Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Vampire Milongas and Silent Readings



The first time I entered Salon Canning in Buenos Aires, I experienced the uncanny sensation of feeling like I had been instantly transported to an elitist vampire milonga (a tango dance) in the early twentieth-century, where coven members gathered to lure unsuspecting tourists into a den of chilling fantasy. Turning and staring as one unit when any homo sapiens entered the club, they danced with such eerie, preternatural grace it was almost unsettling to watch. Violins and bandoneons screeched stale music over hushed voices, sliding shoes, and sharp taps of stilettos. The mood was haughty, the air thick, and I just wanted to run the other direction – a legitimate self-preservation response to entering a vampire lair.

At Sorrento Hotel’s Silent Reading Night, I experienced a similar sensation of being transported – only this time I teleported to an elegant Old World gathering where society’s most distinguished elite convened to pore over Tennyson or Wordsworth. Well-tempered Baroque music glided through the fire-lit room, easing all manner of stress built up during the hectic day, as the pretty serving-girl brought tea, or scotch for the stronger palettes. A genteel affair reeking with haughtiness. What would happen, I wondered, if I set my cup down too loudly, or started vigorously chewing gum, or sounded a barbaric yawp? I was half-tempted to do it, just to see their reactions!

Like I felt in that pompous milonga in Buenos Aires, it was all a bit too sterile, too staged and elitist for me to really feel comfortable. I’m with Walt Whitman, who said, “I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable”. Give me the salty throng of La Viruta (another milonga); give me entranced spectators waving their bodies as musicians let their souls bodysurf over upstretched arms; give me the epic roar of live electronic musicians summoning absolute wizardry before my eyes. Those are the experiences I truly love.

I do, however, also enjoy the occasional vampire milonga or silent reading night – after all, there are worse ways to spend an evening.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Are you sure there are worse ways to spend an evening? Enjoy your blog!

Anonymous said...

What can one say about this blog? It could be contrasted to a young frightened girl emerging from the sylvan wood with hands over eyes only to open them and find that the lore of the wood continues to cling to her like a shadow.

Life offers us few chances to imbibe such dalliances once much less twice. I wonder if our Mermaid would have a different response if she had not seen Twilight or the return of Dracula, or had not donned a halloween costume and ventured out as a moon-kissed street urchin.

My mind is a mess right now because I am visualizing our author doing the tango across the floor with fake vampire teeth and crocheted blood veins bulging from her supine neck! Well, I have never seen a vampire quite like a Mermaid vamp anyway.

papito

Anonymous said...

What can one say about this blog? It could be contrasted to a young frightened girl emerging from the sylvan wood with hands over eyes only to open them and find that the lore of the wood continues to cling to her like a shadow.

Life offers us few chances to imbibe such dalliances once much less twice. I wonder if our Mermaid would have a different response if she had not seen Twilight or the return of Dracula, or had not donned a halloween costume and ventured out as a moon-kissed street urchin.

My mind is a mess right now because I am visualizing our author doing the tango across the floor with fake vampire teeth and crocheted blood veins bulging from her supine neck! Well, I have never seen a vampire quite like a Mermaid vamp anyway.

papito

Anonymous said...

Vampires are a-dime-a-dozen these days, but Mermaids will always be rare and sublime creatures indeed!

Anonymous said...

you know i'm better with the spoken word than the written.
so, i'll try to tell you (pressing letters on a keyboard and arranging them into words and sentences fails me) how i felt after reading several of your articles: i am so proud of you, kristen webster. not simply b/c of your writing ability, which is immense, but b/c of you. you're awesome!
i love you and hope to be a good brother.

jab

Anonymous said...

I imagine you fit into any setting, and that you reaped the benefit of the reading - but, like you, I prefer somewhat less stuffy affairs! Your writing continues to amaze this diletttante!