych ward, her toy soldier of a body...

Man, this writing thing is even harder than it looks. Anybody want to share?

- Carol
******************************************************************************
Lynn Cantrell wrote:

what? and who are you?

carolfly@yahoo.com" carolfly@yahoo.com wrote:

Wait a minute... I thought that was my question...
******************************************************************************
Deena B. Omar wrote:

I love the character intros, imagery and general vibe in this bit, but above all it's the lime velvet love seat, that gets me every time...
Deena
******************************************************************************
carolfly@yahoo.com" carolfly@yahoo.com wrote:

It's funny -- I hadn't seen your post when I sent mine. We seem to like two halves of the same image. I like the butt, you like the couch!

- Carol

Deena B. Omar wrote:

a satisfying symmetry there in our likes, Carol...the butt and the couch; sounds like two more characters in another TR story...

Deena
*****************************************************************************

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Jitterbug Perfume, Week 1, Daffy Yum

Jitterbug Perfume, Day 1, Page 1, 10/6/08

Mangel-wurzel! I just noticed in this ode to the beet a mention of a "ceramic asshole" which reminded me of the Japanese doctor in Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas. Can you imagine the kickass non-fiction Robbins could write?
Dale

If Robbins had a dinner party, I suspect that the conversation Robbins had with the veggies as he cooked in the kitchen would be as scintillating as the conversation in the parlor with the guests.
Dale
*************************************************************************************

MaryW witt8199@yahoo.com wrote:

Today, B is for Beet.

Kick-ass, indeed! We need only read his non-fiction magazine pieces, especially those included in Wild Ducks Flying Backward, for a taste of what an entire non-fiction book from Mr. Robbins would be. The man does have a way with facts--do you remember the exact rectal temperature of a hummingbird (104.9)? It's one fact I'll never forget. We can only imagine how grades would soar if he wrote textbooks. I mean, consider the excitement stirred up (and out) in an assignment from a culinary textbook for aspiring chefs. Especially the chapter on beets.

TR has a way of making the forgettable memorable and not merely memorable, but...well, vivid.

By the way, I came across a great 2001 interview, Fierce Individualist in a Wet Climate, by Robert Sheer and Joseph Roberts, taken before the Prophets Conference of Scientists, Healers, Poets and Mystics in Victoria, BC. If you haven't already seen it, it's well worth a read: http://www.p45. net/boards/ archive/index. php/t-15378. html

With beeting heart, I remain~
Mary
*************************************************************************************
Iris I wrote:

Mary,
That was a great article! Which other author would use "philosophical mastication" in a sentence?
Iris
*************************************************************************************
Zach Solomon seriouspolitics@gmail.com wrote:

Oh the puns! The puns!

My my, what pun!
*************************************************************************************
Dale Kirby da5e@yahoo.com wrote:

:-) Tom's logorrhea is a case of the puns. I'm glad he doesn't have a potty mouth.
Dale
*************************************************************************************
"michael mcmahan" wrote:

....not so sure 'bout that......one of my favorite 'potty phrases' comes from Switters...
as he described a South American river....."It was the color of cigar tobacco, it smelled like the butt of a cheap cheroot, and every now and then an actual cigar-like entity would break the oily sheen of its surface to glide among the citrus rinds, plastic cartons, and Inca cola cans that dotted the waters. These small torpedoes were, of course, were neither waterlogged double coronas jettisoned by a listing Cuban freighter
nor a species of blind Amazonian trout but, rather, a sampling of the ocherous projectiles fired into the river night and day from the fundaments of Pucallpa.
'A regular turd de force’, muttered Switters....."
*************************************************************************************
"carolfly" wrote:

Today's Special
Well, isn't it just? I happened back on this group recently, and am
delighted to have company in re-reading one of my favorite books. It
seems to require reading at this pace for me to have ever noticed
that, well,
Today's Special.
Thanks, guys.
- Carol
*************************************************************************************
Dale Kirby da5e@yahoo.com wrote:

Welcome back, Carol. Tom writes with a slow hand and an easy touch.
Dale
*************************************************************************************
MaryW witt8199@yahoo.com wrote:

If you close your eyes, you can almost hear him warbling sweet refrains as he slices, dices and chops. Perhaps a sweet refrain of Your Beeting Heart? Every Beet of My Heart? Love is Just a Heartbeet Away. Nervous Heartbeet?

Mary
*************************************************************************************
"julie h" julieh312@yahoo.com wrote:

I think it's more likely a rousing chorus of '...and the beet goes on.'
Without going back and looking, I can't remember now which paperback edition you thought most people would be reading from and which country was likely to have what. I am in South Africa and my copy of Jitterbug is very old. I can't remember if I bought it new or second hand or if someone lent it to me (!) but it's a Bantam Rack-size edition 1985.
Will be interesting to see if there are differences. And so we are into the tale that begins with the beet and shall end up, we hope, being both devilishly entertaining and enlightening. Whatever it is, it's a risk I am happy to be taking with you all.
Julie
xoxo
*************************************************************************************
Dale Kirby da5e@yahoo.com wrote:

Hi Julie,
It would be interesting to see if there differences in the South African edition of Jitterbug Perfume. We can be on the same page without being on the same page.
Dale
*************************************************************************************
Jitterbug Perfume, Page 2, 10/7/08

Hi Julie. Ha! The Beet Goes On is perfect. Maybe one of the tech-savvy afterlifers can do a soundtrack for Jitterbug Perfume for our reading pleasure. :~)
I like the idea that we're reading from different editions and across time zones. Blurring pages and fogging time fits perfectly with Jitterbug Perfume. No hard edges or rigid rules, just flowing from one page to the next, blending lines and ideas, creating little points of afTRlife light here and there across the globe. We'll create our own kind of beet-scented space-time warp, sprinkling Robbins's pollen dust across the universe.
Mary
*************************************************************************************
Jitterbug Perfume, Page 3, 10/8/08

Dale Kirby da5e@yahoo.com wrote:

So we meet Priscilla, one of Tom's genius waitresses. Doesn't she show up in another of his novels? Maybe Skinny Legs? This page reminds me that everything in a Tom Robbins novel is alive. And it's brought alive by brilliant metaphor. "Every toilet bowl gurgled like an Italian tenor with a mouthful of Lavoris..."And every sense is engaged.

Dale
*************************************************************************************
Jitterbug Perfume, Page 4, 10/9/08

MaryW witt8199@yahoo.com wrote:

Poor Priscilla. Oh, de agony of de feet as she watches rollaway inflation silver- streak across the tattered floor. It's a mad dash and things are looking grim(ey) for our weary waitress wincing at the memory of an intimate incident with Rikki in the washroom.
Who among us cannot relate? :~)
Mary
*************************************************************************************
Jitterbug Perfume, Page 7, 10/12/08

MaryW witt8199@yahoo.com wrote:

Oh, those New Orleans hurricane drops, pirouetting petals and Jamaican jasmine boof. What a heady scent wafts from the burbling brew. This is the city where morning comes gliding in the arms of the sun, not dragged in by the too-eager hands of the clock.

Mary
************************************************************************************
"Deena Omar" deena.omar@tower.ac.uk wrote:

I love the character intros, imagery and general vibe in this bit, but above all it's the lime velvet love seat that gets me every time...
Deena

Deena B Omar

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The Debate

by Michael

Watching the debate last nite, I’m not sure that Salome’s third veil didn’t drop for me……

“She understood suddenly, and for no particular reason of which she was aware, that it was futile to work for political solutions to humanity's problems because humanity's problems were not political. Political problems did exist, all right, but they were entirely secondary. The primary problems were solved the political problems would have to be solved over and over and over again. The phrase, "vicious circle" was coined to describe the ephemeral effectiveness of almost all political activity.

For ethical, political activism was seductive because it seemed to offer the possibility that one could improve society, make things better, without going through the personal ordeal of rearranging one’s perceptions and transforming one's self. For the unconscionable, political reactivism was seductive because it seemed to protect one's holdings and legitimize one's greed. But both sides were gazing through a kerchief of illusion.

The monkey wrench in the progressive machinery of primate evolution was the propensity of the primate band to take its political leaders - it s dominant males = too seriously. Of benefit tot he band only when it was actively threatened by predators, the dominant male (or political boss) was almost wholly self-serving and was naturally dedicated not to liberation but to control. Behind his chest-banging and fang display, he was largely a joke and could be kept in his place (his place being that of a necessary evil) by disrespect and laughter. If, for example, when Hitler stood up to rant in the beer halls of Munich, the good drinkers had taken him more lightly, had they , instead of buying his act, snickered and hooted and pelted him with sausage skins, the Holocaust might have been avoided.

Of course, as long as there were willing followers, there would be exploitive leaders. And there would be willing followers until humanity reached that philosophical plateau where it recognized that its great mission in life had nothing to do with any struggle between classes, races, nations, or ideologies, but was, rather, a personal quest to enlarge the soul, liberate the spirit, and light up the brain. On that quest, politics was simply a road block of stentorian baboons.” SLAA

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Daffy Yum Comment Thread

Please attach all Jitterbug Perfume comments to this post?

Thanks.
Dale

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What is Daffy Yum?

There's a Jewish tradition (I'm no scholar so I might be getting it
all wrong) called Daf Yomi (sounds like a TR term) in which a person
studies one page of the Talmud each day for 7.5 years.

I'm reading one page of Tom Robbins' work chronologically each day for the 8 or 9 years that it will take to go through the one's he has written and the ones he will hopefully write during that time. I wouldn't say I'm studying them, but reading them mindfully with an open heart.

I call this ritual Daffy Yum.

I'll comment here or on the list whenever something strikes me. Anyone
want to join me?

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Culture Wars

Not plucky, lucky. The new Rolling Stone has a profile of John McCain that makes him sound a lot like Plucky Purcell without the humor, morality and sense of honor.

Quickies. "The number of `fleeting' penises we expect to see on broadcast television is zero." a right-wing television watchdog group said, after an accidental flash happened on a reality show.

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Daffy Yum - Day 0

An AftrWord on Still Life with Woodpecker:

Tom asks the immortal question: How do you make love stay? I think I've finally figured it out. The answer is:

Don't make love do all the work.

Tom's concept of Joy in spite of everything is great, but in love, we should use Jeff the Troll's formulation "because of everything". Love because of everything. We shouldn't require our partners to love us in spite of ourselves. We should do all we can to protect love from avoidable stresses. It can handle the problems that arise from outside, but it can't always survive the stresses that result from (Tom's other big concept) CHOICE. Choose to love with the way you live. Then maybe love will stay.

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Daffy Yum - Famous Last Words

Today we're reading the last page of Still Life with Woodpecker. The famous line "It's never too late to have a happy childhood" caps a reading experience that has penetrated the language and thoughts of millions. That's probably his most often ripped-off line. Google it and you'll find dozens of writers claiming it or at least not attributing it properly.

Tomorrow is a day of rest for sore eyes after the grueling one page per day marathon we've been through. Then Monday October 6,2008 we'll be starting Jitterbug Perfume or as I've seen it called, Panaroma.

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TR's Jitterbug Perfume and DB Houston's King of the Midnight Blue, goes down easy with Tecate, Salt & Lemon

TR's Jitterbug Perfume and DB Houston's King of the Midnight Blue, goes down easy with Tecate, Salt & Lemon, originally uploaded by MaryWit.

These things most bring to mind the long and deep friendship of Tom Robbins and Darrell Bob Houston. They always looked forward to again sharing Tecate, salt and lemons when they hadn't seen each other for awhile. When TR drove his little VW bug straight through to LA to bring DB back to Seattle during a particutlarly hard time in DB's life, TR appeared unannounced at DB's desk at the LA Times holding a sunflower as big as DB's head.

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Tom Robbins Day

International Tom Robbins Day, originally uploaded by MaryWit.

Around the world, people called in well to honor the esteemed and irrepressableTom Robbins in celebration his birthday.

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Just another old hippy

I was looking at the new 42 cent stamp today and I realized that George Washington would fit right in on Malibu Beach. He's just another old hippy with a greying pony-tail.

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Daffy Yum, P. 131, SLWW

Lusty Lady, Chronicals of Nudia, originally uploaded by MaryWit.

As Ellen-Cheri made her rain-soaked way down Seattle's First Avenue, passing bars and pawnshops, she surely passed the Lusty Lady, long said to be woman-owned. The marquis changes often, and always with Robbinsesque style, wit and flair. It's always a little goosepimply to stand with a camera pointed at the establishment, so my pictures are often taken on the run. ;~)

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Playing The Race Car

I was riding my motorized beer cooler around the NASCAR infield the other day and I thought, since God uses natural disasters to nudge our gay brothers and sisters toward righteousness, they should schedule gay pride marches at mega-churches throughout the country and pray for guidance. Let God cancel the marches for them in His own clever way and they don't have to make the trip.

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Cowgirls, the Play

Book-It Repertory Theatre's new-season lineup
"Book-It Repertory Theatre's new-season lineup
Seattle Times Wed, 30 Apr 2008 0:25 AM PDT
'Even Cowgirls Get the Blues,' the best-seller by Western Washington-based writer Tom Robbins, will get the Book-It Repertory Theatre treatment..."

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Zach Solomon's Thesis on Art

*What is Art and Does It Have a Purpose?*

The question, "What is art?" is at once confounding, thought-provoking, and quite challenging. For certain, art is ubiquitous. It can be profoundly appealing, sensually, spiritually, and intellectually provocative or simply innocuous. Art can be so beautiful and powerful that it move an observer to tears or render one stunned with silence and awe. It can contain all of these qualities at once in the dynamic interplay of thought, emotion and technique. It is for this reason that the word "art" is seemingly impossible to define. Its infinite facets place it among some of the great mysteries of life. But what is *it*? The Encyclopedia Britannica Dictionary defines "art" as such:

"The conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects."

This definition offers no insight as to the quiddity of art. Rather, it explains how one may produce it. This illustrates the problem philosophers and connoisseurs alike have faced in trying to define "art." In this paper I will examine two articles written on the subject: *What is Art?* by Leo Tolstoy and *What is Art, and if We Know What Art is, What is Politics?* by Tom Robbins. After explaining each author's views on the definition and purpose of art I will attempt to show that art is ultimately indefinable, that it paradoxically is fairly easy to discern what is or is not art and that art and aesthetics in general serve no practical purpose on their fundamental level.

Leo Tolstoy, in *What is Art?*, claims that the essence of art is the conveyance of emotion – from the artist to the observer. "Art," he explains, "is a human activity consisting in this, that one man consciously, by means of certain external signs, hands on to others feeling he has lived through, and that other people are infected by these feelings and also experience them." By this Tolstoy means that art is anything hand-made that expresses the feelings and emotions felt by the artist at the time of the piece's conception and/or production. Furthermore, Tolstoy expounds on his definition by describing the activity of art: "To evoke in oneself a feeling one has once experienced, and having evoked it in oneself, then, by means of movements, lines, colors, sounds, or forms expressed in words, so to transmit that feeling that others may experience the same feeling – this is the experience of art." Tolstoy is saying that in order for a piece to be considered art it must communicate the artist's feelings and emotions at the time of the piece's conception and/or production. Therefore a piece is not a *fait accompli* as art until it is perceived by an observer and then ultimately when the observer shares an empathic bond between him/herself and the artist. This is how, Tolstoy explains, it is possible to discern what is or is not art: if the observer of a piece is moved emotionally in the way that was intended by the artist or that is consistent with the artist's emotion then the work may be considered art. If no connection is made then the piece is not art. By this logic, it is fundamentally impossible for most art to introduce us to new ideas, perspectives or phenomena because there is a vast amount of art in which the emotions of the artist are either cryptic or absent altogether. Additionally, his definition leaves out the situations in which an observer of a particular piece of art reacts emotionally in a way that is not consistent with the artist's feelings. Does this mean that the piece is not art if the observer's emotional reaction is different from the artist's emotional reaction? Tolstoy's definition is an extremely limiting one.

Tolstoy additionally theorizes that art in fact does have a purpose, which is to exchange emotions between the artist and the observer. Rather than citing this entirely real phenomenon as merely a byproduct of a piece of art, Tolstoy claims that it is the central, if only, purpose of art. He states, "Art begins when one person, with the object of joining another or others to himself in one and the same feeling, expresses that feeling by certain external indications." Tolstoy goes on to explain how to differentiate good and bad art. One does this by evaluating how effective a particular piece of art is in conveying the emotions of the artist to the onlooker. The stronger the emotional bond, the better the art.

Tom Robbins, in *What is Art, and if We Know What Art is, What is Politics?*, refutes Tolstoy's theory that in order for a piece to be art it must invoke in the observer "a feeling one has *once * (italics mine) experienced" by saying, "…while we are in art's thrall, we're lifted out of mundane contest and granted a temporary visa to a less ordinary dimension, where our existential burden is momentarily lifted and we surf a wave of pure perceptual pleasure." Robbins is stating that art need not invoke within the onlooker a feeling or stimulus previously felt or felt by the artist; rather, good art can transmit ideas, places, perspectives, and even feelings to the observer that he/she has never seen or experienced before. In other words, there is no prerequisite for art. This idea places the defining factor of what makes art *art* in the hands of the artist rather than in the emotional core of the observer.

To answer the initial question of "What is art?", Robbins claims that art is ultimately indefinable and purposeless yet we nevertheless have the capacity to identify what constitutes art. Art, Robbins says, is "a vehicle for the transportation of perceptual (i.e. aesthetic) values." This, he says, is the primary purpose of art – "to evaluate the external phenomena registered by our eyes and ears." He further states, "When the composition that delights, thrills, captivates or challenges our sensory receptors has been created for that very purpose, we call it *art*." This means that when a piece is created with its primary purpose being that it stimulates the onlooker's senses (whether it is the artist or the observer) it becomes art. Contrary to Tolstoy, the transmittance of emotions between the artist and the observer is a byproduct of art, rather than the central purpose of art. Although an emotional reaction may enhance the experience of the observer, according to Robbins, that is a result secondary to the appearance of the piece.

Furthermore, Robbins explains, the conveyance of some form of message or ideal as the primary purpose of a piece renders the piece something other than art. The primary purpose of art must be to be purposeless – to serve no practical purpose other than to excite one's sensory perception. "At the heart of any genuine aesthetic response are sensations that have no rational application, material or psychological, yet somehow manage to enrich our lives." If the primary purpose of a piece is something other than that then it is no longer art. However, a piece which expresses a message or has a point can still be art: "This is not to say that a work of art can't convey other, additional values, values with intellectual and/or emotional heft. However, if it's really art, then those values will play a secondary role…we may praise a piece for its cultural insights, for the progressive statement it makes…but to honor it as 'art' when its aesthetic impact is not its dominant feature is to fall into a philistine trap of shoddy semantics and false emphasis." This means that the central focus of a particular piece of art must be the uselessness of its aesthetics but that if the artist conveys a message or allows the piece to have a point then it must be extrapolated from the immediate visual.

According to Robbins, it has been determined that art is ultimately indefinable and entirely purposeless in a pragmatic sense. However, art manages to improve our lives while having no useful application. This is a remarkable feat. Rather paradoxically, Robbins thinks that the apparent superfluity of art is precisely what makes it essential: "The most useful thing about art is its uselessness….there's a place in our all too pragmatic world for the impractical and the nonessential, and art occupies that place…; occupies it with such authority and with such inspirational if quixotic results that we find ourselves in the contradictory position of having to concede that the non-essential can be very essential, indeed, if for no other reason than that an environment reduced to essentials is a subhuman environment in which only drones will thrive." Robbins' point is that if everything that humans do must have a point then we would live in a very limiting world. Art is the champion of purposeless pleasure; a heroine of romanticism and impracticality. There is an immense spectrum of what our intuition tells us is art and I strongly disagree with the notion that art * must* communicate a message to or invoke a feeling in the observer. An artist knows when he/she has created a work of art when it is completed, not when it is received by observers.

In conclusion, Leo Tolstoy's assertion that art is anything that conveys the artist's emotions to the observer is unconvincing because art is a human production that is evaluated at least at first by sensory perception rather than emotional empathy. In addition, Tolstoy is incorrect when he theorizes that the purpose of art is to convey the artist's feelings. By saying this he is taking aesthetic merit out of the picture altogether – art is no longer about the qualities of its aesthetics but about how effectively the piece communicates the artist's feelings. This is an overly limiting way of appreciating art. It closes one's mind off to new experiences and ideas because, according to Tolstoy, one must have a very particularistic reaction to a work of art – any reaction that does not mirror the artist's reaction is not permitted. Contrary to Tolstoy's point of view, there are innumerable pieces of artwork which do not reveal the artist's emotions, or may not contain the artist's emotions at all. Art has no purpose. As Robbins eloquently states, "Art revitalizes precisely because it *has* no purpose except to engage our senses. The emancipating jounce of inspired uselessness."

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Disparately Seeking Robbins

Between Amazon and Google Books you can search inside almost all of Robbins' novels. You usually just get quotes and snippets, but with Amazon (if you're a member) you can read several pages around your search results.
Another Roadside Attraction - Google Book Search
Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas - Google Book Search
Still Life with Woodpecker - Google Book Search
Jitterbug Perfume - Google Book Search
Skinny Legs and All - Google Book Search
Search: Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas: Tom Robbins: Books
Search Even Cowgirls Get the Blues: Tom Robbins: Books
Search: Jitterbug Perfume: Tom Robbins: Books
Search: Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates
The Jewelry of Ken Cory: Play Disguised - Google Book Search
Search: Tom Robbins: A Critical Companion (Critical Companion...



Dale

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Passwords to Grow By

I ran across a good idea the other day. Use passwords to remind you of things or learn things. Like having a password 'IAM@PEACE". Typing that several times a week sure can't hurt your peace of mind. How would this idea apply to Tom Robbins writing? What kinds of passwords would remind you of your favorite Robbins ideas or quotes?

Maybe just funny ones like ombudugeki or erleichda. Maybe acronyms JISOE for Joy in spite of everything. Or BeUrGuru. Or ZeeWurl.

Seems like this approach would add a few more bubbles to the bubble bath for your heart.

Got any other ideas?


Original article

Dale

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Dr. Tom's Rainy Day(s) Miracle Cure (SLWW, p. 71)

Page 71 of Still Life With Woodpecker holds another essential bit of wisdom to pull out of your rainy day(s) survival kit. Mr. Robbins teaches us how to not only tolerate the rain--but to savor it, dive headfirst into it, jump into (not over) the puddles with both feet and splash around.

Tip: fill your emergency rain survival kit with TR rain quotes such as this one found on page 71:

Actually the rain has many uses. It prevents the blood and the sea from becoming too salty. It administers knock out drops to unruly violets. It manufactures the ladder that neon climbs to the moon. A seeker can go into the Great Northwest rain and bring back the Name he needs.

When you feel yourself starting to go mad with cabin fever after the first few hours/days/weeks/months of rain, remain calm and reach into your survival kit, take out a liberal handful of TR quotes and start reading. Don't stop until you realize that you're hoping that the delightful, soft, wet, sexy rain will never stop.

That's when you know that Dr. Tom's Miracle Cure has come through again. It's powerful stuff and never fails.

Let it rain.

Let it rain.

Let it rain.

~ PEACE ~
Nonconform Freely

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AFTRLIFE Official Self-Epitaph Document

The following is the true list of afTRlife epitaphs, carefully chosen with consideration by and for us and documented herein for posterity at the behest of Our Leader B. D. Dale, and in the name of our Esteemed Master Thomas Robbins as of March 12, 2008.

May we live long and prosper in the afTRlife!

__________________________________________________

Author Epitaph

joybeloo "All you need is love!"

(Joy Borazjani) "Books just want to be free!"

marxmarvelous "Hold my beer and watch this"

pervrtdmnk "I'm trying"

(jdouble)

sandyeggowaffle "That was a long, strange trip!"

dentonboyo "Illegitimi non carborundum"

(Brent Smith)

bbmrchn "The deposed haole prince of Makapu'u"

(Bob Marchioni)

quaabird "We're all god, in different disguises"

julie h

(Julie H) "No regrets. Pass the chocolate."

lordchesterfield "Does this mean no more Scotch?"

(James Reed) "I'm not dead yet. OH, Wait!"

justin_meigs "Right, time for another dream."

cheddaronya "Come on down, join the party"

(Laura Farrelly)

Dale "Okay. Don't got peach pie? Gimme apple."

MaryW "I'm ba a a a ack"

"It was all about pink tights."

audreyfarber "More red wine, less diet soda."

(Audrey Farber)

itsmine "Less work, more play, eh?"

(Susan Griffin)

larvalmouse "Better the flawed angel than the perfect devil"

"Duirt me leat go raibh me breoite"

(Translation provided by Edwin A. Scribner)

Chris Conn "Will get there eventually"

Journey "What about the Big Moan Theory?"

weality "Tippin the scales, toward feather light."

(Michael McMahan)

mcj717 "Neither the judge, jury, nor executioner..."

jmmcakes2006

(Jeanne Moore) "I tried to make it fun."

Christa Rose "Peace, love and rock and roll."

fwhague "Damn the torpedoes!!! ........ No! Wait!"

Lennell "Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt."

"I am here with no regrets."

Zach Solomon "Woah, what the hell just happened?"

Kyle O'Connor "Keep on Keeping on."

yobeemer2175 "Are you going to eat that?"

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Robbins was wrong (sorta kinda) by Dale

Reading page 33 of Still Life with Woodpecker today, the woodpecker grinned, unlike Jesus who wept. He's gotten to Hawaii without being caught (back in the good old pre-9/11 airport security days.) This page and the book in general talks of pending momentous happenings in the last quarter of the century. But much more momentous things have happened the first quarter of this century. Bad things like 9/11 and Bush's exploitation of the fear that evoked. And hopefully good in that a glass ceiling of the Presidency will be shattered either by a female or a black male this November. There might be hope for the republic after all.

I'm betting that Still Life would not have found a publisher during the Bush presidency. Stay controversial, Tom.

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Still Life With Woodpecker, P. 2 (or x)

This page is the one in which Mr. Robbins injects 10ccs of Anais Nin (green label) into a ripe lime and sucks.  Then he and the Remmington SL3 begin...

 

Some of us have been fortunate enough to see Him sucking on limes at bookreadings and lectures.  Now we know why. 

 

 

~ PEACE ~ 
Nonconform Freely

 

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Blogger LIkes StillLife

by Dale

Stop by over there and leave a comment and tell him the aftrlife sent you. :-)


By Calum
Still Life with Woodpecker is my introduction to Tom Robbins, but I was into it from the first page. Robbins’ writing is a twisted amalgam of many of my favourite authors; he’s kind of like an optimistic Kurt Vonnegut crossed with ...

http://smallvictories.wordpress.com

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