2.20.2004
two thoughts inspired by diary of a country priest
(i'm going to make an attempt to process things in ways that result in something other than reviews... here's a first try...)
***by the way, diary of a country priest is a robert bresson film from 1950***
1. i remembered that, while growing up roman catholic in the 80's, there was a distinct time where usage of the confessional went out of fashion. we still had to go to confession from time to time in school, but the context changed from the traditional "confessional box" approach to a private, face-to-face conversation with one of the parish priests (which were honestly not as terrifying as they sound, to be fair). i then realized that the confessional booths-- as far as i know-- have been removed entirely from the church itself (i get roped into the obligatory x-mas visit from time to time).
anyway, how strange a space is the confessional booth??? at once intimate and anonymous, strangely voyeuristic... sorta sexy. i think that artists should consider such a space in a way that goes beyond knee-jerk fear of christianity. i can't think of many examples-- before or since-- of a space that is as fucking loaded with impressions: physical, psychological, moral, sublime...
2. considerations of "god" are much more interesting to a free floatin' agnostic such as myself if i set aside all my boring assumptions about the subject and concentrate on desire. "god" is weird. he (in the masculine christian equation of the film) occupies the space of a human who is beyond human at the same time (obviously). if most people attempt to understand things by extending their human attributes to that which confronts them (i posted a bit about this in regards to having a pet), then the christian "god" exemplifies the boundary at which human terms of empathy become inappropriate. in a melancholic, atmospheric film like diary, god becomes the end goal of a kind of against-the-odds longing. if my thoughts flow in an abstract or reverent direction, this longing leads to heaven or forgiveness or some such thing. but if i look towards the tangible, there are a series of ruptures that render the character's life miserable, and therefore lacking grace or reverence in the day-to-day (i think of neutral milk hotel: "god is a place you will wait for the rest of your life").
if one accepts that a plea to god is born out of discontent with the corporeal world, i wonder what the stakes would be of a similiar plea minus the element of abstraction. this seems as though it could be a good thing-- an irrational expression of desire occupying the point where human understanding begins to wear out. i like this, once the sentiment seperates from universality and possibly death, in a sense. i guess that art functions like this at times: as an act that embodies a leap of faith or a plea to some unknown pleasure, but without the old man with the beard waiting to accept it and transform it into a skinnerbox equation of eternal reward.
***by the way, diary of a country priest is a robert bresson film from 1950***
1. i remembered that, while growing up roman catholic in the 80's, there was a distinct time where usage of the confessional went out of fashion. we still had to go to confession from time to time in school, but the context changed from the traditional "confessional box" approach to a private, face-to-face conversation with one of the parish priests (which were honestly not as terrifying as they sound, to be fair). i then realized that the confessional booths-- as far as i know-- have been removed entirely from the church itself (i get roped into the obligatory x-mas visit from time to time).
anyway, how strange a space is the confessional booth??? at once intimate and anonymous, strangely voyeuristic... sorta sexy. i think that artists should consider such a space in a way that goes beyond knee-jerk fear of christianity. i can't think of many examples-- before or since-- of a space that is as fucking loaded with impressions: physical, psychological, moral, sublime...
2. considerations of "god" are much more interesting to a free floatin' agnostic such as myself if i set aside all my boring assumptions about the subject and concentrate on desire. "god" is weird. he (in the masculine christian equation of the film) occupies the space of a human who is beyond human at the same time (obviously). if most people attempt to understand things by extending their human attributes to that which confronts them (i posted a bit about this in regards to having a pet), then the christian "god" exemplifies the boundary at which human terms of empathy become inappropriate. in a melancholic, atmospheric film like diary, god becomes the end goal of a kind of against-the-odds longing. if my thoughts flow in an abstract or reverent direction, this longing leads to heaven or forgiveness or some such thing. but if i look towards the tangible, there are a series of ruptures that render the character's life miserable, and therefore lacking grace or reverence in the day-to-day (i think of neutral milk hotel: "god is a place you will wait for the rest of your life").
if one accepts that a plea to god is born out of discontent with the corporeal world, i wonder what the stakes would be of a similiar plea minus the element of abstraction. this seems as though it could be a good thing-- an irrational expression of desire occupying the point where human understanding begins to wear out. i like this, once the sentiment seperates from universality and possibly death, in a sense. i guess that art functions like this at times: as an act that embodies a leap of faith or a plea to some unknown pleasure, but without the old man with the beard waiting to accept it and transform it into a skinnerbox equation of eternal reward.
