Some Light

Friday, November 23, 2012

The Glimmer of Armour

The Glimmer of Armour

The Glimmer of Armour

The Glimmer of Armour

The Glimmer of Armour

Gracia, Louise and I have been working on a bookend zine for It’s the Dusty Hour, called The Glimmer of Armour. The title of this light-themed zine comes from one of the lines of the poem I wrote for the zine called ‘Daytime Party’. When I was writing it, I was thinking about my previous poem, written for the Dusty Hour zine, which was all about the close of day, and feeling protected by being alone. ‘Daytime Party’ acts as an opposite counterpart: being exposed in the day, surrounded by people. I also wanted to write something that wasn’t too cliché about light – something more personal and unexpected. The zine will be ready for sale in my shop soon, so this is a little peek (thanks to Gracia and Louise for sending me these images of their collages from the zine). Gracia also wrote this post about it.

The timing of working on this zine this week has not gone unnoticed by me. Collaborating on a zine called ‘The Glimmer of Armour’ on a week when I’ve felt, and many of my family and friends have felt, worried and hopeless, has been strange. Yet, it was a welcome distraction. I’ve said this many times, and I know it’s a comment that probably results in people rolling their eyes at me, but I think words and narrative are one of our ‘defences’ in life. After all, one of the functions of sitting down to write or sitting down to read is to create a dialogue. It’s one of the things I cling to when things feel a bit hopeless. 

I also found out that a personal essay I wrote about Israel was accepted for publication this week in the literary journal, Meanjin. On any other week, I would have been just happy to have my work accepted in a journal I love. On this week however, it means so much more. All the things I can’t say now are expressed in this essay I wrote a few months ago. Strange thing this is, timing.

I should also mention that I wrote this article on nostalgia, period dramas and blogs a few weeks ago, and it was published this week: The Ethics of Nostalgia. I would honestly love some feedback on it.

I’m hoping for a peaceful weekend, for everyone.

5 comments:

Mariella said...

I would love to read your essay on Israel. It's been a though week for me too, but I could not agree more the function of writing or reading is to create a dialogue, a dialogue that unfortunately too often is missing. Big hugs Hila!

Rambling Tart said...

I can only imagine how gutting this week has been for you. I have a friend from Tel Aviv and I'm so glad that she is safe, and her friends and family. I hope so much that your beloveds are safe too. I'm so glad you have a defense in your words, may they continue to comfort, strengthen, and ease your pain. XO

Desmond Webster said...

I like your formulation of nostalgia in your article. From the first introduction of the television and film, large swaths of people were influenced by what they saw. You note this in the Merchant Ivory films, but it probably started much earlier in the twentieth century.

It's also interesting that you cite the show Mad Men, because the advertising executives in that show overtly acknowledge that they are attempting to artificially manufacture nostalgia in their potential customers.

But there something else that this made me question. Isn't nostalgia simply a complicated human emotion? What I mean is the two most complicated human emotions to unpack and comprehend are nostalgia and melancholy. So the triggers that shift those emotions in one direction or the other in people is also going to be complicated.

Anyway, I enjoyed reading your article, Hila. And I hope that all is well with you and your family.

Jane Flanagan said...

No eye rolling here. Words definitely are my bulwark against the world as well as my way of connecting with it on terms I'm comfortable with. It's an interesting move to me that a tool of communication can become a fortress of solitude and selectiveness.

I've been thinking about you all week and praying in my own non-praying way. We need a word for that.

And I'm so glad you worked on another zine. It looks already beautiful.

Congrats on the publications too! I look forward to reading it all!

Hila said...

Mariella: It'll be published next year, I think in June. But I'll keep you posted on it. Oh yes, the concept and spirit of dialogue is completely missing here - people seem to like viewing things in black and white when it comes to this topic. An easy thing to do when you're completely distanced from it, and not affected by it personally and emotionally. Sometimes people's lack of empathy astounds me.

Krista: Thank you so much. It's gotten to the point where even voicing real concern for family and friends in Israel is taken as as 'attack'. Sigh. I hope your friend is okay.

Desmond: Thank you for this response about my article, it's much appreciated. I definitely agree that there is an individual and personal mode of nostalgia - how much of that we can neatly separate from collective nostalgia is debatable, but for me, it is, as you said, a complex thing that perhaps is not always open to categorisation, or open to be unpacked. I guess my article was mainly about collective nostalgia, and how that is often used culturally and politically - sometimes, this can be a dangerous thing. Thanks for such a thoughtful response again.

Jane: yes, that's what reading and writing are for me: communication, but also, a retreat and a defence. All these functions are important. I'm glad you're not eye-rolling at me - I got told the other day that I'm 'overly-earnest', hmm, wtf?

Oh yes, we definitely need to invent a word for non-praying praying. I know I can count on your support, so thank you.