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Monthly Archives: October 2017

Bibliophile

18 Wednesday Oct 2017

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A few years ago a friend added me to the mailing list of a British publication that lists books (not ebooks) that are available at a reduced price. The masthead proudly proclaims that it is ‘Britain’s Best Postal Book Bargains.’ And at the side is the royal crest that bears the legend ‘By Appointment To H.R.H. The Duke of Edinburgh Booksellers London.’

The publication consists of over thirty closely-printed pages, with each page containing summaries of the various books offered, often accompanied by a colour photo of the cover. The prices are often very tempting. To take just one example, chosen at random, the paperback version of book (no. 88201) ‘Forget the Anorak: What Trainspotting Was Really Like,’ by Michael Harvey was 9.99 pounds sterling but is now reduced to 5 pounds. Of course, to that has to be added the cost of package and posting, but anyone ordering several books can thereby reduce that expense.

Just imagine, a newspaper lands in your mailbox, each of its thirty-six pages summarizes an average of fifteen books, so that you are offered a wide range of reading options in fields that vary from Biography to Art and Home Entertainment (they include CDs and greeting cards too), with every genre in between. In addition, you have the added satisfaction of knowing that H.R.H. The Duke of Edinburgh may be reading the very same books, or at least the Bibliophile summary of them (though I doubt he does much reading these days).

And so, on a monthly basis over the course of several years I have been able to enjoy summaries of an almost endless supply of books. In the past I have indeed ordered some books from there, but the attraction of printed accounts of books has been overshadowed by the almost infinite supply of books provided on-line by Amazon. And so there goes another industry swallowed up and destroyed by the internet.

Interspersed among the book summaries are little snippets of quotes, in italics, that remind the reader of the joys of reading. “Hell, it is well known, has no fury like a woman who wants her tea and can’t get it,” is from the almost unending store of bons mots taken from the works of P.G. Wodehouse. In the History section we find the following quote from John Maynard Keynes: “Ideas shape the course of history.” And there are many more, too numerous to give here.

Sadly, I feel that the days of Bibliophile are numbered. Admittedly, there are still those among us who prefer to read a printed page rather than peruse a computer screen, or worse still, a mobile phone screen, but they are getting ever fewer.

Because I have sought to market the books I write via various internet bookselling sites, I am bombarded on a daily basis by lists of books on offer, both in paper and in electronic form, which may be ordered or downloaded either gratis or for a very small fee. And of course, one can always go onto the Amazon site and look for books to buy or download, either according to subject or author or genre, or anything one wants.

The whole world is out there on the internet, so there is no need to restrict oneself just to the few hundreds of books offered by Bibliophile to its readers. But the focus of the Bibliophile readership appears to be on books published in England, either recently or in the past, and I still enjoy reading the well-written summaries. It’s almost as if I’ve read the actual book, so that I come away feeling that I’ve achieved something by devoting an hour or two to its pages.

Once again, we are forced to opine: sic transit gloria mundi.

 

 

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Predators

12 Thursday Oct 2017

Posted by fromdorothea in Uncategorized

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No, it doesn’t apply to all men, but it would seem to be a corollary of the power that many men have obtained, by fair means or foul, over women, particularly in the workplace.

The recent revelations about the way Hollywood mogul Harvey Weinstein appears to have made a habit of molesting, harassing and pestering women for sexual favours have given rise to a wide range of expressions of shock, horror and disgust.

What a bunch of hypocrites! Especially the men.

It now transpires that everyone knew about Weinstein’s shenanigans. And nobody spoke up because he was all-powerful in Hollywood. And that, of course, is the devastating combination: men and power.

It’s not so long ago that we witnessed a tape of the current president of the USA boasting about molesting young women because of the power he wielded as a TV personality and owner of the Miss World beauty pageant. Yet it didn’t stop him getting elected to the highest office, probably because many men either identified with him or admired him for his (mis)behaviour. Why any women voted for him is beyond me, but that’s another matter.

Mr. Weinstein is far from being alone in the field of sexual harassment. Not so long ago Mr. Dominique Strauss-Kahn, or DSK as he was popularly known in his homeland, France, was the very powerful head of the IMF (International Monetary Fund) and on the verge of becoming the leading candidate for the French Presidency, But then he tried to molest a maid in a New York hotel, and was accused and found guilty of sexual assault and attempted rape. Then it transpired that he was widely known to have been a sexual predator, only nobody had had the courage to speak out.

The Fox News Channel has recently had to fire or accept the resignation of several of its leading anchor-men (not women) because it transpired that the sexual harassment of female colleagues was virtually part of the organisation’s culture. Something similar seems to have been going on in the administration of the Uber ride-hailing company, though details have not been made public. As in the other cases cited above, women and girls who rejected the advances of the predatory men were threatened, bullied, sacked or paid off.

In England in recent years horrifying reports have emerged of the sexual abuse of young girls, often in institutions for the disabled , by leading entertainer Jimmy Saville. Saville was a national figure whose name and face were universally known and who counted prominent politicians and media personalities among his friends. Everyone knew about it at the time. Everyone turned a blind eye. And only when a few brave women spoke up, after Saville’s death and very grand official funeral, did the truth begin to emerge. Subsequently he was disinterred and reburied in an unmarked grave somewhere on a Yorkshire hillside, but the damage to countless young women had been done, and gone unpunished.

It’s hard not to wonder what makes some men behave in this way, but I suppose the simple answer is ‘because they can.’ Being in a position of power seems to do something to the male brain, or rather some other part of their anatomy, and they do not hesitate to take advantage of their situation.

Let’s not kid ourselves, Harvey Weinstein isn’t alone in Hollywood in using his power to demand sexual favours. In fact, this is virtually a tradition in the movie industry, dating back to the time of the original ‘movie moguls’ and the concept of the ‘casting couch.’ Reports abound of similar behaviour by male actors, directors, producers and others employed in the movie industry.

Some people blame the way women dress, walk, behave or otherwise comport themselves. Others point the finger at the lax morals of our generation, the messages projected by many movies, the easy access to methods of birth control or the general atmosphere of modern life.

Let’s face it, rape has existed for as long as humans have been around. It’s reported in the Bible, it’s part of the weaponry of warfare, and it can only be perpetrated by the male of the species. In the past it was by virtue of superior physical strength that men were able to overcome women’s resistance and today it’s their power in the workplace that has given them an additional edge.

One can only hope that naming and shaming the most blatant perpetrators will serve as a salutory lesson and serve to dissuade others from emulating them.

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Frantz; a Film Worth Seeing

06 Friday Oct 2017

Posted by fromdorothea in Uncategorized

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To celebrate my birthday we went to see the film ‘Frantz,’ not knowing quite what it was about. This joint French-German production was well-received by the critics, so it seemed like a good idea. At least, we thought, we’d be able to practise our French and/or German a little.

The film starts with a scene in 1919 Germany, i.e., just after the end of the First World War, when we see a beautiful young woman, dressed in black, putting flowers on the grave of her dead fiance, the man who is at the centre of the film.

The setting  is a small town with a distinctly provincial character, the people are dressed as one would expect of the period, and the buildings are equally of their time. As we enter the house where the young woman lives with the parents of her dead fiance, the shift to the interior is equally convincing. We see the Biedermeyer furniture and fittings, hear the silences, can almost smell the food that is served and admire the genteel bearing of the older couple. Everything conveys a sense of old-world courtesy and dignified behaviour.

The arrival of a young French man who, it is assumed, knew their son, throws everyone’s preconceived ideas into disarray. The father initially refuses to have anything to do with him, regarding all Frenchmen as murderers of his son. The mother is more open and accepting, and the young woman is attracted to his artistic nature and gentle demanour.

In this day and age of the European Union it is hard to fathom the hatred that formerly existed between France and Germany. At one point someone remarks that German children learn French at school and French children learn German. Throughout the film there is an undercurrent of irony as men on each side proclaim their patriotism and sing their respective national anthems with fervour. Sitting in the cinema we know where all this will lead, and feel for all those who will be caught up in the coming conflagration.

It is a telling moment when the father of the dead soldier confesses his guilt at having encouraged his reluctant son to enlist and fight for the fatherland. He says quite clearly that ‘we old men sent our sons to be killed,’ realising too late that his attitude was mistaken. If only the realisation had come earlier, and if only that attitude had not led to another war.

There are several logical flaws in the film, but the acting is superb and the message is convincing. We see all too clearly the ravages of war, and the futility of adhering to nationalist ideas on both sides. The faithful reproduction of the interior of the German middle-class home made me feel as if I were able to look into the homes of my own German grandparents.

Both my grandfathers fought for Germany in the First World War, even though they were married men with children. One grandfather was fortunate enough to die at home shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War, while the three other grandparents were murdered in concentration camps by their compatriots. I never knew any of them, but sitting in the cinema I felt as if I were seeing them, listening to the way they spoke, even seeing my grandmother doing her embroidery, serving dinner to her family, and conducting herself in a way that was empathetic, generous and kind. The speech of all the characters portrayed was invariably moderate, civilised and respectful of others.

I believe that all my grandparents were good, kind people whose lives were tragically cut short, depriving me and the rest of my family of their presence. The lack of grandparents has bothered me since I was a child, and it seems to be a part of me that just will not go away. I don’t know if it’s legitimate on my part to find solace in a fairly superficial commercial film, but it seems that I’m ready and willing to accept any substitute for the real thing.

 

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