Another year to ponder over..

It hasn't been the greatest of years. The whole world has been spanked by the effects of one of the severest, financial crisis ever. Madoff, the ill-famed fraud, was bestowed with Christmas gifts of serious facial injuries, a few broken ribs and a punctured lung, but we are assured by the prison authorities that it was not due to any aggression. It was said that he fell out of bed..

To culminate the Italian Prime Minister's poor year he was hit by the fourth, largest Cathedral in the world. As such it could have been fatal, but he was saved by the grace of God and the art of miniaturisation.
Even the Pope himself wasn't spared from the aggressive effects of the various campaigns of hate that we have been blest with for most of 2009. Yet another excessive surprise for Christmas.

And sadly we lost Michael Jackson. But such is life- and death- for living legends, and more so for those who are determined to never age and live in Never, Never Land.

Rupert Murdoch made poor use of what once was one of the most reputable newspapers in Great Britain, to try to do as much damage as possible to Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi. He may even have fractionally succeeded, but perhaps he has done far more harm to the once reputable newspaper he unfortunately owns, along with several others. As he is one of the richest men in the world however, such trifles are unlikely to have marred his Christmas.
It's to Barack Obama's credit that, so far at least, he has resisted Murdoch's propositions. Whilst this remains to be the status quo, he is unlikely to fair well in Rupert's tabloids despite the temporary 'truce'. One of Fox News' sketches of him was ... 'just short of a terrorist'. Such is the influence of the press and it's illustrious magnates.

And with Internet of course the wealth of information is such that one can find virtually anything to support what one wants to believe. This is beginning to have an adverse effect, 'the boy who cried wolf phenomenon', when one starts to be wary of what one might wrongly believe to be false information or propaganda.
The effect of repetitive coverage of so many suicide attacks incredibly seems to make one virtually immune to them. If this is so, it would mean that their effect no longer has any real, political influence. Futile, blind and brainless assassinations of innocent people.

The crucial elections of Iran and Afghanistan had full coverage this year, both accused to be fraudulent by the losing oppositions. The West accept the results of the latter but not those of the former. A question of choice based on interests. Principle doesn't enter into it, even if that's what Nato is also  supposed to be defending in Afghanistan.
Yet it's probable that the Afghan fraud was far more massive than that of Iran. Both elected Presidents must assume the consequences. Those of Iran are irreversible, but surely this was part of the regime's program- to clear the stage in order to be able to set Ahmadinejad's 'earth shattering scenario'..
It remains to be seen how many more students and supporters of the opposition they will need to kill or imprison to clear the stage.

There was Climategate then the Copenhagen summit. At least a start which is important in itself, even if the results of the latter appear to be as deceiving as the discovery of the former.

In 2005 there was the Danish Cartoon controversy. Not offensive providing one reached the obvious conclusion that they consisted of a legitimate criticism of Islamic terrorism- or trying to justify the unjustifiable. The violence, hate and intolerance practised for so called 'religious motives'. For those who reason, the offenders weren't the critics, the offenders were, and are still, the subject of such criticism.
Four years later the Swiss voted against minarets in Switzerland. Again the Islamic authorities have taken offence. Perhaps it's easier to condemn the decision of a non Muslim, sovereign State exercising its democratic rights, than to condemn those same offenders who have given- and are still giving- Islam such a bad name.
It's not as though there's any lack of media access for the cleric authorities of Islam to establish once and for all- for the sake of the world's populations of Muslims and non Muslims- the difference between good and evil.

The Taliban want the Occident to believe that the war in Afghanistan is another Vietnam Pandora, more because they would like to believe it themselves. But 'once bitten twice shy'. Nato now knows what's at stake. It may have taken a few years, and a few International mass murders, but at last the authorities  seem to have cottoned on.
Obama however has confidently informed our enemies that the war will end in 2013. Nato will pack up then and go home. If one accepts that this war is international and that it's not necessarily for Afghanistan, which only represents the present epicentre of a deformed Jihad, one might question the wisdom of this confident declaration. Hard to imagine Roosevelt and Churchill making a public announcement in 1939 informing the world that the allies will stop fighting the Nazis and go home in 1942, but of course times change. In 2009 we are blest with leaders who have a much greater foresight capacity.
If the Taliban were intelligent however, (which fortunately- at least so far- doesn't seem to be the case) they would pack up, go home and make babies, then come back in 2013, retake Afghanistan, then take Pakistan. They would then have the whole world at their beck and call..
All food for thought for the slow and steady.

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Text and image © Mirino (PW) December, 2009

A seasonal poem

When icicles hang from one's nose,
 And one lies frozen 'tween the sheets,
And you can never warm your toes,
And snow lies deeply in the streets; 
When ice forms solid on windscreens,
 Or to start the car you have no means,
Then you receive the garage bill! 
A merry note from greasy Will.

When all around is grey and bleak,
   And coughing means you've caught pig flu,
And iced up pipes begin to leak,
And for the plumber there's a queue; 
  When lips are sore, chapped and split   
 And ev'n gloved hands become frost-bit
And chilblains then inflict your feet!
You live in hope for global heat.

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Text (with apologies to Shakespeare) and image © Mirino (PW) December, 2009

'L'Inglorieuse' Révolution

 

La Révolution Française. Une bête acharnée, sauvage et quasi incontrôlable, relâchée à faire comme bon lui semble. Comment pouvait-elle incarner l'Egalité, la Liberté et la Fraternité? Au contraire, de continuer à faire semblant, à la célébrer comme si c'était bien le cas, est de l'hypocrisie cynique, indigne de la vérité et de la mémoire de tant de victimes innocentes.

Tous les faits sont soigneusement archivés et disponibles, comme ceux des massacres et noyades de Nantes, ou les tueries de Vendée- parmi lesquels celui de la Chapelle de Notre-Dame où 564 personnes furent froidement massacrés au sabre et à la baïonnette dans ce lieu sacré. Voici l'ordre de Huché: 'Enfoncez-leur vos sabres jusqu'à la garde dans le corps. Taillez et retaillez...'
Le froid massacre des prêtres et des religieuses, l'obligation d'abjurer la religion, surtout le Catholicisme. Une guerre diabolique contre Dieu lui-même. La dévastation et le pillage des églises, les enlèvements, la destruction ou les refontes des clochers datant même parfois du XII siècle.

C'était bien un règne de terreur où il ne suffit que d'avoir une voisine jalouse ou malveillante pour finir décapité(e) à la guillotine. Mais avant d'y arriver, il fallait traverser l'horreur des prisons, souvent sans eau ni nourriture, ni vêtements contre le froid- car selon les bourreaux- pourquoi s'en préoccuper s'ils vont être guillotinés?

Il y a des récits atroces, des chasses aux sorcières, des horreurs commises par 'les Bleus' de Cordellier, les massacres des Beaufou, la Gaubretière, Lucs, Saint-Sulpice-le-Verdon, Mormaison... Voici encore un rapport du Général Huché de l'armée glorieuse de la République: 'Je les égayés de la bonne manière; ils étaient en trop petit nombre pour en faire grand carnage. Plus de cinq cents, tant hommes que femmes ont été tués... J'ai fait fureter les genêts, les fossés, les haies et les bois, et c'est là qu'on les trouvait blottis. Tout a passé par le fer, car j'avais défendu que, les trouvant ainsi, on consommât ses munitions.'...

Ce sont seulement quelques petits récits parmi tant d'autres événements barbares et inutiles de cette histoire. Car à partir de la prise de la Bastille le 14 juillet, 1789- qui en elle-même sembla avoir déjà établi un précèdent de cruauté injustifiée- jusqu'à la fin, il y a assez de tels exemples pour remplir des volumes.

Aujourd'hui, où il se passent des événements ailleurs dans le monde qui devraient aussi nous rappeler de ce qui s'est déroulé vers la fin du XVIII siècle en France, (des horreurs haineuses et barbares, l'intolérance religieuse, les répressions cruelles et tyranniques, etc.) comment peut on prétendre que les principes fondamentaux de la Révolution Française, cette Liberté, Egalité et Fraternité étaient mis en valeur, en pratique, et respectés?
N'est il pas temps que l'on soit officiellement plus honnête et intègre concernant la réalité, les faits incontestables de cette partie terrible de l'histoire française, au lieu de continuer à vouloir perpétuer un mythe- pour la forme et le bien de la République?

Si la Révolution Française fut inévitable, même nécessaire, si les beaux principes- plutôt utopiques- que l'on proclame toujours haut et fort, sont réellement valables, est ce qu'on a le droit de considérer tous ces événements, tous ces faits, partie intégrale de quelque chose de 'glorieuse'?

Cette bête acharnée, sauvage et quasi incontrôlable a fini par se tuer elle-même, mais on n'a pas le droit de minimiser le mal qu'elle avait fait auparavant, et encore moins de la glorifier.   

Avant de mourir cependant, elle a fait naître un Empereur auto-proclamé. Lui aussi est allé trop loin, certainement en Espagne et en Russie, mais malgré les critiques d'aujourd'hui (bien moins tendre avec lui qu'avec les criminels de la Révolution) c'est possible, ironiquement, que ce soit surtout lui qui a re-légitimé la République, la stabilisée et sauvé la France du vortex infernal, des conséquences irrévocables de sa propre Révolution.

 

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Text  © Mirino (PW) December, 2009. Source-L'Anti-89. Images (modified) Google archives.   

The vicar of St. Jude

The vicar of St. Jude
Is a man of habitude
Always ready for his
Varied congregation.

Yet he, unlike the Pope
Has little left of hope
For support to finance
The restoration.

Those gathering in the nave
Can neither spend nor save,
 Though bats would make donations
From the rafters,

And the mice beneath the pews
Would gnaw the vicar's shoes
And nibble hymn book pages
For their afters.

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The above might seem a bit irreverent, but it was carried out (many years ago) with love and respect. Things were not, and are still not that dramatic- thank the Lord- and whatever one's religion, or lack of it, we are all proud of our heritage, of our venerable Churches and Cathedrals. And because many of them have survived several, troubled centuries of history, perhaps they now represent our aspirations more than ever.

Although the above obviously pertains to an imaginary, English, parochial Church, surely this would be a general, European sentiment.

We can't all afford to be supportive towards the 'local parish Church', especially nowadays, and even less of us are regular Church goers in any case, yet unconsciously we identify with the Churches and Cathedrals we and our ancestors (in some cases from as far back as the 9th century) grew up with.

'Irreverent perhaps but carried out with love and respect' could equally apply to the master masons' impressive, artistic embellishments. The gargoyles (from the French 'gargoyle'- originally throat or gullet, to drain water from roofs, before the Godsend of gutters and drainpipes) and grotesques that seem to mock the very reason of being of the Cathedrals they grin or scowl from. Master masons' whims, signatures and secrets that seem to temper the righteousness of sacred monuments, timeless feats of architecture. Or it's thought they were sculpted to scare people into attending Church, reminding them that 'the end is nigh'. But it's more likely they were intended to keep evil spirits away from Holy sanctuaries. They were not always appreciated however. St Bernard of Clairvaux, (1090-1153) commissioned by the Pope to encourage the second Crusade, condemned the various monsters and animals that protruded from his Church. 

In history not all evil spirits have been kept away very easily, and it seems that we have entered into another period of having to cope with them once again. For it can't be good to claim to have the monopoly of righteousness, certainly without practising it. It's not good to disdain the culture, history and religion of others, to impose one's will by force, and commit odious crimes in the name of the God one claims to worship, thus using the religion one pretends to fervently abide by, as a pretext to commit evil.

Through centuries of history Europeans have fought each other for power, politics, territory and also for religious reasons. From the terrible lessons of hate, prejudice and intolerance, of war, and of constantly improved technology that has since made full scale warfare more senseless than ever, we have learnt to be more tolerant. In spite of, and because of our differences, we have learnt to appreciate one another- each European nation- as being essential to Europe and the world. We have won our unity.

But tolerance has to be reciprocal, general, international, to reign correctly. That 'intolerance is intolerable' isn't so much a paradox, it's a principle of democracy. It should also be a principle of every religion. It's why two world wars had to be fought, and why even now, there's a war in Afghanistan, and why there are other conflicts elsewhere. Freedom and civilisation depend on tolerance, which means tolerance within the limits of reason.
The New Testament tells us to turn the other cheek, but this is only possible if one has the freedom to do so, if circumstances permit, and that if by doing so, it leads to a positive consequence.

(Clint Eastwood's film, Gran Torino is a wonderful, fictive example of this).

Our Churches and Cathedrals are still standing, and somehow or other, whatever our faith, we shall make sure that they continue to do so, because we are still standing, and shall always make sure that we continue to do so.

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Italiano
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Text and illustration © Mirino (PW) Dcember, 2009

Writhing and fainting in coils

Had he known the extent of 'wake' his best work would leave behind, Lewis Carroll would surely have been overwhelmed.
Perhaps the reason for the fascination his chef-d'oeuvre 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' endlessly evokes is more profound than one might imagine.

He was a man of his epoch used to its rigours and discipline. A deeply religious man and a fine mathematician who, as Master and Tutor at Christ Church College, Oxford, taught within the boundaries of logic and no doubt thought within the boundaries of his religion and social observances.

Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, alias Lewis Carroll (derived from Lutwidge, his mother's maiden name, the German for Lewis, and the Latin for Charles- Carolus) was however to meet young Alice Liddell who inspired him into improvising 'Alice's Adventures Underground', which was to become 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'.

If Carroll fell in love with little Alice, perhaps it was more with what she represented for him as a writer and adept photographer, than with her real self. This epitome of an unspoilt, (or spoilt) innocent young girl was for him an ideal, and the essence of his inspiration. If the sequel, 'Through the Looking Glass' was less spontaneous and inspired, it was more an adieu to little Alice who was to become 'Queen' and finally leave her immortalised youth behind.

Carroll was a devout and disciplined man who stuttered. A skilled logician living in the oppressive, hypocritically 'moral', 'tightly corseted' Victorian age- from which he contributed to liberate his young readers, as well as himself, by giving freedom and immortality to Alice. She was to be seen and heard.
He gave her the freedom of a dream world of nonsense where everything and anything within the limits of innocent youth are possible or impossible, yet to Alice, quite acceptable but always questionable. A dream world where time stands still.

Only a logician would know how to create such a land of credible nonsense, for even nonsense must be harnessed by logic to be credible. The Caterpillar, for example, is so evocative because of its logical (illogical) description. He is blue, exactly three inches high, smoking a long hookah and sitting on a perfectly round mushroom.

Alice's dream must also allow her to break free from the rigours of Victoriana. She must be able to wave aside basic arithmetic and make parodies of the austere, stuffy, moral poems of her time. 'How doth the little bee...' (first line of Isaac Watts' poem moralising against idleness) becomes 'How doth the little crocodile...', and his moralistic 'Tis the voice of the sluggard...' becomes- 'Tis the voice of the Lobster...'. Similarly 'You are old Father William...' is the amusing parody of Robert Southey's 'Consolations of a pious old man'. The 'Turtle Soup' song is the parody of 'Evening Star' which was a popular song of that time.

It is revealing that Carroll's poem parodies have easily outlived the virtuous originals.

Alice was thus able to question and ridicule the rigid values of the epoch, and in her Wonderland she was free to explore and adapt, even in size, to the ever changing surroundings of her adventures.

She was both the participant and the unimpressed observer, ever curious, ever confident and sometimes selfish as young children often are. Carroll's ideal, young girl eternalised in a dream where time stands as still as it does at the Mad Tea-Party.

'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' has been illustrated well over two hundred times in English versions alone. It has been translated many times consecutively in foreign languages. In French it has been translated at least seventeen times. There is also a strong following for Alice in many countries including Japan, where, according to an eminent collector of Carolliana, 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' is considered to be one of the world's greatest masterpieces for children. In Japan it has been translated over forty times and illustrated at least twenty six times.

It's understandable why this work continues to attract not only artists but also translators and writers. The attraction and challenge for an artist are obvious and varied but there are points in common with those of a translator. Carroll's Wonderland is full of visual problems, often puzzles for an illustrator to solve. A three-legged, round, glass table, for example, seen from any angle is visually a geometrical problem. And the dispute between the gardeners must be closely followed in order to accurately convey the action taking place. Even Tenniel took liberties here.

For a translator the problems to solve are not only literary, they are also mathematical in certain ways, especially concerning the poems and play of words. Finding the equivalents, puns and parodies that a particular nation's culture can appreciate and identify with, and at the same time retaining the evocative style, the meanings, the rhyming, the feeling, with that particular atmosphere that Lewis Carroll wanted most to convey, is by no means easy.

The one translation that Lewis Carroll was keen to help with, was the first French translation, the results of which still make it in many experts' opinion, the best.
Although Henri Bué, son of one of Carroll's teacher colleagues of French at Oxford University, finished his translation incredibly quickly, Carroll took over two more years himself to make sure everything was as perfect as he wished it to be. This may explain why the Bué translation is still as fresh and undated as Carroll's own text. Certain French translators since then sometimes seem to get a little over zealous so that their results tend to be more laboured and sometimes pedantic.

It is certainly poignant to observe the gradual changes in one's growing daughter, and Alice, the immortalised child, is a wonderful thought and a wonderful gift.

Lewis Carroll lived with his sister during the final years of his life. The house, 'The Chestnuts', can still be seen in Guilford, South London. There is also a tiny museum dedicated to him quite near the house.
One can walk up the hill along the long lane to St. Michael's Cemetery where Charles Dodgson, alias Lewis Carroll is buried. His modest grave is next to an old yew tree near the little chapel in the centre. There's nothing particularly significant written upon it, and perhaps it's still untended and in need of repair. Yet like Shakespeare, even Lewis Carroll needs no monument. As Milton wrote of Shakespeare- 'What needs't thou such weak witness to thy name?' For there's no doubt that Lewis Carroll built for himself and for 'Alice' too, the most wonderful, eternal monument that no stone could ever compete with, including any of his own white ones.

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 (First written for Mischmasch, the Lewis Carroll Society, Japan). Text and illustration © Mirino (PW) Dcember, 2009