After the Horror
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How could one ever imagine marrying horror and art, not the gut wrenching populist kind of horror but the gut wrenching real kind of horror? Yet various arts and various artists found the respectful and respectable way of doing it, applying individual filters to relevant horrific events and rather than turning them into tear wrenching soaps, they turned them into tear wrenching monuments. If in painting with Picasso applying abstract to his Guernica, if in poetry with Yevtushenko applying poetry tools to his Babi Yar, if in cinema with Benigni applying comedy to his La Vita e Bella, if in nove...
How could one ever imagine marrying horror and art, not the gut wrenching populist kind of horror but the gut wrenching real kind of horror? Yet various arts and various artists found the respectful and respectable way of doing it, applying individual filters to relevant horrific events and rather than turning them into tear wrenching soaps, they turned them into tear wrenching monuments. If in painting with Picasso applying abstract to his Guernica, if in poetry with Yevtushenko applying poetry tools to his Babi Yar, if in cinema with Benigni applying comedy to his La Vita e Bella, if in novels with Bassani applying routine to his Il Giardino dei Finzi-Contini, and so many others. I claim absolutely no right for resting in the shadow of such giants. All I do is tell my horror my way. Yes, my people, my horror, my October.
