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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.

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Tuesday, September 06, 2016

entry arrow9:14 PM | "I Feel Nothing"

Artists can be vampires, and writers most of all. And sometimes the surging ego of genius dictates that people in their lives must be consumed, and then discarded. (This was a running theme in Dean Alfar's novel Salamanca.) I know some writers who are exactly like this. In Genius (2016), Michael Grandage's respectable -- if plodding -- exploration of the relationship between the writer Thomas Wolfe and the editor Maxwell Perkins, we see the illustration of such a man. Not only does Wolfe treat Perkins, the man who championed his work when no one else would, with such vampiric discard, he did the same with other people who dared to love him -- most especially the artist and writer Aline Bernstein, who took care of him while he wrote Look Homeward, Angel. In this scene, Aline finally closes the door between them, in what for me is the most resonant scene in the film.

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