fiction

Andrew Kötting – The Whalebone Box

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A whalebone box found washed up on the shore. Is it an enigmatic object containing a secret? A survivor from a shipwreck? It was given to Iain Sinclair, Kötting’s walking companion on his latest jaunt themed film. They set out on an expedition to take this box to its place of origin, a beach on the Isle of Harris in Scotland’s Outer Hebrides. Artist Eden Kötting helps shape the film, and in many ways it’s an ode to her indomitable spirit. Shot using mainly super 8 and super 8 apps and incorporating elements of archive and pinhole photography, The Whalebone Box celebrates the notion of the home-made but is also an idiosyncratic road map.

Review from the Guardian

“His latest offering is more like a dream – or rather a conjunction of dreams, occupying that liminal space between waking and sleep (“half one thing, half the other”) where the land meets the sea, past meets present, and lo-fi home-made cinema brushes against something sublime. As with so many of Kötting’s films, the central conceit involves a journey – a quest apparently undertaken to restore the titular artefact to the place of its making in the Outer Hebrides, and thereby cure an amorphous “unwellness”. I have no idea how much of what is documented here is “true”; suffice to say that it all feels profoundly truthful.

We’re told that the whalebone box was made over 30 years ago (“it belonged to another time, another place”) by sculptor Steve Dilworth, who fashioned it from the skeleton of a whale that washed up on the Isle of Harris. Tied with the twine from a herring net, lined with the lead of melted weights, and filled with “calm water”, the box came into the possession of Iain Sinclair, the author and “psychogeographer” (“a walker and talker”), who has become a regular Kötting collaborator. Sinclair called the box his “animal battery”, and for years it sat by his desk while he wrote. But at some point he decided that it should be returned to its home and buried in the sand where the whale was beached. And so, aided by pinhole photographer Anonymous Bosch, Sinclair and Kötting embarked upon a “reversed pilgrimage” to do just that.

Part of The Whalebone Box is a typically fragmented account of that journey, venturing in a chronological fashion from the psychic aerial of Sway Tower in the New Forest to the standing stones of Lewis (via diversions through the Pyrenees), all recorded in a variety of DIY formats, both physical and digital, and interspersed with archive footage, still photography and animation. The other part is a journey into the dreams of Eden Kötting, the remarkable artist who has long been the muse and inspiration of her father, Andrew. In these sections we find Eden seated like a regal seer in a forest, a gun across her lap, holding a pair of binoculars to search for whales. In her dreams, Eden has fashioned an imitation of the whalebone box, a papery contraption that lacks the physical heft of its namesake. Yet somehow, this dream-box has found its way into the “real” world. Or maybe it’s the other way round?

Borrowing intertitles from Leviathan by Philip Hoare (the author who also informs and structures this odyssey), The Whalebone Box muses on familiar themes of folklore, history, mysticism and “happenstance”, as it meanders across disparate landscapes, several journeys becoming one. En route we encounter the graves of Basil Bunting (“Poet of Northern England”) and Sorley MacLean (“Poet of Northern Scotland”), and hear the poet-artist MacGillivray perform her spine-tingling murdered mermaid song in a church, sounding for all the world like a whale out of water, crying plaintively into the abyss. At each stage, the box (in both its incarnations) seems to become heavier, charged with “insane energy”, carrying the accumulated psychic weight of its journey.

Thrown into the mix are discussions of other boxes: Pandora’s box; the flight recorders from doomed aeroplanes; the mysterious container from Kiss Me Deadly (“what’s in the box?”); the conceptual box in which Schrödinger’s cat is simultaneously alive and dead – a subject that also haunted Carol Morley’s tangentially comparable Out of Blue. Beneath it all, an ambient soundtrack ebbs and flows, from low pulsing throbs to rhythmic beats and floating melodies, interspersed with whispered words (“I love you inside out”) and fragments of other movies – the voiceover from Sunset Boulevard; the trailer for John Carpenter’s The Thing. You can feel the ghost of Derek Jarman in Kötting’s work: the use of collage; the investigation of memory; the allusions to Shakespeare’s The Tempest; the deconstruction of cinema itself. Yet, The Whalebone Box has something even more personal in its subtle exploration of the bond between father and daughter, an expression of love that had me laughing one moment and crying the next. With such a tender, beating heart, this is in some ways Kötting’s most unexpectedly accessible work. And, as Eden says more than once in her subtitled voiceover: “It’s true!”

Text reproduced from https://www.theguardian.com/film/2020/apr/05/the-whalebone-box-review-andrew-kotting-iain-sinclair (accessed 11/09/24)

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A fictional account of a walking tour through England’s East Anglia, Sebald’s home for more than twenty years, The Rings of Saturn explores Britain’s pastoral and imperial past. Its ten strange and beautiful chapters, with their curious archive of photographs, consider dreams and reality. As the narrator walks, a company of ghosts keeps him company – Thomas Browne, Swinburne, Chateaubriand, Joseph Conrad, Borges – conductors between the past and present. The narrator meets lonely eccentrics inhabiting tumble-down mansions, and hears of the furious coastal battles of two world wars. He tells of far-off China and the introduction of the silk industry to Norwich. He walks to the now forsaken harbor where Conrad first set foot on English soil and visits the site of the once-great city of Dunwich, now sunk in the sea, where schools of herring swim. As the narrator catalogs the transmigration of whole worlds, the reader is mesmerized by change and oblivion, survival and memories. Blending fiction and history, Sebald’s art is as strange and beautiful as the rings of Saturn, created from fragments of shattered moons.”–Publisher’s description

Utopia – Sir Thomas More

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Text by Cristina Acuna and Reagan Bleasdell

“Sir Thomas More was the first person to use the term “utopia,” describing an ideal, imaginary world in his most famous work of fiction. His book describes a complex community on an island, in which people share a common culture and way of life (“16th Century Dreams: Thomas More”). The term he coined derives from the Greek word ou-topos meaning “nowhere,” (“Utopia Summary”). Ironically, it is the opposite of the similar-sounding Greek word eu-topos meaning “a good place,” (“Utopia Summary”). At its heart, the book poses the question of whether there could ever be such a thing as a “perfect” world and served as a platform to highlight the chaos of European politics at the time.”Sir Thomas More was the first person to use the term “utopia,” describing an ideal, imaginary world in his most famous work of fiction.

The book, written in 1516, is More’s attempt to suggest ways to improve European society, using “Utopia” as an example. More was a major figure of the English Renaissance who cared deeply about the moral and political responsibilities of individuals. He eventually rose to one of the highest offices in the land, and, as chancellor of England in 1529, came up against his own king with disastrous consequences. More strongly opposed Henry VIII’s separation from the Catholic Church and refused to sign the Oath of Supremacy, which would give King Henry more power than the Pope. He was convicted of treason and was imprisoned in the Tower of London. They continued to urge him to sign the oath, but he refused. He was sentenced to be hanged, drawn, or quartered, the usual punishment for traitors, but the king commuted this to execution by decapitation. While on the scaffold, he declared that he died, “The king’s good servant, and God’s first” (qtd. in “Thomas Moore” Wikipedia).

The society depicted in Utopia differs from the European society that Thomas More was living in at the time, one rife with intrigue, corruption and mired by scandal. The author’s experience with politics in his time and the Utopia that he invented demonstrates this contrasting relationship: Utopia is communal, allowing its people to easily meet their needs, while European society is described as a place where, “Idle monarchs and nobles seek to increase their own wealth and power at the expense of the people, who are left in poverty and misery” (“Utopia: Theme Analysis”). Clearly dissatisfied with the world he was living in, More sought to create a different place altogether on the page—a world free of the hierarchies that ultimately cost the author his life.”

Text reproduced from https://pressbooks.pub/earlybritishlit/chapter/sir-thomas-more-utopia/ (accessed 25/10/23) Image reproduced from https://www.britannica.com/topic/Utopia-by-More (accessed 25/10/23)