I tried to explain to my buddy what had just happened, what we, in various states of anxiety and anticipation, had just witnessed: the magnitude of the event, its world-historical importance; the significance of their achievement, both for themselves as well as for the institution.
a bone? ... where?
It finally hit me. I knew what to say.
Bacchus, it is like a big bone, a great big bone. A bone as big as you.
Ah, I see his tail start to wag. Now he understands what it means for Manchester United to win the European Cup.
Jonathan Glancey writes passionately about Selexyz Dominicanen in The Guardian’s very own ShopTalk section. The bookshop is integrated within the architectural frame of a 13th century Dominican Church, with its enormous bookcase a commanding presence and counter-point to its now secularised altar. Seldom have the twin pursuits - truthfulness and faith - come face to face in such an apt setting.
See further the list of Top Shelves.
While researching the bookshop, I subsequently clicked my way to a fascinating site, probably as close to a labour of love as is possible these days: www.bookstoreguide.org; it does exactly what it claims (”an amateur guide to book shopping throughout Europe”). Their blog contains a detailed write up on bookshops in Berlin, too, something I would have so enjoyed.
I’m tempted to apply this concept to Asia, but perhaps Singapore is a more manageable - if also limited - starting point. Check back if this comes to fruition.
We’ve been friends since we met in University some twenty years ago. We keep in touch as best we can, which, given we live in opposite sides of the world, means we do the “weddings, births, wakes” circuit. In all this time, Simon has been very possessive and protective about only one thing - his special “something” that has always distinguished him. It’s good for us that he has decided to share this now: see evochi.co.uk/
We were asked to each bring an object to class the following day. I brought a three-pin plug. This was placed with other objects on a table, from which we selected an item. I chose this.
The lesson I learnt was that we could write about anything - if we tried!
the piece:
what are these things called?
There at the bottom of her purse, among loose change, receipts that tracked her every movement and acted as ready-made alibis, and masking tools, was the comfort her eyes longed for. Those disposable tear drops on demand; the ease of each capsule’s opening mirroring her proximity to real tears.
This was her first line of defence against the carcegenic air, eye-drops perfectly packaged in tear shaped plastic mouldings which cost more than the priceless liquid it encased.
If reading is an exploration of uncharted lands, then books as gifts are beacons that illuminate and guide.
Posted in books, writing | Tagged books, reading |
Quite a coincidence. I was flying out to Surabaya the other week and picked up a book by Eric A. Johnson & Karl-Heinz Reuband. Not the usual airport fare, I agree, but pickings were slim. Do compare the cover of their book with Richard J. Evans’s The Third Reich in Power, 1933-1939.
It’s the same photograph, of course, and they wish to convey, I think, the normality of the regime / the regime of normality. They give us a sense of the benign everyday.
Our eyes are concentrated on a particular girl. It gives new meaning to “poster girl”. For her, this was perhaps an outing with school friends. But here she is, the poster girl of The Naive Party.
I wonder what became of her, if the girl here frozen in time survived the war. And if she will survive this campaign.
Posted in books | Tagged book cover, nazi girl |
I’m not sure what steered me initially away, and brought me to what I hope to be a more permanent return to the site. Things change, I suppose.
I used to subscribe to the Times Literary Supplement; each new issue invariably arrived on a Tuesday, and it would be the focal point until, once religiously devoured, the following week’s arrival. Book reviews of scholarly, sometimes academic, tomes being the focus of the TLS, each issue practically re-invented itself anew; a well-chosen cover, unpredictable and bearing no relation to the content, made the TLS a true weekly.
One fixture was Hugo Williams fortnightly (?, I forget) “Freelance” column. I remember him asking in an ancient issue:
Is it being a past-oriented person that makes one a writer, or vice versa? I read recently that writers are rarely contented because they trespass on sacred ground.
Indeed.
This spring-cleaning of this domain - notwithstanding a much needed re-design - began with a simple culling of old links. The musical Memphis Cat is gone; downtheinkwell has stopped writing. totalitarianism today is birthing a child or three. democratic underground has gone all mainstream and relevant.
On a cheerful note, s p u r i o u s is back, while I’m glad pas au-delà is still around.
The biggest shock, however, is that “Politics” is no longer a category on these pages. How the times have changed me.
You know how it is sometimes. You see her; she catches your eye. Sometimes it’s hard to keep your resolve.
Soon enough, you’ve taken her home and do what comes naturally. Then you realise that you’ve done this before. Years ago. And it wasn’t even that great the first time around.
So you bring her back to Customer Service and sheepishly write a reason for the change of heart in the “Returns Book”. What shall I write. I’ll be honest:
Duplicate purchase
How embarrassing is that.
I glance at the previous entry above mine, written two days before:
Fickle
So we’re back from our honeymoon, and the lessons just keep coming and they keep getting better.
- Mexicana - Always Late.
- Air pollution is relative - Mexico City is the embodiment of Natural Beauty compared to Havana.
- You’ve heard of Eco-Tourism? Well, in Cuba they practice Socialist Tourism. It’s something along the lines of, … how shall I describe it, “Scam the Tourists”.
- Don’t tell US Immigration you’ve been to Cuba.
- On the whole, a stay at a luxury, boutique hotel (Bulgari, Four Seasons) in Bali is better value than its equivalent in Mexico.
- Fidel exiled Che to his death. Probably.
Posted in cronica | Tagged cuba, honeymoon |
