Monday, January 23, 2012

Tristes Tropiques, by Claude Lévi-Strauss

A famous work by Lévi-Strauss; the descriptions throughout are highly creative yet present to the reader very specific, memorable images. There were so many excellent examples I could choose from to write my imitation, that I simply had to choose the hardest one I could find:
In my imagination, I associated Brazil with clumps of twisted palm trees concealing bizarrely designed kiosks and pavilions, and I assumed the atmosphere to be permeated with the smell of burning perfumes, an olfactory detail which had no doubt crept in through an unconscious awareness of the similarity of sound between ‘Brésil’ and ‘grésiller’ (to splutter in burning), and which is more responsible than any actual experience for the fact that, even now, I think of Brazil first and foremost as a burning perfume.
Brazil compared to a burning perfume! I can’t even do it justice:
In my mind, I always associate the Columbia River Gorge with steep hills the color of sienna earth pigments spread all over with grey sagebrush beat down upon by an inescapable, hot sun, and always in the air, no matter which direction I face, an incessant wind, a textural reality that feels like it’s blowing right into me, filling me up, gorging me like the area’s namesake, Gorge, and this similarity is more responsible than anything else, for why, when I think of the Gorge, I think first and always of an incessant wind.