Books about Brasilia: More Beautiful than the City

Now that I'm back in the saddle again, I've finally read two books that I got more than a year ago when I began seriously planning my next book project.

Lee got me the gorgeous biography and appreciation of the long-lived Brazilian architect: Oscar Niemeyer: Curves of Irreverence by Styliane Phillippou.  I picked up Building Brasilia by Marcel Gautherot some time ago, but had never sat down to look at it carefully.

Both are the kind of books that weigh a ton because of the excellent coated paper they're printed on.  The reproduction of photos is very good too.  And both give a lot of information about the mythic construction of the Brazilian capital.  The Niemeyer book goes farther, of course, because it also talks about his many projects both before and after Brasilia.

The heart of the matter, though, is the dream of creating a modernist city in the middle of nowhere in an impossibly short time.  The idea was to make a new sort of city, somewhat inspired by Le Corbusier's idea, that would house 250,000 people governing Brazil.

The reality, as I found out on my recent trip, is not what was hoped for.  Sure, 250,000 people now live in the heart of the capital, but an order of magnitude more live in satellite cities just beyond a green belt.  The Superquadras, elegantly landscaped six story apartment blocks place artfully around courtyards and served by nearby shopping streets, are probably great places to live.  But to live elsewhere means being dependent on chaotic public transport and/or a private automobile that will spend most of its time stuck in traffic.  And should you want to cross a street--well, good luck!  I almost got hit four times.

The photo is of Niemeyer's cathedral, one of the first buildings constructed in the capital.  It is an impressive bulding, but I think the pigeons roosting on a nearby structure plus the grass growing between the paving stones give a hint of how Brasilia has aged badly.

Great Review of Desire Lines in Quill and Quire

Yesssss! A very nice, starred review of Desire Lines in the forthcoming Quill and Quire. "This collection is not to be missed," says reviewer Joy Parks.

The photo, by the way, is of a desire line in that too-rationally constructed city, Brasilia.  Should never rule out the importance of the human will.

When a Sleigh Ride Is Not Something to Sing about: Kamouraska

On cold nights like this one, my thoughts turn to images of winter that have found a place in my imagination, waiting out the good weather to come from the shadows when the wind blows the snow in drifts.

One of them is the scene in Claude Jutra's movie of Anne Hébert's terrific nevel Kamouraska.  Based on the true story of the 1838 murder of Seigneur of Kamouraska, by an American doctor   in love with the Seigneur's wife, Hebert's novel shows us a  respectably married woman remembering her great passion and the murder of he first husband.  

Much of the action takes place inside Elisabeth Rolland's head as she waits beside the bed of her dying second husband.  The style is stream of consciousness at times, and it can take some effort to figure out just what is happening,   But it contains an engrossing, frigtening account of how the doctor fled with his rival's body across the snow-blasted countryside of the Lower St. Lawrence that by itself is worth taking the time to unravel the story.  

Hébert wrote in French but the English translation by Norman Shapiro captures some of the original text's force and beauty.  And Jutra's film is breathtakingly beautiful, as well as considerbly clearer than the novel. For a while it was unavailable on video, but I found this (possibly pirated) copy on Youtube.