ZEDS Blog


I enjoy the essays of Dafoe, Addison, and Samuel
Johnson, all of which were published in pamphlets. Pamphlets were in vogue from 1650-1800, providing writers a forum to express views on politics, society, religion, and art. This has been revived in modern times in the form of blogs.

This is now a slight revamp of my blog that started in 2008.
My reading has become a little more specialized, although previous books commented on show I was heading this direction. At this point I will review mainly Christian texts or other texts from a Christian perspective. I intend to post more regularly with book reviews.

I consider reading and writing as part of the spiritual
journey toward maturity and, I hope, wisdom. These are postings of what I’m learning along the way.

Rod Zinkel, August 19, 2015


Sunday, April 5, 2009

Historical Drama from the Point of View of the Gods

Historical drama – whether stage, film, or literature – is always tragic. We, the viewers, become like the gods of Olympus; we know the future and we know of Fate. Now we want to witness the nobility of those who must live it.

I saw the film Valkyrie, about the attempted assassination of Hitler. Every viewer knows the outcome. The film wasn’t suspenseful; that’s not why I watched. I watched to see the character of those who played out the scenario. Though they may have been fictionalize, somewhat, we know the events to be true. Historical drama allows us to observe that character that we, as people who must live out our own scenarios, without foresight of future or Fate, aspire to.

We know the inevitable end, it is only our character that survives.

Calendar

See the latest on Sheepshead Review, UWGB's Journal of the Arts:

www.uwgb.edu/sheepshead


Chapbook: Two Natures

The Neville Museum series has published a chapbook of 15 of my poems. They are of human and spiritual natures. Here are two poems from the book:

Two Natures

On still water of the pond
two natures you may notice--
where scum has been gathering,
there also grows the lotus.

One Way

There's a boy
who stands knee-high
to a July cornstalk.
He stares one way
down the dirt road
his mother has gone.
He find Fortune
has desrted him,
like the poverty-stricken,
society-forbidden parent.
"I can't take care of you," she said.
I am the child who mirrors
his mother's tears without knowing why?