Horribly sad to learn about the death of Glenn Goluska, one of Canada’s greatest typographers. I had the good fortune to meet Glenn at a Gaspereau Press wayzgoose. Andrew let me run the Vandercook in his office, printing souvenirs for visitors to the shop and Glenn was there as backup. He gently offered pointers and suggestions throughout the afternoon, graciously stepping in to better articulate printing history when needed. I drove him to the airport the next day and we had a lovely conversation about printing/books/mutual friends. He was strikingly kind and generous. He told me he was hoping to make it down to Ottawa to visit with jwcurry and the letterpress/book arts folk but that never happened. Requieum, lovely Glenn, so glad to have met you and so sorry not to have had more time. More information and obits for Glenn:
A spread from Robert Kroetsch’s Liebhaber’s Wood Type (1987), GP blog entry, below
well you’re my friend
(it’s what you told me)
and can you see
(what’s inside of me)
many times
we’ve been out drinking
and many times
we’ve shared our thoughts
but did you ever, ever notice
the kind of thoughts I got
well you know I have a love
a love for everyone I know
and you know I have a drive
to live I won’t let go
but can you see its opposition
comes a-rising up sometimes
that it’s dreadful and position
comes blacking in my mind
and that I see a darkness
and that I see a darkness
and that I see a darkness
and that I see a darkness
and did you know how much I love you
is a hope that somehow you you
can save me from this darkness
well I hope that someday, buddy
we have peace in our lives
together or apart
alone or with our wives
that we can stop our whoring
and pull the smiles inside
and light it up forever
and never go to sleep
my best unbeaten brother
this isn’t all I see
She had soothly the balm of good odour and savour in conversation. And oil of devotion in mind, and also the benediction of grace.
Christine was born in Tyre in Italy, and was come of noble kindred of father and mother. And because of her beauty her father enclosed her in a certain tower, with twelve chamberers to serve and await on her. And ordained there, with her, gods of silver and gold. And because of her great beauty she was desired of many noble men for to have wedded her; but her father in no wise would give her to no man, but would have her continue in her virginity to do worship and sacrifice to the gods. But she being inspired of the Holy Ghost, abhorred the sacrifice of the idols, and the incense that was delivered to her to do sacrifice with, she hid it in a window.
…he commanded that her flesh should be all torn, and drawn with hooks of iron, and her tender members to be all to broken and departed from other. Christine then took part of her flesh and threw it in the visage of her father saying: O tyrant, take the flesh, which thou hast gotten, and eat it.
Then her father set her upon a wheel, and put under fire and oil, and the flame issued out so great that it slew and burnt five hundred men. The father ascribed all this work to necromancy, and said she had done that by witchcraft, and commanded her again to prison, and bade her servants when it was night, that they should bind a great stone to her neck and cast her into the sea. And anon, as they had so done, the angels took her up, and Christ descended, and baptized her in the sea. Her father heard that she was come again to land, he smote his forehead and said to her: By what witchcraft dost thou these things, that in the sea thou exercisest thy cursed works?
Then he commanded that she should be put in prison, and on the morn to be beheaded. And that same night Urban her father was found dead. Then after him followed and succeeded a wicked and evil judge, named Dion, which did do make a tub of iron, and did do put therein pitch, oil and rosin, and set them afire. And when it was ready, he made Christine to be cast therein, and made four men move the tub that she should be the sooner consumed. Then Christine praised God, and thanked him that she was so renewed, and rocked as a child in a cradle.
Then the judge being wroth made her head to be shaven, and naked to be led through the city unto the temple of Apollo, whom she commanded to overthrow, and anon fell down into powder. And when the judge heard thereof, he died and gave up his spirit.
After him Julianus succeeded, which did do set afire a great furnace, and Christine to be cast therein. Wherein she abode five days with angels, singing and walking unhurt, and after issued out thereof safely without harm. And when Julianus heard thereof, he said that she did all this by art magic and witchcraft, and did do be put to her two adders, two serpents, and two asps. The serpents licked her feet, the two asps hung at her breasts, and did her no harm, and the two adders wound them about her neck and licked up her sweat. Julianus then said to his enchanter: Art thou not an enchanter? Move the beasts. And when he began to move them they made assault to him and slew him forthwith.
Then Christine commanded that they should go to a desert place, and she raised the enchanter that was dead to life again, then Julianus commanded that her breasts should be cut off, out of whom flowed milk with blood. Then he made her tongue to be cut out of her head, but Christine lost not her speech for cutting out of her tongue, but took it and threw it in the visage of the judge and smote out therewith one of his eyes. Then was Julianus wroth and made to shoot at her.
And she was smitten with one arrow in the side, and with another unto the heart, and she so smitten yielded up her soul unto God.
And then of course, another, St. Christine(a), known as the Astonishing:
As chronicled by her contemporaries, she threw herself into burning furnaces and there suffered great tortures for extended time uttering frightful cries, yet coming forth with no sign of burning upon her. In winter she would plunge into the frozen Meuse River for hours and days and weeks at a time all the while praying to God and imploring His Mercy. She allowed herself to be carried by the currents down river to the mill where the wheel “whirled her round in a manner frightful to behold” yet she had no dislocations or broken bones. She was chased by dogs that bit and tore her flesh. She ran from them into thickets of thorns, and though covered in blood she would return with no wound or scar.
Removed a Lunachicks song here, “Binge and Purge” because the only versions I could find on youtube include bulimic photo montages that may be triggering for those sensitive. Although that isn’t my major problem with those images. I was more disturbed by the fetishistic nature of the photos: beautiful/coiffed/thin women perched near porcelain, in varying degrees of artistic disarray. Bulimic chic instead of heroin chic.
Wait Mister. Which way is home?
They turned the light out
and the dark is moving in the corner.
There are no sign posts in this room,
four ladies, over eighty,
in diapers every one of them.
La la la, Oh music swims back to me
and I can feel the tune they played
the night they left me
in this private institution on a hill.
Imagine it. A radio playing
and everyone here was crazy.
I liked it and danced in a circle.
Music pours over the sense
and in a funny way
music sees more than I.
I mean it remembers better;
remembers the first night here.
It was the strangled cold of November;
even the stars were strapped in the sky
and that moon too bright
forking through the bars to stick me
with a singing in the head.
I have forgotten all the rest.
They lock me in this chair at eight a.m.
and there are no signs to tell the way,
just the radio beating to itself
and the song that remembers
more than I. Oh, la la la,
this music swims back to me.
The night I came I danced a circle
and was not afraid.
Mister?
Lollai, lollai, litil child, whi wepistou so sore?
Nedis mostou wepe, hit was iyarkid the yore
Euer to lib in sorow, and sich and mourne euere,
As thin eldren did er this while hi aliues wore.
Lollai, lollai, litil child, child lolai, lullow.
Into vncuth world incommen so ertow.
Bestis and thos foules, the fisses in the flode,
And euch schef aliues imakid of bone and blode,
Whan hi commith to the world hi doth ham silf sum gode;
Al bot the wrech brol that is of Adam is blode.
Lollai, lollai, litil child, to kar ertou bemette;
Thou nost noght this worldis wild before the is isette.
Child, if betidith that thou ssalt thriue and the,
Thench thou were ifostred vp thi moder kne.
Euer hab mund in thi hert of thos thinges thre:
Whan thou commist, whan thou art and what ssal com of the.
Lollai, lollai, litil child, child lollai, lollai,
With sorow thou com into this world, with sorow ssalt wend awai.
Ne tristou to this world, hit is thi ful vo.
The rich he makith pouer, the pore rich also;
Hit turneth wo to wel and ek wel to wo.
Ne trist no man to this world, whil hit turnith so.
Lollai, lollai, litil child, thi fote is in the whele.
Thou nost whoder turne to wo other wele.
Child, thou ert a pilgrim in wikidnis ibor,
Thou wandrest in this fals world, thou loke the bifor.
Deth ssal com with a blast vte of a well dim horre
Adam is kin dun to cast, him silf hath ido befor.
Lollai, lollai, litil child, so wo the worth Adam
In the lond of paradis, throgh wikidnes of Satan.
Child, thou nert a pilgrim bot an vncuthe gist,
Thi dawes beth itold, thi iurneis beth icast;
Whoder thou salt wend north or est,
Deth the sal betide with bitter bale in brest.
Lollai, lollai, litil child, this wo Adam the wroght,
Whan he of the appil ete and Eue hit him betacht.
Typecases (holders for individual pieces of movable type) from the China Printing Museum in Beijing, the largest printing museum in the world. Although movable type was introduced into the Western world by Gutenberg, the process was invented in China centuries prior.
I visited the museum in July 2009 and there were three floors plus a huge warehouse of obsolete printing machines, incl. some massive newspaper offset ones. But there were no other visitors and they initially sent me up a pitch black staircase to the third floor. I used my feet to find the stairs in an eerie hesitant shuffle. I wasn’t allowed to take pictures. A woman was assigned to quietly follow me through the museum.
Wooden movable type was first developed around 1040 AD by Bi Sheng(毕昇) (990–1051), as described by the Chinese scholar Shen Kuo (1031–1095), but was abandoned in favour of clay movable types due to the presence of wood grains and the unevenness of the wooden type after being soaked in ink. In 1298, Wang Zhen, a governmental official of Jingde, Anhui province, China, re-invented a method of making movable wooden types. He made more than 30,000 wooden movable types and printed 100 copies of Records of Jingde County (旌德县志), a book of more than 60,000 Chinese characters. Soon afterwards, he summarized his invention in his book A method of making moveable wooden types for printing books. Although the wooden type was more durable under the mechanical rigors of handling, repeated printing wore the character faces down, and the types could only be replaced by carving new pieces. This system was later enhanced by pressing wooden blocks into sand and casting metal types from the depression in copper, bronze, iron or tin. The set of wafer-like metal stamp types could be assembled to form pages, inked, and page impressions taken from rubbings on cloth or paper.
A particular difficulty posed the logistical problems of handling the several thousand characters whose command is required for full literacy in Chinese. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Movable_type
umbrellas entering the forbidden en masse (Beijing)
CHRISTINE MCNAIR 
