Donald and growing up

 

Last week the script writers and producers were at work at the White House. The star of the show was to be a former reality TV show presenter and star. The intended audience, from whom approval was sought was the American populace. And the stage? Ah, this is where the audacity of the producers knew no bounds. The stage was to be the world. There was to be self choreography, all liberals and left of centre political supporters would take to the streets to join in a communal act of protest with a global dimension. And the American President would present himself to the people as the one who can stand firm against the un-American Liberal elites of the world. And it worked.

The stage was set, in utmost secrecy, so when the new President, Donald Trump was photographed signing the executive order “PROTECTING THE NATION FROM FOREIGN TERRORIST ENTRY INTO THE UNITED STATES” this was a surprise to everyone except the President’s inner circle. With that, the drama unfolded. Slowly at first and then it gathered momentum. Protests spontaneously arose across the globe. Great TV. Especially at home in the USA. The Donald for his home audience was tough and fearless, a man of his word. A man who stands up to liberal thinking across the globe and puts America’s interests first. And now he can begin to “drain the swamp” with his public approval. Like Putin, Trump does not have to deliver on the economy, but instead both can rely on populism – doing what the people want.

So, should we take all this lying down and give up the protests? Should we just accept that Trump will meet the Queen? The answer to these questions is YES. This is not capitulation, but a call to a different kind of resistance. Donald trump feeds on publicity. Deny him the publicity. To be quite honest, the internal affairs of the United States are nothing to do with us. What is of concern is how our citizens are treated, and in the age of trade, whether the US does anything to affect our trade. Remember, the tyrants of the world, Robert Mugabe, Sadam Hussein, Vladamir Putin, Gadaffi, Adolf Hitler… All these have exploited a popular mandate. Plato wrote that Democracy eventually degrades into tyranny. For Plato, this was inevitable. But it does not have to be this way. Smarter opposition is required. We need to resell the values of liberalism to an audience who are tired of “Political Correctness”. Trump’s core constituency, like the core constituency of the Brexit vote, are those who find themselves ever more excluded and unvalued and who see their national identity eroded. To oppose Donald Trump and to prevent his administration descending into tyranny, his core constituency needs to be addressed and listened to. These people need a hand up not a hand out. Protests and petitions may make us feel good but do nothing to address the core concerns of Trump’s supporters.

 

 

 

The Red Notebook by Antoine Laurain

A novella. Not my choice, but I hope to join a reading group which will be discussing this book.

There are two cities called Paris, the city that gets all the headlines, the city of Charlie Hebdo, of the Bataclan attacks. The city where Francois Hollande prances around, a vain peacock, and where Marie le Pen aims to replace M. Holland. And the other city called Paris, where the Seine sweeps through gently, the city of light, the city of culture, with cafes and small shops, a city where beauty and culture are appreciated. Are they really the same place? Laurent Letellier crossed over from one city to the other, when he swapped a career in banking to running a book shop with living accommodation above. This is the Paris of Laure Valadier also. Laure is a gilder. She is also an elegant French woman, as indeed all French women are supposed to be. Laure dresses well. Lives on her own (well, there is a cat, Belphégor, who is central to the story).

 

The separate worlds of Laure and Laurent collide one night when Laure is mugged, a vicious assault that leaves her in a coma and Laurent finds her discarded handbag (a beautiful, expensive mauve handbag), a bag containing Laure’s life but without keys, money or phone. Laurent resolves to return the bag to its owner, having read the red notebook in the bag (this is where I take exception – a red moleskin notebook in a mauve handbag?).

Laurain treads a delicate path through this story. Laurent, in his quest, could quite easily be mistaken for a stalker, but it is Laure who initiates the contact at the end of the book.

I found this book an enjoyable read, but I needed to read it twice. The first time I galloped through to find out what happened. The second time was a more leisurely read, and I delighted in so many things, the references to Modiano (Accident Nocturne or Paris Nocturne is definitely on my reading list), the question of memory. Plus I need to know just what is a pot au feu. The book is short, but us a delight to read. Highly recommended.

 

This Happy Breed

A play by Noel Coward at the Yvonne Arnaud Theatre, Guildford. October 2016

Thoroughly enjoyable. A story of the suburban classes, and perhaps this is where its greatest charm lies. Of course, the Gibbons may be a suburban family living in a standard semi, that strata of society which so many of us inhabit. The squeezed middle as it is sometimes called. But the house was large enough to house 3 teenagers, one grandmother and one aunt as well as Ethel and Frank. Five bedrooms? Plus, there was a maid. Quite a large establishment – not the standard 1930's three bedroom home. How things have changed.

The play is set against the backdrop of British history, or rather, British history is projected onto the lives of this family. A twenty year slice of history neatly placed between the two wars of the twentieth century. We begin the play a few months after the end of WWI with the backdrop of hammering as Frank is putting up curtain rails as the family move in. And the play ended, just before that start of WWII, and again to the sounds of hammering as Frank is now taking down the curtains as he and Ethel are moving out. Coward finished the play in 1939, at a time when it was assumed that we would go to war against Germany, but no-one knew when. There was a gasp from the audience when Queenie prepares to go to Singapore in 1939 to join Billie Mitchell, the boy next door. We the audience know more, we know what is going to come hurtling around the corner

 

 

The Invisible Library by Genevieve Cogman

There are several categories of books, serious books that you are supposed to read, dreary books that are so dire that they are never finished, great books which live with you and change your life, page turning books which leave you wanting for more, not always great literature, but very enjoyable.

The Invisible Library falls into the latter category. This Who can resist a book where science fiction meets fantasy, where there are dragons and vampires, magic and science, and a Victorian world exists in an alternative universe. This is an extremely enjoyable read, so much so that I have acquired the next book in the series, The Masked City.

The Invisible Library by Genevieve Cogman

There are several categories of books, serious books that you are supposed to read, dreary books that are so dire that they are never finished, great books which live with you and change your life, page turning books which leave you wanting for more, not always great literature, but very enjoyable.

The Invisible Library falls into the latter category. Who can resist a book where science fiction meets fantasy, where there are dragons and vampires, magic and science, and a Victorian world exists in an alternative universe. This is an extremely enjoyable read, so much so that I have acquired the next book in the series, The Masked City.

Putting the Mass back into Christmas

One day, two different meetings.

1623405-bigthumbnailThe first meeting is at work and one topic under discussion is the team Christmas card. The earnest young men I work with were very concerned that the word Christmas should not be used as it might cause offence. What about Season's Greetings? A compromise will be reached, my suggestion is that the team Christmas card, which will be sent to our colleagues in Europe should say Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year in several languages. Christmas will appear on our Christmas card. And it will not cause offence. But the forces of religious fundamentalism combined with iconoclasm are at work, chipping away at our heritage.

The second meeting was later in the evening and was our local interchurch Ecumenical group. And the demand was that "Christ" should be put back into Christmas. Perhaps, I thought, we should also put the Mass bask into Christmas, but I said nothing, Ecumenism sometimes means keeping quiet about out Papist heritage.

The problem is that Christmas is a festival period that exists in several different planes. The secular festival of Christmas has Father Christmas (or Santa Claus) as its central figure. It is a non-religious festival, with parties and gift giving, feasting and carousing at its heart, culminating with New Year celebrations. All great fun and brings our society together. This is the great mid-winter festival of Northern Europe, centred on the winter solstice. If we eat enough, drink enough and burn enough fires, the sun will return. The second festival is the Christian religious festival, celebrating the birth of Christ, Son of God. A quieter occasion, with midnight Mass at its heart. The rhythm is given by the liturgical year. The Christ Mass is an act of worship. And the third festival is about our humanity, in the dark of winter, when light is failing, there is a flicker of hope. We can be noble, we can be generous, we can be good, we can long for peace. The new born child comes to represent a new start for humanity and the hope for a better world. This the festival of the domestic Christmas tree, hearth and home.

There is a movement, an aggressive form of Evangelisation, which is strident about "putting Christ back into Christmas", a movement that is going head to head with the Iconoclasts who wish to remove the word Christmas (and replace it with what – winter festival perhaps?). Both are wrong. The former alienates more people than it appeals to, and the latter is cultural fascism. Christians need to accept the non-religious claims to the festival are as valid as their claims.

And the Mass? There is nothing quite so evocative as the midnight Mass. This is a great collective act, that takes place throughout the whole of Christendom. An act of worship, an act of celebration. Candles and communal singing. The Easter Triduum (Good Friday and Easter) is the festival where we celebrate the mysteries of our faith, the death and resurrection of Jesus. But Christmas is the festival of our humanity which God shares with us, and the festival of hope in a new life.

A Time for Silence by Thorne Moore


Oh dear. I read this book. I did not give up. But I read it hot on the heels of two very competent story tellers, Jodie Picoult and Julie Berry. In contrast the style was pedestrian and without surprise. No intellectual effort required. A book of clichés, the romance that will fail, the hard unbending Chapel mentality, the intertwining of two stories, then and now, the discovery of what really happened – except this was not too well handled. Not great literature, but then Chic Lit seldom is.

All the truth that is in me by Julie Berry

I loved the way the story is told in this book.

The book begins

We came here by ship, you and I.

I was a baby on my mother's knee, and you were a lisping, curly-headed boy playing at your mother's feet all through that weary voyage.

Watching us, our mothers got on so well together that our fathers chose adjacent farm plots a mile from town, on the western fringe of a Roswell Station that was much smaller, then.

I remember my mother telling tales of the trip when I was young. Now she never speaks of it at all.

She said I spent the whole trip wide-eyed, watching you.

The voice is haunting and the mind keeps searching for meaning, for sense. Who are "you and I"? I read, hoping that illumination would come. The chapters are short – often very short, so it is a quick read. And slowly all is revealed. But each time I anticipated what the story was, it was snatched away from me and a new possibility placed in front of me. The end though was satisfying. I really enjoyed the way the story was told. The reader is definitely part of the narrative, the reader has to engage with the story telling. Definitely a book worth reading.