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Kunst og arkitektur

IMAGE 91 (Winter 2016)

Now one of the leading literary journals published in English, IMAGE is read all over the world—and forms the nexus of a warm and active community. The publication seeks out and brings to its readers work of high artistic quality that engages with the historic faith traditions on a profound level, without easy answers or false uplift, and with a serious respect for beauty and truth.

United States
Image Journal
Les mer
1 År

I denne utgaven

8 min.
listening to silence

I ARRIVED AT THE ADVANCED screening of Martin Scorsese’s new film, Silence, in the worst possible frame of mind. I was running late, and I was starving. My only option for getting food in time was a fancy burger joint near the multiplex. After ordering a mega-burger and fries, I fidgeted at the table, waiting for my number to be called. Inhaling the smell of frying beef, I was painfully aware that Silence chronicles both the extreme poverty of Japanese peasants in the seventeenth century and the torture and execution of missionary priests and converts. Then a man staggered into the restaurant. He appeared both high and homeless. He began sidling up to people’s tables, as if to sit down beside them. I’ve seen this kind of thing before, and I knew…

10 min.
the ladder

THIS IS THE SEQUENCE of events that led to Peter Bumble’s downfall: in 1958, as you well know, the Totochabo regime came to power in a military coup that claimed the lives of thousands. Immediately following this, as a first order of business, stairs were declared outdated and no longer practicable for living. The lower stories were thus abandoned and turned over to the animals, while everything above ground floor was deemed wildly unsafe and best forgotten about altogether. This did not go over as well as the regime had hoped. Thousands more perished in the unrest. Totochabo consequently went one step further and in 1961 declared the use of stairs a punishable offense. A year later, ladders were outlawed, followed by elevators, airplanes, trampolines, cranes, stilts, and high-heeled shoes. Finally,…

2 min.
tom as a series of declaratives

Religion is a gesture of overt metaphor.Literature mostly accidental metaphorsthe writer meant as gestures. Momentspresupposed to be meaningful rarely are.Attention is the fourth wheel on a grocery cart,where the grocery cart is your mindand attention the one wheel not always touching,but it can swivel in its bearings and catch,allowing you to ricochet across the aisle,to slam your agile mind into a wallof crackers. When a man separates himselffrom others, it is unclear whether it makes himmore or less brave. Tom got sick bravely,collapsed in the A&P bravely & a stock boyphoned the ambulance bravely as Tomconvulsed in a pile. Here the metaphor falls apart,because Tom’s mind couldn’t be the cartwheel-down watching his body revolt,couldn’t be filled up to bring homeas bones became ill-fit for their cases.Metaphors house this strange sadness:a…

7 min.

JOSHUA WAS THE MOST corpulent man of his people. He would eat anything and everything edible that he laid eyes on: grasshoppers, fruit, eggs, meat, whether raw or cooked, plants and roots and ants; he was always chewing something. He would even devour bones and seedpods, since his eating knew no bounds. His corpulence was not only confidence-inspiring and majestic, it was larger than life, even supernatural. His name meant “God is salvation.” He ate not from normal hunger or greed. No, he ate because it was the essence of his being. Eating was his way of relating to his surroundings. God had made him a nibbler and a guzzler. He ate from love and impassioned benevolence; his progress through the world was motivated by an irresistible urge to infuse external…

2 min.
the girl and the fruit

One day, picking guavas with the girl,she lowered the branch and said to the air—unaware that she was teaching me— Guava is a blessed fruit. Her movement, her illuminated faceagitated the dust and spirit in the air:The Kingdom is within us;God dwells in us.There is no escaping the hunger of joy. Daughter of the Ancient Law God does not give me peace. God is my goad.He bites my heel like a snake,makes himself verb, meat, glass shard,stone against which my head bleeds.I cannot rest in this love.I cannot sleep in the light of this eye fixed on me.I want to return to my mother’s womb,her hand flat against her bloated belly,hiding me from God. The Scar The theologians all errwhen they describe God in their treatises.You sharpen me untilI could have made that irreparable cut.God will…

27 min.
presence in a space the flickering contradictions of martin puryear

IN 1997, THE ST. JAMES GUIDE TO BLACK ARTISTS called sculptor Martin Puryear a quiet revolutionary engrossed in the business of eroding art-world oppositions. “I would describe my usual working process as a kind of distillation—trying to make coherence out of things that can seem contradictory,” he says. “But coherence is not the same as resolution. The most interesting art for me retains a flickering quality, where opposed ideas can be held in a tense coexistence.” Contradiction, dichotomy, and paradox provide a perfect working space for Puryear: high art versus craft, western versus global culture, personal versus universal forms. In the space between poles, his imagination cycles freely. The pursuit of the unresolved energizes and satisfies him—and protects him, a mere mortal, from the heavy mantle of art-media titles like…