How I Died as a Blogger

By now, you can see how I’ve tried to assist your belief in resurrection from the dead.  (What a Phoenix wannbe, you should say.)  Or maybe you’ve come to doubt all writers’ intentions.  (When are you finally going away, you must say.)

I just finished The Hours by writer Michael Cunningham, in English.  Kept wondering how Mrs. Dalloway was going to die again, and how tragically Mrs. Woolf; and whether Mrs. Brown, with her own rock in her pocket walking into the river – a metaphorical rock mind you – was going to kill herself at all in the end.  I kept wondering, in the hours, whether Jane Stranz would think these chapters, their episodes, were “improbably long.”   She, if she were reading the novel, could rather find herself engaged in Die Stunden and Les Heures and The Hours. Of all people, Jane could tell us whether the author, Michael Cunningham, is accurate and intentional enough, when he claims that all three of these works are “actually unique works in their own right.”

Please, Jane, tell us. I’m dying to know.

Is this novel in German translation, or in French, really the same novel?

Are these three books, bound by a single author’s intention for one novel, instead, rather, different, all unique works? Is Mrs. Brown different in German? Does Mrs. Dalloway in French start by saying she would buy the flowers herself or does she, in a much different way, like a Spaniard decide without saying so? (“La señora Dalloway decidió que ella misma compraría las flores”) Will Mrs. Woolf always, as Maureen Howard says she does, write with “the confidence of the writer”?

Please, Jane, tell us. I’m blogging to know.

If you must know how I died as a blogger, then note it was on Halloween. A trick or treat. If you must understand how I died as a blogger, then see how David Ker is blogging it, as an author, with intention, in English only. Did he do it himself, without assistance, did he leave a note, which languages did he use, did he give a translation, was it dynamically equivalent, did he commit the heresy of explanation, did he offer footnotes, did he remember all of his blogger friends, did he forget to name one, was his note long, did he say it was for personal reasons or professional, did he resort to logic above person in the end, did the witch of endor get his email address, why was Exodus 33:11 his favorite verse in the Bible, why was he okay with the septuagint translation of it, why did he agree that the book of J may have been written by a woman, and the book of hebrews too, why did he even use the made up word afrafeminism, why was he so difficult, why did he always insist that humans are above their language, their languages, that listeners and readers and translators get and give as much as speakers and writers, would he reply if somebody left a comment, and why are we reading his blog anymore?

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9 responses to “How I Died as a Blogger

  1. sometimes the great ones must hang them up. only to come back. ask brett favre and michael jordan.

  2. Pingback: Another More Progressive Biblioblogger Hangs ‘Em Up | Political Jesus

  3. And a very happy Samhain to you too!

    Speaking of the undead, zombies are popular all over these days.

    You’ve had a wordy (blog) death, true, but so did Hamlet — and he is counted among the legions of the children of the night.

    And even Mrs. Dalloway, despite dying twice, has risen from her grave and is selling books (in Berkeley, no less)?

    I look forward to your future “living dead” posts — because even in a blog grave, you’ll find the urge to write is irresistible (my only question: will your posts be here or on a new blog?).

  4. Pingback: Christian blogging | eChurch Christian Blog

  5. Thank you, Kurk. I’m going to keep you bookmarked, because you may start up the blog again; you’ve done so before 🙂

    If you take the blog private, please know I would welcome an invitation to be a reader.

    I’ve just finished reading Hauerwas’ memoir. He is so comical, without really meaning to be so, about trying to decide whether he is a Christian. He comes to the conclusion, at age 70, that he is, mainly because of the people in his life constituting him as such.

    When Christ God, the Giver of Life, raised all of the dead from the valleys of misery with His mighty hand, He bestowed resurrection on the human race; He is the Savior of all, the Resurrection, the Life, and the God of all. -Resurrection Kontakion, tone 6, Orthodox Ochtoechos

    Dana

  6. Pingback: Scripture in Community: The 12 year old girl knocked up by the Spirit | Unsettled Christianity

  7. Dear Kurk
    I nearly died as a blogger myself these past weeks – and for one brief moment I even thought I was dying in a non-virtual way. Also I hate to admit this but I have not read the Hours – in any language.

    I do not want you to stop blogging but I begin to realise that passionate as you have been about writing your brilliant blogs you want somehow to move on to something more – well just more I suppose … I’ve felt more this than any other how life can take over from blogging but I still love this medium and all that it has done to teach me taht I can write, that I am a writer…

    So I want to read a book by you Kurk please – don’t leave me this way! And I want it to be about murder and beauty and translation and delight in words and EVERYTHING – anyway I do want to go on reading more by you than simple facebook updates – which are fun but not that much fun!

    Take care my friend, I already miss you …
    Jane

  8. Oh no – I’ve just remembered I did read the hours – so long ago I’d forgotten about it – sigh …

  9. Pingback: Cleaning up the blogroll | Jack Of All Trades

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