Tagged: Ravedeath 1972

Tim Hecker – Ravedeath, 1972

What: As I write this i’m still somewhat awestruck by the Tim Hecker concert I underwent four days ago. For all the music I recommend applies -in my opinion- that it’s not only, or just, suited as accompaniment to a book. On its own, the music in each post can be a great experience. So when I was sitting in a almost completely darkened theater (the only light came from the escape exit signs) I did not even missed the input to the, somewhat deficient, eye-sight most humans are lucky enough to be born with. Just sitting there with my eyes closed (for even the light from the escape exit signs was to much then) I was experiencing this phenomenal music and as my eyes got some rest my mind took over and I visualised and hallucinated my way through an hour full of the most unintelligible sounds and intestine-stimulating drones.

It is possible to (re)create this experience at home, but difficult to do so without destroying the last bits of friendliness your neighbours hold for you. So perhaps it will be better to turn the volume down from the deterrent ‘twelve’ to a more modest, and indeed pusillanimous, level. Then you go grab a book and you will be able to experience another side to this wonderful music by Tim Hecker.

With: Carson McCullers – the heart is a lonely hunter
For me projection-without-reflection is the concept of this novel. All characters surrounding the deaf protagonist (John Singer!) are projecting their dreams, beliefs and struggles on this man by talking to him, and since he is not able to communicate via spoken word (nobody has the patience or sense to communicate through different means) they seem to be unable to do something with their plans. Perhaps even worse (or the cause of the lack of reflection) is that they don’t get what the protagonist himself is feeling. All the while Singer struggles with these same problems because and old friend just seems to ignore him – and perhaps this goes on ad infinitum.

It is my sincere belief that one of most important functions literature has to offer, is in its ability to reflect your own thoughts and emotions upon you. In doing so clear-up latent thoughts and feelings, in hindsight it could even illuminate motives. All though there’s always the chance of being over-analytical. The heart is a lonely hunter has not only the illuminating qualities I just mentioned, but also has the potential of showing you that both friendship and frugality can, and perhaps should, have these same qualities.