Month: April 2017

Latest Finds: Poetry, Fiction, Etc.

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

I found some great books recently at the UofU’s book sale. I plan on reading these books over the summer and thought I’d make a list of them for my readers.

Poetry

The POETRY Anthology 1912-1977 (Sixty-Five Years of America’s Most Distinguished Verse Magazine) Edited by Daryl Hine and Joseph Parisi

Poets on Poetry Edited, with an Introduction, by Charles Norman

The Contemporary Poet as Artist and Critic eight symposia Edited by Anthony Ostroff

Critical Analysis

(Twentieth Century Views) Yeats: A collection of Critical Essays Edited by John Unterecker

(Twentieth Century Views) T.S. Eliot: A collection of Critical Essays Edited by Hugh Kenner

Fiction

Loot at the Harlequins! By Vladimir Nabokov

Vladimir Nabokov: Selected Letters 1940-1977 Edited by Dmitri Nabokov and Matthew J. Bruccoli

 

I subscribe and get POETRY magazine, and when I found the anthology (listed above) I was elated!

I am a big fan of reading Critical Essays, especially when I am really familiar with most of the writer’s works. The ‘Twentieth Century View’ books in particular are my favorites. I recently read one on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s works and it was pretty amazing.

I am a lover of Vladimir Nabokov and have been for a long time now. I always find his books to be kind of pricey in local bookstores so when I found these two books (in brand new condition) for $1 each I was super stoked!

If I finish any of these soon and feel like doing a short response/reflection, I will post one under the ‘Poetry’ tab.

 

If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing! I hope you return in the future!

-Alina

Short Story: An Encounter (contains profanity and gore)

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet4 Comments

Here is a short story I wrote for a writer’s club competition that was declined. I’ve been thinking about this story a lot recently and was considering rewriting a few parts and expanding. I decided to post the original here, in case I post ‘An Encounter: Version #2’ when I make edits. This is to show readers the creative process involved in writing and the decisions that I make as a writer.

 

approx. word count: 1,200

 

An Encounter 

by Alina Hansen (original work, all rights reserved)

 

I brought Mark here so I’d get fucked in a haunted house. He was too scared; too freaked to even kiss me. This is why I should’ve brought Josh instead; Josh was down for anything. Doesn’t matter now. I’m screaming, Marks screaming and there is something cold attached to my arm. I look back and there is the woman in the corner holding onto each of us. I feel her nails digging into my skin and with a shudder and snap I hear the bone break in my arm.

Should’ve brought Josh, he carries a gun and I left my pepper spray in my purse in the car. I fall and I’m in something wet; it takes me a moment to realize it’s that girl’s blood. Her body is only a few feet away, her neck is torn out. I think Mark pissed himself, he’s curled up, face down and shaking. I’ve had broken bones before, comes with being an athlete and even though it fucking hurts I scramble to get up. The woman hasn’t moved she is just staring at us. She looks sickly with her face and dress covered in blood. This psycho’s gonna kill us too.

There’s a table leg on the ground a few feet away next to some broken beer bottles. I get on my knees and crawl with one hand, my broken arm useless. I’m waiting for her to come up behind me, to grab me again but I keep moving hoping I have just enough time to get that table leg. I fall forward, my face hitting the floor, my fingers wrap around the wood, and I pull it towards me. I can see a few nails sticking out of the end.  I stumble as I get up. I brace myself against the wall and turn around. The woman’s now crouched over mark and I hear him whimpering. I can’t see her face but her hand is poised in the air, her nails long and sharp. I take a breath and scream, lunging at her. I swing the leg at her head and she looks up just in time for connection. The woman howls and jumps back from Mark. The table leg stuck in her head, the nails digging into her eye and forehead. She grasps the wood and scuttles into the next room.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit I’m going to die! I’m going to die and I had a chance to fuck Jenny! Fuck fuck fuck fuck it hurts! That thing broke my arm! Is that blood? Oh my god it’s blood! I’m lying in blood! Should’ve convinced Jenny to go back to my place, why’d we have to come here?! I can’t look; it’s staring at me, those eyes, those dark eyes like an animal. Like the time we went to the zoo and the new exhibit had a black panther. The panther was just pacing, its eyes on the kids, big black eyes just glued to the little bodies and everyone could feel the hunger just emanating from it and they all laughed nervously pointing at the caged killer.

Jenny grabbed my hand, put it on her tit and told me to kiss her. Then the sound of someone walking up the steps, outside the house, opening the door; sound of girls giggling. Jenny said, ‘Be quiet and we’ll scare them.’ We waited we waited until the kissing stopped then she asked why I was breathing heavily. I wasn’t. There was a muffled cry and a crunch. We saw the woman her face buried in the neck of the girl and then the blood, the blood, all that blood. I looked at Jenny and her eyes were glued on them. I grabbed Jenny’s face and forced her to look at me. I tried to mouth the words, ‘We’ve got to get out of here!’ but she tore her face out of my hand and whispered, ‘Where’d she go?’ I looked back and the woman disappeared; the girl’s body motionless on the floor.

I hear a scuffle and scream then a howl right above me. I look up and there’s a club stuck in the things head, I can see nails in its eye. It moves back into a dark room.

“Mark get up! GET UP!” Jenny’s pulling me up and we’re running out of the house.

The car’s about a mile up the road. Jenny’s running ahead of me, she’s in better shape. Jenny’s yelling back at me, “Run! Dammit! RUN MARK!”

That little bitch blinded me! I want her dead! I want her and that little worm of a man! They ruined it! Ruined my night! I don’t want their blood, I want them dead!

I see the car. She’s opening the door and getting in, starting the car. I get in. The car tires squeal and we speed away. There’s a loud crash on top of the car, the car jerks to the left almost veering off the road.  I look up and the hood’s dented inward almost touching our heads. Jenny’s yelling at me to call the cops. She’s speeding up and I’m screaming as I see the long claws of that thing reaching down over the windshield.

Blood pools like sweet honey around the edges of my mouth. It overflows and I feel like the sun is inside me and I’m radiant, glowing with life. Her hair falls softly to the side as her head slumps against my chest. Her hair is so beautiful, looks like gold. I push her aside and she falls to the ground. My dress is stained with blood. How could I resist her? My affections have always been toward fresh young women with a glimmer of innocence, a shine behind the eyes; a heart not yet broken. Oh how sweet! Yes! I can still taste her on my mouth. I can feel the rush of heat spreading from my stomach to my arms and legs.

This house is dilapidated and shudders with every movement I make. A wonderful abandoned home on the edge of town to attract teens for sex, drugs and spiritual encounters. I hear a rustle in the next room, a scuffle of feet and whispers. I slip into a corner. I can hear them now; I think it’s a boy and girl. They’re muttering to themselves, I smell dirt and a hint of sweat. In a rush, there is a crash and a stampede of footsteps running for the doorway beside me. The house trembles in excitement. My instincts take over and I snatch them in the darkness, their screams bellow in pure terror hurting my ears. I tighten my grip, breaking one bone then another. I release them and they fall to the floor.

THE END

 

 

If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my work! I hope you return in the future!

-Alina

Movie Review: T2 (Trainspotting 2)

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

WARNING: SPOILERS ALERT

T2 Trainspotting Poster

(source: imdb.com)

The shots, cuts and camera angles used in T2 reflect the style and tone of Trainspotting (1996). Paired with a gritty soundtrack that ranges from classics-remixed or toned down- from Trainspotting and contemporary music, the film exudes in its technique the theme of T2; nostalgia and coming to terms with your past.

Returning to Edinburgh, Renton decides to make amends and pay back his friends whom he betrayed twenty years ago (except Begbie, who he avoids at all costs). What he finds is Sick Boy and Spud doing exactly what they were doing when he left, and Begbie still in prison (soon to break free).

T2 follows Renton and the crew ‘getting together’ one last time in an epic junkie battle of revenge and heart wrenching flashbacks of adolescent beginnings. Emphasizing on nostalgia for a past that has died and gone to junkie heaven, T2 artistically echoes key moments that made Trainspotting  unforgettable; ‘Choose Life’ speeches, Renton colliding with vehicles, Begbie and his love for violence, Spud as the loved and innocent junkie of the crew and Sick Boy (Simon) still working as a con artist and thief. Although it echoes similar actions in Trainspotting, it does not feel like T2 is copying these actions in an attempt to ride the waves of what made it popular in the first place. The repeated or similar actions feel like they stand on their own, echoing maybe the message that sometimes you are always doomed to repeat yourself.

What is added to the mix is the role of Veronica, a young twenty something whose expertise in sex and her partnership (girlfriend?) with Sick Boy puts her at the center of an old man dog fight over events that probably happened when she was just a toddler. Veronica in the book Porno (by Irvine Welsh, and sequel to Trainspotting) has more parts and prevalence as a sex worker who later works for Sick Boy in his venture of creating Pornographic films above his bar. These parts are changed and toned down in the movie T2 and Veronica is portrayed as a possibly more ‘clean’ woman to audiences but in the end she does exactly what she does in Porno; taking the torch from the generation before her of “First there is opportunity, then there is Betrayal.”(imdb.com). I think by toning down Veronica in T2 Danny Boyle may have taken into consideration just how much grit and slime audiences can take (creating an R-Rated film versus a neon flashing NC-17).

Although I was curious from the instant I heard about T2 and after reading the book Porno just how much of book would be in T2, I am satisfied with this cookie cutter version which is easier to swallow for most, although I definitely craved more of the book in the end.

Overall, T2 holds true to Trainspotting as an art device used for social critique and exposure of the disgusting but often real underbelly of modern life (a predominant trait of Irvine Welsh’s works). With added references and use of today’s technology and comments on how ‘conning’ can’t be done like how it used to be, T2 shows the evolution of  addiction, lies, and thievery in our present day in a heart-wrenching story of opportunity and betrayal among best friends.

 

I could write more on T2 and go into depth on certain key scenes/aspects that stood out to me but I will have to think about this. I do plan on seeing T2 again and in the theatre so I can enjoy the big screen experience and if after watching it for a second time I do decide to do another reflection I will post one, probably longer (long long read) and in a couple of weeks.

 

(sources: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2763304/?ref_=nv_sr_1, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0117951/?ref_=nv_sr_2 )

 

If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing. I hope you return in the future!

-Alina

Announcement: Working on Movie Review for T2

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

In response to my first post Returning to Trainspotting: The Release of T2 I am working on a reflection of T2 which I did go and see a couple days ago. All I can say right now is, heart-wrenching. 

I hope to have the reflection polished, done and posted within the next few days. It will appear on my homepage and under the tab ‘Film, Music, Art’.

Thank you!

-Alina

P.S. On a side note, I am also working on another reflection in response to a suggestion given by a follower, “...phenomenology and its effect on how we treat the body in poetry“. THANK YOU FOR THE SUGGESTION tmbenjamin10 !!!

Freehand Poem #2: Poetry

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

Context:

The weather recently in Salt Lake City has been rainy. April is usually a stormy month but is highlighted with a few sparse days with sunshine. Recently a new law was passed that will be in effect starting next year.

Today is a rainy day.

 

Thunder echoing back against the sky, the grey clouds heavy with

rain, with snow, with the salty sadness that permeates this place.

And the white stuck to the mountain tops slides down, running water

at trickling speeds. Can’t hear the rivers rushing but the gutter will

be full soon enough, of wrappers and cans floating in sandy water.

And the flashes of lightning striking down upon us will illuminate

and desecrate this ‘promise land’. Bitterness in my heart towards

the laws that keeps a boot on my neck, shoveling beliefs in my face that

were never mine. Waiting for the rain to come and wash this shit city

away, glittering on its pedestal of ‘righteousness’.  That rumor I heard

that church and state are two different things was a fucking lie. This wasn’t

supposed to be a rant, this wasn’t supposed to be vengeful but the anger

in my heart is  there, echoing back against the sky, the grey clouds heavy

with smiling oppression.

 

Working on this piece. It’s more of a response to Governor Gary Herbert’s recent law that was passed. Starting next year anything .05% and above on a breathalyzer test (less than one beer) will result in a DUI. Next to the ridiculously strict liquor laws in this state (among other things) SLC is city were church and state are so obviously not separate.

 

If you’re reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing! I hope you return in the future!

-Alina