Citizen Kane : Shot by Shot

Jeff Bernstein · February 19, 2023

Commercial Break : Film history in film history

In the following insert from Make Me a Star (1932), note some names that will one day enter movie history :

(1:18:25)

Captain Benjamin L. Willard : character in Apocalypse Now (1979)

Daniel Plainview : character in There Will Be Blood (2007)

Burn Gorman : actor in The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

Stratton Oakmont : Leonardo DiCaprio's firm in The Wolf of Wall Street (2013)

Edited February 19, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 19, 2023

50–55 Images of Kane’s Portfolio

Newsreel Narrator : “ [ Kane’s Empire : ] The first of grocery stores, paper mills, apartment buildings, factories, forests, ocean liners.” (6:00–6:09).

50

This looks as if Kane is visible throughout the streets of small-town America (echo of Woolworth’s?).

Adding dynamism to the shot, Welles has a car drive past.

Note the “K” insignia in the center of the business sign. This design seems to be Kane’s own, in the manner of heraldry.

51

Tiny detail : Adding depth to the tube on which the paper is rolled is a distant white light therein.

52

Is it interesting that this is the first image of finished buildings in the Newsreel that is framed with geometry opposite to the others?

53

Ah, economic production, the epic manufacturer of air pollution.

This shot recalls (yet again) Baby Face (1932) :

(1:12)

54

Ah, a beautiful tree that generates oxygen for life on earth to continue. Let’s cut it down!

Xanadu, for example, required “100,000 trees” for its construction on its “private mountain” (3:54).

55

Speaking of pollution. . . . Ocean liners are multi-waste-product pollution machines. This ship looks like a knife : is it murdering the planet with its sharp point?

*

As mentioned earlier, the world’s wealthiest filth use our planet Earth as their own private workshop. Air pollution? Destruction of forests? Toxic emissions into our oceans? What are all these inconveniences compared to the exigencies of the one percent’s bank balance? “How much is enough?” Wall Street (1987), 1:35:58.

*

Note the various spheres of life that Kane’s empire encompasses, as reported by the Newsreel :

food : to survive

paper : to read (and hopefully to learn)

apartments : to dwell

factories : to maintain society (as we know it now)

forests : for manufacturing materials (apparently?)

ocean liners : to travel (e.g., transatlantic crossings, before their supplantation by air-travel)

Generally speaking, this montage of 50–55 moves from the intimate to the social : The individual eats food, reads, and dwells in apartments. Wider society requires factories, forests, and ocean liners.

Generally speaking, Charles Foster Kane seemingly had his reach into every aspect, large and small, of American life.

Edited February 19, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 19, 2023

Commercial Break : lens flare of six seconds

Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992), 1:16–1:21. Used here to generate a subtle sense of eerie weirdness, of uncommonness? This lens flare moves and is (no doubt?) absorbed unconsciously by the audience.

Edited February 19, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 19, 2023

Lens flare : continued

(13:07). Note the remarkable lighting effect on the lantern. This so-called “asymmetrical radating-spoke flare” may be used here to communicate eerie outward aggression. Director of Photography : Michael Ballhaus. Close in look to a “starburst lens flare”, this recalls one of Fassbinder’s favorite lighting techniques.

Examples :

The Marriage of Maria Braun (1978), 14:00

Berlin Alexanderplatz (1980), episode 12 (19:40)

Die Sehnsucht der Veronika Voss (1982), 3:26

Querelle (1982) : starburst lens flare : even in the actress’ eyes!

(1:06:11)

Edited February 19, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 19, 2023

The Super Bowl of Commercials continue : Coppola and Spielberg

The quick one-second glance of a man’s embarrassed tears (don’t let the others see!).

(17:53–17:54)

Saving Private Ryan (1998), 1:35:27–1:36:28

Jeff Bernstein · February 19, 2023

56–60 The Colorado Lode Mine

(6:10–6:19) NEWSREEL NARRATOR : “An empire through which for 50 years flowed in an unending stream the wealth of the Earth’s third-richest gold mine.”

56

57

58

59

60

The Spectator sees imagery of the gold mine that generated Kane’s wealth. Shot 56 establishes the location, and shot 60 conveys the valuable output of the mine; but what of shots 57–59? Are these shots more padding from the Newsreel newsmen? Or might we consider these shots as rare glimpses of keen American know-how getting things done and producing the bucks? Both? And what else? (Let’s not start.)

How many humans on Earth will be able to immediately identify the specific stages of the smelting processes of shots 57–59? They’ll be the lucky ones who have a specific understanding of the technology of coverting ore into gold bars.

Q : Were shots 57–59 rare footage at the time, and an effort to acquire them? Regardless of all that : the footage of shots 57–59 pays off in the contribution to realism, which seduces an audience into ingenuous emotional reactions to the story.

NEWSREEL NARRATOR : “An empire through which for 50 years flowed in an unending stream the wealth of the Earth’s third-richest gold mine.”

If we’re being persnickety : the Newsreel’s sentence includes violations of the time-honored convention of the “Order of Adjectives” (or in this case, Adjective Phrases).

(Btw, the “Order of Adjectives” is a quizzical phenomenon of our language, because : Does anyone ever ask who imposed such an order on us?)

Still and all, let’s be sensible here. The Newsman’s sentence is perfectly clear even with its so-called violations. The syntax accommodates the intonations of a mock-grandiose Narrator leading the audience down a Grand Path of Rhetoric.

Edited February 19, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 19, 2023

Coming Soon

Coincidence?

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

By this point, shot 61 at (6:20) of Citizen Kane, your concentrated author lowers his eyes at the absurdity of this venture. The utility of this effort is plain and virtuous : Inspiration. But when your effortful author envisons the way ahead, he furrows his brow at the private mountain of the work—or the private island. The brow furrows because an artwork has an infinity of significations (according to the duration of time devoted by the spectator). The Reader now has in mind the theory that at least two different absorption streams are operating simutaneously during the experience of an artwork : the Reasonable (the immediate understanding an audience has when following a story moment-by-moment in real time) and the Unconscious (which takes in every pixel of the frame at once, and processes its input in ways humankind hasn’t yet understood, since the Unconscious remains a mystery). All this understood : How, then, are we to come to grips in print with an entire film, when each shot is an Artwork of its own?

Choices must be made. The more experienced the Thinker, the more cogent the writing. The task here is to keep producing commentary that inspires. The task here is not to explicate the “whole of CK”, which is absurd to consider, because it cannot be done. Art is infinite.

Absolutely no question period.

What makes a person return to an artwork over and over again? Hell, I’m not here to explain everything.

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

prefatory to 61

Did I not say earlier than there is no overt religious observance in Citizen Kane? The Newsreel shoehorns it in : In a central position of the frame is an arrow pointing to a church.

But we must stop now. We must think, and not go too quickly. Because the mother of Charles Foster Kane is about to be introduced, and she is the basis of a colossal mystery. How can a mother give her only child away? Even more colossally, she conditions, at the most fundamental point inside him, the character of Kane.

Yes, we must proceed slowly. Though the mother of Charles Foster Kane occupies scant screen-time only, she invests the entire experience of CK from beginning to end in the manner of how our DNA is represented in our every cell.

It is imperative, then, to prepare ourselves to consider the character of the mother, however small her role in the production (a speaking part in two contiguous scenes, 18:56–23:06).

Edited February 20, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

prefatory to 61

The significance of the male-female bond is self-evident. Without an easy faculty for procreation, our species wouldn’t have lasted long. What is produced out of the blood and flesh of the conjoined man and woman is a child. Nowadays we know that parents pass on their DNA, for good or ill. (And when your light-hearted author says “ill”, in his case he means it in the strongest possible sense—just another theory, sure, but do you want it tested?) In our culture, the parents of a child give precedence to their own child. It is not the norm for two parents to raise someone’s else child. Think of a world in which all the babies born on a specific day are mixed up on purpose, will the full consent of all the parents, then distributed at random to those parents, DNA being come-what-may. That doesn’t happen in our culture.

So much is obvious.

But an artist has to start somewhere, and to start speaking abstractly without preparation—as if opening a movie in the midst of, say, a car chase, like, say, Lethal Weapon 2 (1989)—is just silly.

Remember Prayer. Prayers are the same “word for word” texts whenever we recite them; and the same prayers are recited word-for-word day-by-day. Citizen Kane changes as much as the words of a prayer—that is to say, it doesn’t. What changes in the repetition is the Thought behind it. The words may be the same, CK may be the same, but the experience is not the same. The experience cannot be the same, because each experience is an expansion of the last; so continuous absorption of an Artwork grows the Artwork in magnitude. The more we repeat, the more information we gather, so that with every repetition the experience is greater. Each experience is more momentous, because there is always something new to discover, and what is discovered may be mind-blowing; and, after long repetition, it usually is.

In short, knowledge gained from experiencing an Artwork once or twice is ridiculous. As inane as air. Stick with Art, and it gives you the air you need to breathe. Freedom.

Edited February 20, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

prefatory to 61

The mother of Charles Foster Kane. Let’s not even identify her by her character name—not yet. We shall speak abstractly of mothers.

Since the beginning of organized civilization (say, the year 10,000BC), most mothers on the planet Earth haven’t murdered their children.

If mothers don’t kill their children, then, at the very least, they tolerate them; and raise them themselves.

Mothers, since 10,000BC (just starting anywhere), haven’t abandoned their children.

Hence the audience response to a story such as, say, Terms of Endearment (1983), in which a mother loses her child. Audiences wept.

61

The vector of the sign generates great force, and is contradictory. Our eyes move right as we read, yet the arrow points left.

Embarking on the game of What’s in a name? will annoy everyone. Jerusalem is (arguably?) inescapable, because of the church prominent in the shot. There’s Salem, Massachusetts, which became the wealthiest spot in America for a time. Claudette Colbert stars with Fred MacMurray in The Maid of Salem (1937) (for completists only), which evokes the Salem Witch Trials of 1692. Salem reminds us of the sensitive, analytical Nathaniel Hawthorne; and so of the claustrophobia of The Scarlet Letter, and of its landmark status in American Literature. Then the game gets even wackier. What about the word “male” in Salem? And “me”? Enough. But the word Little in the town’s name is cogent : it conveys a degree of magnitude.

Colorado State Line. Why would the storytellers employ the detail of the “state line”? Is this another instance of the storytelling technique of Realism? Since one thing is never only one thing, however, the employment of the technique will not be the full explanation of the detail. However, that last remark puts us on the road to Infinity—which is just a manner of saying we’re already in Infinity and condensing it moment-by-moment to a manageable degree according to our faculties.

But what if there was an imperative to answer the question with at least one answer? What might be evoked by the storytellers situating the young Kane’s house near a State Line?

A State Line is a line on a map. A State Line is an employment, demonstration, and reinforcement of Reason.

So what does this shot evoke beyond its Initial Storytelling Function?

(a) Reason

(b) The church (whatever it means to whomever)

(c) Little evokes a state of vulnerability

(d) The “3”, evidently signifying “three miles”, is therefore another demonstration of Reason.

We’re at a Reasonable Spot.

If we join the detail of the church to that last, then we might theorize : We’re at a Swell American Spot, all the sweet, warm, apple-pie hometown goodness of, say, Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt (1943). (That last sentence followed the rules of the “Order of Adjectives”.)

We’ve swept like a zephyr into a Reasonable Spot. But something completely out of the ordinary takes place in this Reasonable Spot. A shock.

Edited February 20, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

62 Mary Kane

62 begins in CU of the son, then pulls out to show the entirety of the subject of the shot :

A studio photograph of mother and son.

Charles the son looks serious, thoughtful—full of potential. But there is a shadow on the left side of his face. Who or what is casting that shadow?

The bow tied around the son’s neck and the mother’s garment are made of the same material : this conveys a close connection—or is the mother-son bond, if all goes well, the closest of connections? Note also how the son’s collar looks similar to the mother’s shown below (and the black of their garments is another association) :

(21:05) Now we have two different expressions of the mother to consider.

In the photograph, one might say that Mary Kane looks sharp-eyed and stern, but not unloving. At the very least she looks respectful. But at (21:05), Mary Kane, regarding her son as he is about to leave her forever, looks cold as ice.

Cold as ice? But now comes a contradiction. In the photograph, the mother is holding the son’s hand with both of her own. She has brought his hand towards her, and their joined hands are balanced on her lap. This joining of hands is an indicator of either a powerful mutual bond, or the grip of an overbearing mother. Or both. (And whatever else.)

An overbearing mother? Is that a clue to the abandonment?

At first thought one might answer : “No. That’s idiotic. An overbearing mother obviously cares for her son or she wouldn’t direct so much hard attention on him to conform to her ideal.”

Let’s leap ahead and offer our first theory : It is because Mary Kane is an overbearing mother that she eventually lets her son go free.

But the fact of the mother’s abandonment of the son will not be explained with one answer. So whenever we arrive at what may be a piece of the puzzle of the Secret, we must pause and consider it (at least cursorily), so that piece-of-thought may remain in the mind; then we will be ready to connect the next theoretical piece-of-thought to the previous one. Ideally : in this manner, clues grow in number until the Secret is revealed.

The overbearing mother may be such out of love. (If we define overbearingness as an excessive application of love.)

Theory : Mary Kane loves her son so much that she gives up her child for his own good.

There is a complication here.

Observe how cold Mary Kane looks at the moment of her son’s goodbye.

Experiment : Show this film still to someone unacquainted with CK, and ask : “Does it look as if this mother loves her son? She’s looking at him about to leave her forever.”

Is this a woman without warmth? (There is a heart-breaking wobble in her voice when she calls out “Charles!” at 20:55.) Is Mary Kane a mythical “hard-as-nails” pioneer woman? Perhaps Mary Kane is as forward-looking as CK itself : nihilist. Is Mary Kane prepared to do what is necessary, whatever is necessary? Is she ruthless in her “love”? (Might Catherine Tramell be a distant relative?) Might Mary Kane have bequeathed to her son her cold, distant feeling of cruel love?

And yet in the photograph she is holding his hand in both of her own, and looking not unsympathetically at her child.

She is clutching his left hand (the bad luck hand in the ancient world). Our English word “sinister” derives from the classical Latin sinister : “left, left-handed, (of omens) unfavourable, harmful, unfavourably situated” (OED).

At the moment, we need go no further in our thinking on the mother. The process of exploring a work of art is an intricate one. Answers need not come too quickly. Call this post “advance reconnaissance for an information-gathering mission”.

Oh yes. The Truth of their relationship, while encoded in the photograph, is entirely absent to scrutiny. All there is, is the photograph : shapes and colors : Nothing more than a trace of the living.

*

“It doesn’t matter what is done in private. What is important is the public show—it must be flawless. Because public show is the language we use to tell our friends and enemies that we still have order enough to make a good display. You see, it doesn’t matter whether people think you killed Deborah, it matters only whether people are given the opportunity to recognize it’s being swept under the carpet.” (Norman Mailer, An American Dream, ch. 8).

Edited February 20, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

Psalm 96

O with new praise sing of the Lord,

Sing to the Lord and all the earth.

Sing to the Lord and praise His name,

Proclaim from day to day glad word of His salvation.

Of His glory bring news to all the nations,

To all the peoples His wonders.

For great is the Lord,

And exceedingly praiseworthy;

Fearsome is He above all gods.

For the gods of the Gentiles are demons;

And the Lord made the Heavens.

Praise and beauty are before him,

Holiness and majesty in His sanctuary.

Bring to the Lord, O families of nations,

Bring to the Lord honor and respect.

Bring to the Lord the glory of His name;

Bring offerings and come into His courts.

Revere the Lord in His holy house;

Tremble, all the earth, in His presence.

Say among the nations: the Lord rules,

For He has created our world, which will not be moved;

He will judge the people with righteousness.

Rejoice, Heavens; exult, O earth;

Shake, sea, and all it holds.

Rejoice, plains, and everything in them;

Exult, all trees of the forest.

Exult before the presence of the Lord, for He comes;

He comes to judge the earth,

To judge the world in righteousness,

And the people with His truth.

Translated by JSB

Edited February 20, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

What is Art?

Any work of art, indeed anything accessible to human observation, has a theoretically infinite number of significations; no one thing is ever only “one thing”. Example : a water glass. A glass holds water : this is the face-value meaning that, at first glance, an observer absorbs without effort. Yet a glass can also be : (1) a pencil holder; (2) a doorstop; (3) a weapon; (4) a cage for bugs; and so on and so forth. Since Identity is a multitude (always more than a “one”), so : any one interpretation of a work of art reveals more of the observer than the work itself. A work of art is “everything at once” and the eye of the observer automatically delimits this infinitude into the restriction of a “meaning”. In the ordinary everyday, we see something visible (e.g., a tree) and in the same gesture identify a meaning, and briskly move on : but a first glance can never tell a whole story; nor, if any one thing is an infinitude, will an infinite number of words finally fix a thing (e.g., a tree, or an artwork) as “completely explained” in total for all time. All this by way of saying : any interpretation of anything is only a Meaning provisionally and for the moment. A definition by necessity reduces infinitude, for practical reasons : if everything we looked at automatically generated a combinatorial explosion of meanings leading theoretically to infinity : well, that wouldn’t be practical : one reason being : excessive expenditure of brain energy. Another reason being : we would be stopped in our tracks, and not much work would get done (e.g., finding food to eat). So it may very well be the case that the brain, by necessity, is hard-wired to be content with knee-jerk unitary meaning for everything we see (“a glass is a glass”) for the practical purpose of engaging with the world with efficiency. What helps with this process of Automatic Meaning Limitation is a person’s confidence. Now, what is confidence? Confidence is assurance in oneself. But what is the origin of confidence? What if confidence is founded on nothing more than the physical sensation of standing upright on two feet? What if confidence is founded on nothing but air? Restated : Reason is founded on air. Is Reason nothing more than a tool that humans use within a larger world of Mystery? And this is where art comes in. Art teaches us to break through this knee-jerk confidence in things that we all employ on a moment-by-moment basis out in the world : Art is Revolutionary : it can change our sight for all time : if we know how to “use” art : if we know what art is. One thing art is : art is a gymnasium for the mind. The effort of analysing art sharpens the mind so that we can thenceforth absorb new information quicker and with more acuity. While we move through the world briskly so that we can “get on with things”, art should slow us down, should slow our minds down to a crawl, just as an athlete works out slowly and determinedly and carefully, then moves quickly on the field of play : but, alas, we are not taught (as we grow up) the power contained in art: we are not taught what art is (but we think we know) : and so we approach art in the same way that we approach the everyday world. What I mean by this last is : In the everyday world, we see, for example, a tree, and that’s that : similarly, when we observe art we have a thought about it then move on : but in this latter case we are desperately wrong : art is not life : art is the tool that teaches us what life is, and is not : if we understand how to use art. Art should be the slowest thing on earth we absorb. (The quicker we understand something, the less we know of it.) If art can be equated to medicine, then the general public consumes 5 milligrams of art at a time, which has no lasting effect on the sensorium : but 100 milligrams at once can cure a person of the delusion of Confidence for a lifetime. Through thinking (and art is the guide that helps us along), we break ourselves down and build ourselves back up and become more than what we were : Art makes us Sharp as a Tack. If we let it. And so then : (a) any one thing is never only one thing; (b) a work of art is limitless in potential meaning; (c) studying art enhances our cerebral powers, if we devote the proper effort; (d) and any one interpretation will only be precisely that, and only for the moment (for observation, by necessity, delimits). The key for us all is to push through our initial confidence, which is founded on nothing but air, and look closer, and patiently, and with effort. And if we use art in its purest form (as medicine for the mind), then it changes us forever for the better. Art is a guide along the way to Truth. Art and philosophy are equivalent : both remove the so-called “dust of the Visible” from our eyes so we see with new vision : and take in everything and ourselves as if for the first time. Art is the guide to help us along the way to Revelation. Yes: Art is Revolutionary. It makes us better : if we know what art is and how to use it. Art is Revolutionary.

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

Ezekiel 1.1–28

(1) And it came to pass on the fifth day of the fourth month of the thirtieth year that, in the midst of captivity by the river Kebar, I saw the sky open, and I saw the appearance of God. (2) This happened in the fifth year of the captivity of King Jeconiah. (3) And the word of the Lord came to priest Ezekiel, son of Buzi, by the river Kebar in the Chaldean land. Upon him there came the hand of God. (4) And I saw, marvellous to see, a breath of wind swell from the north, and an awesome mist, with a fiery brilliancy blazing around it, and in the midst a shining vision of amber (הַחַשְׁמַ֖ל ἠλέκτρου) beaming in the midst of the fire. (5) And there in the midst appeared four living beings (חַיּ֑וֹת ζῴων) and this was their appearance: Their shape was human. (6) But each had four faces, and four wings each. (7) Their legs stood upright, and their winged feet flashed like gleaming brass, and their wings lay lightly. (8) And underneath their four wings were human hands. And all of the four had been given faces and wings. (9) With wings combined they moved with straightforward gaze. (10) And their faces had a human shape. And on the right side the four had the face of a lion, and on the left the face of a bull, and each had the face of an eagle. (11) And their wings were spread high. Two wings of each overlapped with those alongside, while for each two wings covered their bodies. (12) And each according to their gaze moved as their spirit moved them and did not turn. (13) And in the midst of these living beings the vision of their faces was like burning coals that kindle fire, or set torches alight. And in the midst they shone as one equal fire and from the fire sparked forth lightning. (14) And the living beings moved in a flash of lightning. (15) And I saw, and beheld over the ground a wheel (אוֹפַ֨ן κύκλῳ) posessed by the four. (16) And the body of the wheels were of the body of beryl (תַּרְשִׁ֔ישׁ θαρσις) and the work of all four shared the same form. And their workings were just as wheels working in wheels. (17) Through any of the four they moved, their movement not self-advancing, but united when they moved. (18) And the grandeur of those wheels! I saw many eyes cycling around the rims of the wheels of the four. (19) And where the living creatures went, the wheels went with them; and when the living creatures lifted from the earth, the wheels lifted with them. (20) Where the cloud moves, moves the spirit (הָר֤וּחַ πνεῦμα) of living beings. When the wheels rise, the spirit rises with them, as the spirit of the living beings is in the wheels. (21) When those move, these move. When they stand still, these stand still. When those rise from the earth, the wheels rise with them, as the spirit of the living beings is in the wheels. (22) And crystalline was the vision above the heads of the living beings: the vision of the firmamentum extended over their wings. (23) And their wings extended within the firmamentum, two wings uniting each to each while two wings concealed the body of each. (24) And I heard the sound of the movement of their wings like the liquid sound of water, many-tongued like a tumultuous step of the mighty. And I heard the quiet of rest when they settled their tumidulus wings down. (25) And down upon us came a voice from over the firmamentum (לָרָקִ֖יעַ — ὑπεράνωθεν — ὑπερ-firmamentum). (26) And over them like a vision of a precious sapphire (סַפִּ֖יר σαπφείρου) came the image of a throne, and on this image of a throne was a vision in the shape of a human, high over their heads. (27) And I saw a vision of amber and inside a vision of creative fire (מָתְנָ֖יו. . . אֵ֤ש ὀσφῦς . . . . πυρὸς) and a vision of fire all around and brightness circling. (28) Like a rainbow on a rain-cloudy day stood the light circling this vision. I see this exalted state (δόξης κυρίου) and drop to my face. And I hear a voice speak—

translated by JSB

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

The Armor of Achilles

Meanwhile, Thetis of the seawaves came out of cool silver

froth, and went down into the sweltering forge of inventor

Hephaestus. This cave, of imperishable bronze, made and shaped

by the artful clubfoot himself, glimmered like starlight around her,

as the flames from the smithy danced as shadows over the walls.

God Hephaestus himself she saw perspiring and limping

this way and that, eagerly industrious at his mighty

bellows; for the ingenious god of many crafts was making

three-legged tables called tripods, twenty in all, to improve

the vast space of his solid-standing hall. One gold wheel was set

at the end of each leg, so that these tripods might move this way

and that during assemblies of the gods, seemingly moving

on their own, yet in actuality following his thoughts

from afar, a wondrous invention to witness in action.

Thus would these automatons distribute trays among his guests.

So these marvels were complete but for their delicately curved

handles, which Hephaestus was now preparing, hammering out

rivets, when silvery Thetis appeared before him. And his wife,

Charis, saw her, and came forward : Charis, a lovely beauty,

one of the Graces, whom the far-famed crooked-walking artful

god had chosen for her splendid charm and creativity.

She came forward from behind a shining white linen veil,

and took the hand of Thetis in kind welcome, and spoke out :

“Ah, Thetis!” she said. “What a beautiful long robe you’re wearing!

Come in; you’re always welcome in our home. I only wish you’d

visit more often. Come now : let me set out some refreshment.”

So spoke δῖος goddess Charis, and led her pleased guest further

on into the sumptuous, many-chambered grottae-work of her

home. Then Thetis was invited to sit on a wondrously

carven silver chair, and beneath her feet was placed a footstool,

for further comfort. Charis then summoned her husband Hephaestus,

famous artist, and spoke to him, saying :

“Dear husband, please sit with us. Thetis has a question for you.”

And the famous artist god shambled over with his clubfoot,

and stood before them, massive in size and muscle; and he said

to the two goddesses :

“Ah, Thetis. Lovely Thetis is here in our halls, here before

my eyes. She who saved me with kindness, when I was sunk in pain,

after my dog-faced mother—the goat-eating Queen of Heaven—

had abandoned me in my suffering, and had left me hidden

away, uncaring of me, simply because of my clubfoot.

Then I felt terrible in my heart, and saw no way forward.

But, as if in a dream, two women of the sea came to me,

Eurynome, and Thetis. Eurynome and Thetis took me

close into the bosom of the sea. Ah, Eurynome!

Beautiful daughter of eternally-flowing Oceanus.

I remember it all clearly and well, and happily so.

For nine years I lived in the waves with them,

and my hands became strong and cunning with art,

and I made many brooches and twisted bracelets,

and earrings, and delicate necklaces, down there

in their glimmering cave, deep in the streaming

currents of Oceanus : to me at that time I lived in

inexpressible beauty. And no one knew, or could ever

comprehend, neither man nor god. But Thetis and Eurynome

knew, the two sweet ones who saved me. And now she is here

before me, all these years later, Thetis, in my cave.

Whatever it is you want, lovely Thetis, it is yours.

But to give you my full attention, I must close down my forge.”

So the lamed artist withdrew; and with heavy, lurching tread,

he went to his anvil, monstrous in size and panting all the while,

as he dragged his foot. But his mind and arms were quick-moving,

and he removed the bellows from the fire and set it away,

and quietly collected all the tools into a silver chest.

Then with a streaming sponge he washed his face, and neck,

and massive shaggy chest; and he put on a scented tunic

(in respect of Thetis, and no affectation of the artist).

Then he took his walking stick in hand, and stepped forward, limping;

but two handmaidens slipped up upon him to support him,

their master, two youthful girls shaped from gold, and animated

inside with an understanding mind, and caring hearts, and speech,

and strength : and their hands, too, had many artful powers, gifted them

by the immortal god Hephaestus, and advanced on their own.

Living, as it were, and moving on their own, they stayed close

to their master, who went forward with difficulty, slowly,

up to Thetis; then he sat down in a gleaming chair, and he

took her two hands into his own, and spoke, saying :

“Why, Thetis, whom we honour and respect beyond speech,

have you come to our home, for our pleasure and welcome?

Not often do you sit here before us. Speak your mind, and if

it can be done, I shall do it.”

So Thetis sat before him, with tears streaming down her goddess

face. Then she began to speak, and told him her story :

“Hephaestus, is there anyone on Olympus, any god

or goddess, who has suffered so many sorrows as I have?

And all my misery has come relentlessly from one place : Zeus.

Out of all the daughters of the waves of the sea, he brought me,

and no one else, to lie beside a mortal man : Peleus,

son of Aeacus. I held out in submission to the man,

though it hurt me very much to do so (for what else was I

to do?). Now this man sits heedless in his halls, weary in mind,

with all his years used up; but I am burdened with many griefs.

For after I lay with him I gave birth to a son, who grew

as a sapling in an fine orchard grows to an impressive tree,

and now he is first among warriors. I sent him in his

ships to Ilium to fight the Trojans, but destiny is

not to allow him to return to his home, and old Peleus.

But while he is still alive, and sees the light of the sun,

he grieves; he has much sorrow; and though I go to him,

I have no power to help him. The girl that the Achaean

sons selected for him as a prize of honour—her, the lord

Agamemnon has taken out of his arms. Since that happened,

my son has been grieving for his lost honour; it eats away

at his soul. Then the Achaeans were pushed back to their ships

and the Trojans wouldn’t permit them any release; so then

the Argive elders came to my son with prayer, and offered him

many gifts. And then my great-hearted son softened,

and allowed his dear friend, Patroclus, son of Menoetius,

to enter the battle wearing some of his own armour,

and allowed some of his Myrmidons to accompany him.

But my son, he stayed behind, still grieving at heart.

All day long they fought their way right up to the city gates,

and then and there would have taken the city once and for all;

but Apollo came down to the front lines of battle and killed

Patroclus, simply to give the glory to Trojan Hector.

So now I have come to my knees before you, perchance you may

be so disposed to grant my son, who is doomed to imminent death,

a shield, and helmet, and breast-plate, and all the armour he needs

to answer his dishonour. For when they killed his dearest friend,

they took away the armour that he would have worn to enter

combat. And now my son lies mourning in the dirt, suffering

at heart.”

Then the artist, his body hobbled at birth, a drab inheritance,

spoke out solemnly in answer, and said :

“Be eased, dear Thetis. Your wishes are no longer a worry.

If only I had power to turn him away from bitter death,

when sombre fate falls, just as the armour I shall provide him

with will be a marvel in the eyes of men, whoever it

may be who see it. Zeus may always have the final word, but

I will fight for you, dear Thetis, until the last day there is.”

So saying, immortal artist-god Hephaestus left her there

with Charis, his darling wife, and went forward to his bellows.

These automata, twenty in all, obeyed the turn of his thoughts;

so now all twenty swivelled toward the fire, while he watched them,

standing with his colossal physique hard-by the dancing flames.

So all the bellows blew upon the crucibles, and their strong-

blowing breath came from all angles round, and in a variety

of strengths, so that the very fire itself was sculpted, like

all the exquisite hand-work to come, by the mind of the god;

and as he worked, now this one, now that, would breathe fiercer

and harder; and when he paused, all paused; so in every way

his bellows worked for him spontaneously without him turning

his head, so that his hand-work could come to completion at speed.

On the fire he put adamant bronze, and tin, and precious gold

and silver; then, with his massive arms, he lowered an anvil,

huge and heavy, onto the anvil-block. Then in the one hand

he took up an enormous hammer, and in the other he held

the fire-tongs.

First he hammered out a thick, round circumference of a shield,

embellishing it cunningly in every way; and every part

of the surface was covered over in brilliant adornment.

Round about the whole he fit a shining rim, triple-layered,

and bright enough to blind; then he fashioned and attached

to it a silver shield-strap. This shield was heavy, five layers

thick. And its surface was exquisite with carven adornment

from his artful, careful fingers.

Thereon he incised out the earth; thereon the heavens; thereon

the waves of the sea; and the indomitable sun, and the moon

at fullest round; then he touched the picture with the heavenly

stars, and the constellations that crown the heavens in serene

encirclement : the Pleiades, and the Hyades, and mighty

hunter Orion; and the Bear, that people down below also

call the Plough, and the Bent Plough, and the Big Dipper,

and the Great Wagon, and the Great Wheels and Carriage,

and many other names, all for these magical seven stars,

which ever-circle in place and watch hunter Orion, and

never sink into the waters of Oceanus, and leave us.

Thereon he carved two cities of men and women, beautiful

mortals, all. In the one, he arranged marriages and holiday

feasts; and, by the glow of blazing torch-light, they were bringing

the bride from her chamber through the city, awaking the loud

bridal song. Young men in the dance spun round, and among them

the lyres and pipes sang continuously; and each woman

stood in her doorway and smiled. But, not far away from this,

the people at the place of assembly were quarrelling :

two men were contending over the price paid for a dead man.

The killer declared he had repaid the debt in full, and spoke

out his cause to the people; but the other denied he had

received all that justice demanded. So both demanded

arbitration, and a fair decision of authority.

Meanwhile the people around them were shouting out, pleading

for one side or the other, and the officers held them back.

There, then, sat the elders, gathered upon the polished stones,

and, in a solemn circle, with staffs of office in their hands,

they deliberated on the dispositions of the people.

And a loud-voiced herald stood nearby, to deliver judgments

to the people, each contention in turn. And in the middle

of the circle lay two pieces of gold, for he who delivered

the most admired decision of wisdom.

But circling the other city were two armies of men

in glittering armour. Now the one army was debating

whether to obliterate the city and be done with it,

or to gather up all the property first, and divide it

out justly among the warriors, all the lovely treasures

gathered inside the city. But the city was having none

of this, and had armed themselves in secret, and planned to ambush

the enemy. Women and the little children stood on the

city wall, as a last defence, beside the men of old age;

but all the others had gone, led by Ἄρης and Athena.

These gods herein were fashioned of gold, and over their figures

the artist had put golden garments of wondrous detail.

Beautiful and strong were the two gods in their armour, and stood

out from the rest, for all the people at their feet were smaller.

So when the company had come to the place that seemed perfect

to execute their ambush, a river-bank, which happened to serve

as watering-place for all sorts of herds, there the men sat down

in their flaming bronze. Then, hidden in the carving, were two spies,

sent by the army to scout out the flocks of sheep, and herds

of twist-horned cattle. And all these came, followed by herdsmen

playing on pipes. There were two of them, and suspected nothing.

Now the state of things was the following : those men lying in wait

saw the herdsmen coming. Straightaway they intercepted them,

cutting them off from the herds of cattle and flocks of fair sheep;

then without much ado they killed the two of them. Meanwhile

the enemy army, gathered together at their speaking-place,

heard many groanings coming from those herds of cattle;

so straightaway some men swung onto their horses, and set out

on the way, and soon came to the full weight of their opponent.

Both sides, then, assembled into lines, and fought beside the banks

of a river, and cut each other down with bronze-pointed spears.

Chaos and Discord descended on unfurléd wings, and joined

the battle; with the Goddess of Death, a visitor of Fate

who swoops in, to carry away souls in her arms. Now she laid

hold onto one man alive but just wounded, on another

wholly unhurt, and on one more, a third, who was dead, and she

dragged all three by their heels through the tumult around them, leaving

track-marks with their heavy bodies, while the Goddess’ robes

ran dark with the blood of men, all the way up to her shoulders.

And the careful artist placed soft, deep-soiled earth, rich, fertile

fallow-land, three-times turned up by the plough, there on the shield.

Thereon were many ploughmen driving their yokes this way and that,

up and back. And whenever they came to the limit-fence, they

spun round. Then a boy would run up with a cup of honey-sweet

wine; and the ploughmen would drain their cups to the lees,

then eagerly continue to turn the soil up to the next

limit. And the field grew dark under the plough—though, truly,

all of it was made of gold. This shading-work behind the moving

ploughs was a wondrous touch of the artist’s hand.

Thereon he also incised out a king’s royal domain, to

complement the common field of the community. There, day-

labourers were reaping, bearing the sharp sickle in their hands.

Handful after handful of grain were tumbling to the earth

in ordered lines, along the swathe they cut, while the binders

of the sheaves followed close behind, gathering up the riches

with plaited ropes of straw. Small boys would pick up all the handfuls,

then hand the armfuls to the trio of binders, over and over;

and this process went quickly. And, standing among them, the king,

his sceptre of authority in hand, watched the growing swathe

with joy in his heart. Nearby, his ministers were preparing

a feast under an oak tree, and were seasoning a great ox

felled in sacred sacrifice; and the women sprinkled white crushed

barley over all of it, for the labourers’ afternoon meal.

Thereon he also placed a vineyard, its trailing vines weighed

down by heavy clusters of grapes, a beautiful golden spot.

The grapes were bunched dabs of black, while the vines hung on silver

poles, in a line surrounded by a trench elaborated

in a beautiful blue; and he put around that, as if hammered in,

a fence of green-tinged tin. One lone pathway led to this spot,

where the bearers of the grapes proceeded to and fro, when they

harvested the vintage. Maidens, light-hearted virginal girls,

skipped beside the youthful boys, as they carried the wickerwork

baskets abundant with honey-sweet fruit. Then among them came

a child with a many-stringed lyre voicing itself clearly,

and he moved his fingers along the parallel strings, singing

the song of Linos, a mythical minstrel from long ago.

To his charming voice, all together they stamped their feet,

and with cries of joy they followed on, and frisked in the dance.

Thereon he also carved in a herd of straight-hornéd cattle.

The cattle were made of gold and tin, beautifully composed;

and with their deep lowings they processed from cow-yard

to a grassy place of pasturage beside a rushing river,

its current joyfully rushing through swaying thickets of reeds.

Golden were the herdsmen, who marched in ranks together

with the cattle. There were four of them, and nine frisky dogs

came with them. Terrible, however, to look upon were two

lions at the front of the line of cattle, holding in their jaws

a loud-bellowing bull. The lions proceeded to drag the bull

away, and the dogs pursued with the young men. The lions’

teeth had pierced the wall of bull’s hide, and were greedily gulping

up, and swallowing down, the innards, and the dark blood, while

the herdsmen set the dogs on them. But the dogs slunk back :

sometimes lurching forward to bite, then stopping themselves.

They kept away, though every lost bite stung them at heart.

All they did was bark and howl and keep back from the monsters.

Then the artist, his body hobbled at birth, a drab inheritance,

carved thereon a beautiful green place of pasturage, in a fair

place : and inside the farmyard were shining white sheep;

and huts, some open-aired, some covered over; and also pens.

Then the artist skilfully fashioned a dance-floor, recalling

the one that Daedalus in Cnosus had made for fair-haired

Ariadne, all those years ago. Youths were dancing; and girls,

their fathers rich in cattle, had joined themselves each to each,

with fingers dropped lightly upon the next one’s wrist.

These ripe maidens wore fine linen garments, while the boys

wore tunics, well-spun and scented faintly of oil, which gives

clothing a shine. The girls wore wreaths upon their charming heads,

while the boys wore daggers dangling from silver belts.

Now, with knowing feet, they danced in place exceedingly well,

in a round; just as in the open palms of a potter,

sitting over his wheel, just then he makes test of equipment

and skill, and all runs well, as if with the talent of the gods.

Now again the lines of dancers would run to one another;

and a great crowd had gathered round the passionate dance to watch,

and took great pleasure in the sight : and two acrobats tumbled

this way and that, up and down, as authors of the dance’s pace,

whirling in the centre of the bodies.

Then the artist placed atop the uttermost band of the rim,

that was layered in dense order round the well-composéd shield,

the mighty stream of strong Oceanus.

And when the shield, strong and dense, was done, then the artist made

the corslet with breastplate, both shining with the light of fire.

And the helmet, too, heavy and strong, and made to fit snugly

to the temples of its wearer’s forehead (just that so skilfully

wrought), and marvellous to see, for it was beautifully

decorated with a terrifying crest of horse-hair, fixed

in a socket of gold; and he made the leg-armour to follow

the contours of the hero’s long and mighty legs.

So when the immortal artist had completed his work,

all that shining armour, he limped with it back to the goddess

Thetis, mother of Achilles. So she soared down from the white

peaks of Olympus, and raised up all that glittering treasure,

and carried off the beautiful art from the house of Hephaestus.

End of Book XVIII of Homer's Iliad, translated by JSB (2022).

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

Love Gives Life.

Jeff Bernstein · February 20, 2023

63

An elegantly clever visual reminder for the audience : the blossoms on the tree resemble snowflakes.

Note the sign : Mrs. Kane’s Boarding House.

Not “Mr. Kane’s Boarding House”. Not “Kanes’ Boarding House”. Not “The Kane Boarding House”.

This detail underscores the powerful presence of Mary Kane in the Kane family. Kane’s father, the masculine element, is reduced in scope and responsibility in light of the female element. Every single day this imbalance of the masculine-feminine will have been reinforced to the young Charlie Kane—simply by the sign itself, let alone whatever took place inside the homestead in terms of familial interaction.

Theory : The adult Kane’s masculine aggression—in all things it had to be his way or the highway—may stem in part from the subordination of the masculine element in his childhood. His entire adult life is an endeavor to regain the male-female balance. Since his childhood began tipped toward the Female element, his adulthood compensated by tipping dramatically toward the Male.

This theory is only a piece of the puzzle of Kane’s psyche—Because his sternness and obstinancy also has another, less complex explanation : it is simple emulation of the mother.

To recapitulate : The adult Kane’s implacable stubborness stems from (a) the deep impression inside him of his mother’s stern, cold character; (b) a seeking to find and maintain within himself a synchronous masculine element that his weak father failed to cultivate in him; (c) and whatever else we arrive at as we continue this commentary.

His once best friend Jedediah Leland, reminiscing with the irritable wisdom of age, remarks to the newsman : “He never believed in anything except Charlie Kane.” (50:44)

Let us remember that Leland’s head is a snakepit of grudges and self-loathing and whatever else. “That’s one of the greatest curses ever inflicted on the human race,” he tells the newsman. “Memory” (49:40).

Still and all, (obviously?) one reason behind what Leland remembered as Kane’s indomitable self-absorption was Kane’s childhood abandonment. Abandonment taught the young Kane a powerful life lesson : If he doesn’t fight for himself, no one will.

We speak here of snakepits, of curses, of abandonment, of weak men, of overbearing mothers, of loss : yet how quaint a Situation we see! Mrs. Kane’s Boarding House. The rendering of the location presents us with a homestead so neat and composed that one might assume the portrait an idealization of the truth. The point just here is that the Horrible exists behind the lovely surface. We call this Life.

Jeff Bernstein · February 21, 2023

64 Prefatory Matter : The English Language

Running time (6:20–6:35) is the four-shot Childhood section of the Newsreel :

61 : the civic sign and distant town

62 : the mother-son photograph

63 : the Kane homestead

and now 64.

Over these four shots we hear :

NEWSREEL NARRATOR : “Famed in American legend is the origin of the Kane fortune. How, to boarding housekeeper Mary Kane, by a defaulting boarder, in 1868, was left the supposedly worthless deed to an abandoned mineshaft : the Colorado Lode.”

No surprise : The Narrator’s second line is atrocious writing. Still and all, it’s suitable for a manipulative infotainment product. The audience follows the messy gloop of clauses and makes easy sense of it due to the Narrator’s guiding intonations. But that doesn’t justify the imbecility of the holier-than-thou Media, whose illiterate English, whether we like it or not, conditions to a significant degree the lingual faculties of the society it suckers in multiform ways which we can classify under the one rubric : Evil.

Let us recall a bit of Mark Twain’s guidance from his classic essay “Fenimore Cooper’s Literary Offenses” :

16. Avoid slovenliness of form.

17. Use good grammar.

18. Employ a simple and straightforward style.

What Twain determined James Fenimore Cooper’s writing to be fits perfectly here : “Its English [is] a crime against the language.”

Edited February 21, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein

Jeff Bernstein · February 21, 2023

64

64 closes out the four-shot Kane Childhood portion of the Newsreel. It evokes as many significations as one wishes to apply to it.

The upfront immediate meaning is clear : drama drama drama.

NEWSREEL NARRATOR : “Famed in American legend is the origin of the Kane fortune. How, to boarding housekeeper Mary Kane, by a defaulting boarder, in 1868, was left the supposedly worthless deed to an abandoned mineshaft : the Colorado Lode.”

On “worthless deed to an—”, the Newsreel cuts to 64 and the Narrator intones : “—abandoned mineshaft : the Colorado Lode.” Oooh. . . . And fade out.

This is a powerful story technique : The low-key reference to a magnitude.

Examples :

“A shadow of a magnitude” (Keats, “On Seeing the Elgin Marbles”)

“Some interruptions are too profound to disturb your composure.” (Norman Mailer, Tough Guys Don’t Dance, Ch.4)

The calm way Captain Kirk says “Raise shields” at a tense moment in Star Trek II : The Wrath of Khan (48:37)

The quick but low-key shift from wacky to serious in Amadeus (1984) : “My music.” (19:49)

The nonchalant way Willard waves his gun in Apocalypse Now at 1:28:01. (“Get out of there, Chef.”)

The glowing crucible is a remarkable sight in whatever context—visual evidence of an incredibly hot temperature. This shot conveys Power. This shot conveys Mastery Over the Elements.

The contrast between the cold mother and the hot liquid gold is noteworthy.

The endless making of gold bars = the endless piecing together of shot with shot to make the gold of CK.

(Sheer for-fun addendum to that last sentence : Coincidentally, the bar mould resembles the dimensions of a modern cinema screen, which, therefore, recalls, for example, the monolithic film-screen shape of the windows at 37:25 in 2001: A Space Odyssey).

The endless streams of liquid gold and smoke : a Lynchian motif of the engine of art in action (e.g., the recurring imagery of the operating harvesters in The Straight Story; also the mechanical duck in chapter 37 of Thomas Pynchon’s Mason & Dixon (1997)).

The bright white light of religiosity (e.g., the church in Little Salem). Speaking of Salem (MA): in the early days of America, wealth was understood as God’s blessing, as his favorable judgment on the wealthy. (Recollection : In John Winthrop, “A Model of Christian Charity” (1630), the early Amercian leader theorizes, using quotes from the Good Book, that God blesses some with riches so that the wealthy can afford “help to another in every want or distresse.”)

The bright white light of religiosity. Mother Mary Kane, however, is seen only in black in CK.

“He’s flowing, Gordo!” (Wall Street, 18:50)

Edited February 21, 2023 by Jeff Bernstein