About

The funky name of this blog comes from the equally funky personage of Gertrude Stein. Gertrude was born in the 1870's and died in the 1940's. She started her life in Pennsylvania, spent a lot of the middle of it in Paris, and left it in Oakland, California. My first experience with Gertrude was in an undergraduate modernist poetry class. Gertrude is not an easy person to get to know. She writes long, long texts in long, long sentences and has this funny grudge against adjectives. But she likes pronouns. Educated, Jewish, and of an alternative sexual orientation, Gertrude knew her mind, spoke her mind, and drove a lot of people out of their minds. I still haven't figured Gertrude out. Sometimes when I read one of her texts or another text entirely, I imagine what Gertrude might say if she and I were having a conversation on a sunlit cafe patio. I picture her leaning back, squinting against the light, and taking a moment to ponder as she sips her lemonade. But I can't picture what she might say to me about why language is so confusing, so volatile, so enticingly intimate and obscure all at once. I am simply left with that image ... of Gertrude taking a sip.