Letters

Letter Of The Week
Good as Fein-gold

Re Michael Feingold's "Far From Tennessee," about the new staging of The Glass Menagerie [April 1, villagevoice.com]: Feingold is not only a brilliant critic and writer with an artist's soul, he has finally said what needs to be said to these producers. As a playwright who has written a bio-play on Tennessee Williams, I am particularly protective of the master's works and highly sensitive to their seemingly constant abuse and misinterpretations. I was so relieved to read Feingold's critique, as I felt much of my own anguish expressed. Every word of his article is spot-on: It is not only truth—brutal and essential and ultimately beautiful—but with regard to these simpleton producers and bankers who are running New York theater today, what desperately needed to be declared.


Original spin

I am truly insulted that Raquel Cepeda chose to downplay the role of reggae in the new phase of reggaetón ["Riddims by the Reggaetón," March 30-April 5].I listen to reggaetón and all I hear is reggae beats to Spanish words. Rap is not a separate entity from reggae—it is one and the same. It was started by a Jamaican fellow. The basement parties that Jamaicans used to have became rap—turntables plus DJ, and the tradition of storytelling passed on to us by our African ancestry. It is not, as is stated in the article's subhead, "Puerto Rico's hip-hop hybrid." Jamaicans transplanted to Panama brought their music and culture with them, as people who move often do.

L. Boreland
Brooklyn

Raquel Cepeda replies: Panama's melassa, their flavor if you will, is inspired mostly by dancehall and reggae. Reggaetón from Puerto Rico, as it was told to me by one of the founders and its "king," Tego Calderón, was not directly connected to or inspired by the Panamanian rama, or line. It was inspired by reggae, more so hip-hop, and especially the tropical rhythms of Puerto Rican bomba y plena, salsa, and with Tego specifically, Cuban guaguanco—an Afro-Cuban form of rumba.


Beaten to a pulp

J. Hoberman makes the error of claiming Sin City owes its structure to Pulp Fiction ["Dark Night Returns," March 30-April 5].

The first collected version of Sin City appeared in 1993. Pulp Fiction appeared in 1994. Frank Miller already had a few Sin City stories in the works by that point, and he was already constructing a world where characters' paths meshed across books. Frames from one story line would appear in another story line in the graphic-novel series. You could read A Dame to Kill For and The Big Fat Kill and recognize these interconnections before Pulp Fictionever made it to the screen.

Also, every audience member who's familiar with any of the genres the Sin City narrative emerges from will see some new twists in their treatments. The femmes fatales of film noir are not here to ensnare the protagonists, but work with them, and the protagonists are not the weaker-than-they-thought-they-were men of the '40s who find themselves caught in something bigger than they can deal with. The honor in this film is not to be found with those who uphold a kind of social right, but with its underside—not those who uphold justice, but those who seem to stand outside it. And the gratuitous violence of the horror comics genre is oblique and never without some kind of audience recuperation element—a joke, a different kind of angle and lighting, the way the shot is cut.

Joley R. Wood
Charlottesville, Virginia


Love in a time of colonic release

Robert Christgau's review of Sarah Vaughan and Lucille Bogan's records [Recyclables, March 30-April 5]is insulting, offensive, and just plain gross. Is it insightful in any way for a review of such seminal records from the earlier half of last century to include such asides as Christgau's comments on his skid marks and his fantasies of Lucille saying to him, "I'll do it to you honey till I make you shit"? (Christgau wouldn't have had a chance with either of them while they were alive.) If it's supposed to be funny, it isn't. It's totally bizarre, and he comes across as a dirty old man.

Peter Munro
Auckland, New Zealand

 

Robert Christgau replies: Munro is entitled to his refined tastes—metaphor can be a bitch sometimes. But he should be aware that "I'll do it to you honey till I make you shit" is a direct quote from the Bogan record reviewed.


Sticks and stones

In "Time for a Prayer Circle" [April 6-12]Kristen Lombardi raised objections around the issue of medical professionals denying abortion services, and around discrimination based on sexual orientation. She cites several cases, but it seems like most of these problems can be solved easily. A nurse who refuses to give a morning-after pill: Hospitals have more than one nurse, and I doubt that every single nurse in a hospital would refuse to give a morning-after pill to a rape victim. The Jerry Falwell-esque counselor: That, as Richard Foltin of the American Jewish Committee points out, would clearly be a hardship. The Chicago police officer who didn't want to protect an abortion clinic: Cops protect buildings and people that are under threat; the superiors should see if they can task another cop without jeopardizing the safety of the overall community. If not, he has to do it. The Ohio pharmacist: I'm sure there is more than one pharmacist in the state of Ohio. The Idaho tech worker: He posted anti-gay scripture? That's what we're worried about? A few homophobic lines out of a religious text? And because of that, while extremely offensive,we're going to limit someone's religious freedom? If we ban religious speech in the workplace because it is offensive, we might as well make George W. Bush not say anything when he is on government property. While both prospects would be very pleasing, they violate our right to free speech. It always starts out with the hated—the homophobes and the idiot presidents. Then it expands to everyone. Speech doesn't hurt. Actions do. If that same worker were to hit a gay co-worker over the head, then we'd have a legal issue. Until then, the guy's just being a total prick, not a criminal.

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