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What are your thoughts on published author, poet, and all-around

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What are your thoughts on published author, poet, and all-around Renaissance man James Franco?
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kinda like his faulkner adaptations.

Everything I've read of his is like 7th grader level trash tho.
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is he jewish?
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>>9153516
His mom is. So yes.
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He's based AF

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=DHTv65261NU
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>>9153515
>kinda like his faulkner adaptations
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He's awful. He gives himself the most difficult roles even though he has no range, he butchers great works of literature with adaptations starring himself, and don't make me pull out that essay on Demian he wrote for Penguin.
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>>9153550
how did he fuck this up? all you had to do was lift it straight from the book. like the watchmen movie.
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>>9153630
Post it
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>>9153512
He's a funny actor. Nothing more than that. I tried watching his "The Sound and the Fury" movie adaption, turned it off after around 10 minutes.
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it's not that i dislike the fact that he's so far up his own ass, i just dislike that he has absolutely no justification for being so far up his own ass.
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>>9153637
He's a pseud
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>>9154042
This lol
I think his entire personality is an attempt to get laid
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He's funniest when he plays a parody of himself like in that movie about the apocalypse

I'm glad he likes to read and all too and is smart-pantsing all these degrees or whatever, but he shouldn't be allowed to adapt or direct Blood Meridian.

Also, he was okayish in Tristan and Iseult. Not the best actor for sure.
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>>9153516
he's deep in the cabal
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his little brother is acute angle
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MwT_10russ
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>>9154220
I did not even know thye were brothers
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>>9154220
watching them driving is like watching entourage
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Any retard can become a writer or an actor, look at Madonna. Get back to me when he studies an actual degree like Physics.
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>>9154018

>I remember reading Demian for the first time. It was the beginning of summer, I had turned nineteen in April, and I was working at a café on the UCLA campus, selling deli sandwiches, microwaved pizza, cheap Mexican hash, and glistening Chinese. I had spent the previous school year studying English literature but had recently taken the plunge into the raging sea of film acting and was freshly making my way through the tide pools of acting school. I had not auditioned for the UCLA theater program and thus had been forced to take classes in the Valley, and just before the spring quarter at UCLA had ended I decided to devote myself full time to acting. My parents didn’t object, saying only that they would support me as long as I studied at the university, but if I wanted to be an artist I had to find my own way.

>Working at the north campus eatery, I was serving the students who once had been my classmates. My boss was a graduate student with a shaved head except in two spots that he dyed red and gelled into six-inch horns. I’ll call him Bill. I remember liking Bill if only because he was closer to my age than any boss I’d ever had, but he was still a boss. I was working to support my dream (one of a few) to become a film actor, and my employer looked like the devil.

>On my breaks I read plays by O’Neill, Tennessee Williams, Shaw, Ibsen, Chekhov, and anyone else who might help me understand my chosen profession. It turned out that the grinding aspect of the job was not Bill’s constant watch as I loaded meat and mustard on sandwiches or scooped chili rellenos from the tin, depending on the day of the week; it was the boredom. I know now that I learned much about responsibility, dedication, and service from that humble job, but back then I had dreams of grandeur. I had left school in order to become the best actor in the world, and here I was, back on campus serving the very people who had been inviting me to frat parties a few months prior. I seemed to have taken five steps backwards, and the fact that I had left a top-rated university to join an army of hopefuls trying to break into a famously competitive industry often seemed like a fool’s quest.

>On the wall next to the pizza service section was a framed photo of an elderly Marlon Brando being led by a man in a suit and a football helmet through a throng of photographers and gawkers. I’m pretty sure it was taken around the time of Brando’s son’s murder trial, but it inspired me as I served the slop: Brando was the pinnacle of film acting, and his picture was a reminder of the great tradition I hoped to be a part of.
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>>9154400

>After a couple months I started reading Demian. I’m not sure if there was a connection, but one day, without warning, I hung up my apron and walked out the back, never to return. I had planned to work that day, so once taking my exit I didn’t know where to go. With Demian folded in my pocket, I headed into Westwood, full of the passion of what I had done. On the edge of campus I ran into one of my former classmates, a girl I once had flirted with, sunning herself on the grass. I told her what had happened, but it didn’t seem to register. I felt like I had taken another step away from a conformist life and another step toward artistic freedom, but, talking to her, I sounded to myself like I was an immature kid who had quit his job.

>At a café I jumped back into Demian, and I felt like I was understood again. Emil Sinclair, the narrator, is also on a search. His vacillation between good and bad, between expected pursuits and his own artistic path, seemed to mirror mine. Like so many young people in the ninety years since its publication, I felt like Hermann Hesse was describing my own interior and exterior struggles. Sinclair had Demian to help guide him, but I had yet to find my artistic mentor. Instead I had the book.

>Demian became my Demian, a voice I could listen to and contemplate as I tried to find my way from childhood to adulthood and into the world of art. Of course there were many turns in the road ahead — I would get a job at McDonald’s, get work as an actor, grow to hate much of the work I did, expand my artistic horizons (Hesse became not just a writer but also a celebrated painter) — but reading Demian was an important step in the direction of a life that resonated with my ideals.
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>>9154400
>>9154401
>foreword by James Franco
>cover art by James Franco
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>>9154401
Did he go back in time and write this when he was 15
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>>9153512
All the mid-thirties female lit professors at my Uni collectively wet their panties over him. One of my units, a course which examined text-to-screen adaptions, screened his 'As I Lay Dying', and they sat in a little gaggle at the front of the room and tittered and cooed like school girls watching Chad play football. When his later book came out, there was a copy in every one of their offices.

So essentially >>9154071
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>>9154400
>>9154401
>>9154406

He is so pure and inspiring. I am not worthy of his insight.
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He deserves to get kneecapped for his Faulkner and mcarthy movie adaptations .

I heard he has the film rights for blood meridian. Let that sink in for a couple of minutes
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>>9154370
>>9154387
chad family
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>>9154400
>>9154401
>>9154406
I'd be surprised if the pages didn't come stuck together.
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meet the franco parents ft. me (nervous edition) h o t
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>>9153512
James Franco makes me feel very insecure about myself and my work.

His writing is generally bad, that's not so hard and I think most of us would agree on that point. Franco is a pretty shitty writer, but he is also incredibly wealthy and famous. He has that brooklynite hollywood-cabal half-jewish 'cool' thing going on, which he's constructed over the last 15 years of his career as an actor. And because all of these things are built into his air of clout, no one really cares that he is a shit terrible writer. The New Yorker still solicits bad short stories from him, because his name is recognizable and marketable, and the print industry is absolutely dying so anything we can do to sell more fucking magazines we will do--like put James Franco's bad writing on the cover.

And so twats like this who act special because they're self aware enough to play the 'we're all the same, I'm just one of you guys' angle use their status to shove their work around here and there. And people mistake his post-self-aware-metamodernist schtick for being smart and humble, when at the very foundation of it all, his writing is still tripe, which wouldn't really be the case if he were worth a damn.

I'm sitting here, with one tiny publication to my name and a folder full of shit that I cannot get published anywhere else, mostly for reasons that are DIRECTLY tied to my clout: No one will publish a novella, not profitable. No one will publish a short story that isnt less than 5000 words. There are 5 million new writing venues online, and they all demand flash fiction, no exceptions. Don't send us unsolicited novel queries. If you use the word 'nowadays' in your manuscript, we wont publish it. On and on and on and on. And all the while I know for a fact that if James Franco was sitting on my work, he could just send someone a congenial email and next week its in The New Yorker.

But Anon, what if your writing is really really really shitty, and you just have delusions of grandeur about your subpar work? That may be. Maybe I am trash and I will always be trash. Maybe. Maybe if I did actually write a great work of fiction, all these 'little' things would sort themselves out and the planets would align because the work was so god damn undeniably universally soul-wrenchingly good, even Cormac McCarthy's agent would start taking requests again or something. Maybe. But until then, I am just some suburban nobody working a day-job, trying to get a Ph.D. in a totally unrelated field. Working a day-job and absolutely trapped in a world so mundane it would make fucking Kafka blush. Sitting on this pile of prose that would probably be public if my name mattered. Watching James Franco shoehorn his bland coming-of-age-intellectual revelations into forewords of famous people's work while serving hotdogs and reading Chekov like he owns that experience, and also owns the self-awareness to apologize for it too. Water-tight.

Kill me, /lit/
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>>9153512

loved him in Spiderman 3 t.b.h
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>>9154491
strawberries
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>>9154460
This is me too, anon. Every. Last. Detail.
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>>9154460
You're not a bad writer.
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>>9153512
>(((James Franco)))

What does he write about, Hollywood? It's not even literature. Piss off.
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>>9154509
>>9154554
>“Consume my heart away; sick with desire
>And fastened to a dying animal”
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>>9154586
It's good we don't have the crutch of celebrity. It's better for the work to stand on its own merits rather than depend on personal 'reach.' Imagine how shitty it would be to have a bestseller with work you aren't proud of.
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>>9154590
This is a fair point, albeit a blunt one. My/our work doesn't stand on any merits at the moment though, does it? The thought of being this insecure about a bestseller in my name is suicide fuel though, for sure. Christ.
>“Therefore, perish strife both from among gods and men, and anger, wherein even a righteous man will harden his heart—which rises up in the soul of a man like smoke, and the taste thereof is sweeter than honey.”
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>>9154586
Thus rank on rank, the thick battalions throng,
Chief urged on chief, and man drove man along.
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>>9154601
Good man.
>tfw Athena wraps Akhilleus's head in a golden shroud, hangs her shield on his back, and they cry out from the battlement--breaking the Trojan ranks and giving Menelaos time to haul the body back shoreward.
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>>9154615
Menolaos is your novel, anon.
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>>9154773
I think I'm going to get back to work. Thank you, Anon.
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>>9154786
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>>9154593
I talked to this guy who was living the ideal fucking life. Plays in the orchestra during the summer seasons, has worked with Björk, is a holistic health consultant, friends with actors in New York. I told him all I do is walk around and think how I'm going to get my life together. He said: "Those are the best days."

"Not when you're in them."

"Oh, God no."

Anybody worth a damn struggles in a vacuum. It's a matter of ringing the same bell until somebody tries to figure out what that chime is.
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>>9154890
Make a note to read this tomorrow. I hope you find it as funny as I did today.
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>>9154400
>>9154401
I knew it would be bad, but damn, that's awful.
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>>9154401
>>9154400
>Demian became my Demian
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

holy shit this is like "the room" of memoirs
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>>9153512
You know, he seems to have some authentic artistic interest and some awareness to refine himself
He just stopped well short of actually becoming a patrician
It's almost paradoxical how he wants to be seen as a patrician and has actually read and studied some esoteric material, but also seems to be totally unaware that there are much deeper levels of art and literature out there

It's like someone posting on /lit/ for years without ever checking out the meme trilogy, at the very least out of morbid curiosity
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>>9153512
Decent bait m8
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>>9153512
>tfw James Franco has read enough literature, poetry and philosophy to know that he is a monumental failure

It must be painful to be James Franco
Thread posts: 50
Thread images: 12


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