Games We Played

This well-written book by Shawn Steiger is about people, specifically the two main characters, who have psychological and sexual hangups and issues which complicate their lives, as well as those of the people around them. The chapters are written from the viewpoints of the two main characters, Rachel, now an actress in the New York area, and Stephen, a rather mixed-up young man and military drop-out, living in California. As children Rachel and Stephen lived near one another and played together, though their games sometimes involved some kind of sexual element. In addition, Stephen had been indoctrinated with neo-Nazi ideology by his grandfather, with whom Stephen and his mother lived, and this penetrated their childhood games. Rachel had what was seemingly a normal family, with a psychiatrist father and home-maker mother.

At the beginning of the book Rachel’s paternal grandmother and Holocaust survivor, Gladys, moves in with the family. Her first action is to impose the regime of an observant Jewish life on the other members of the family, involving making the kitchen kosher, attending synagogue, and teaching Rachel Hebrew. The graphic account of the almost brutal way this was done leaves the reader reeling, and casts a shadow over the subsequent life of the family.

Without giving away too much of the story, suffice it to say that the charaters’ lives follow a trajectory that at first drives them apart and later brings them together, as the time-line switches almost at random between their childhood and the games they played, and their adult lives with all the tensions and emotions of adult relationships with friends and lovers.

The author paints an authentic picture of the people and places in which the story is set (New York and California), and the reader gradually uncovers more and more of the background to the development of each of the individuals portrayed. Things (and people) are not what one assumes them to be, and the twists and turns in the narrative leave us wondering what is true and what is fabrication in their backgrounds. The addition of the neo-Nazi element in contemporary American society provides further authenticity to the story as it unfolds, creating a threatening atmosphere that rings true.

I enjoyed reading this book for its psychological insights into what were new worlds for me, as well as its telling portrayal of the internal conflicts and battles of the main characters. Anyone interested in contemporary American culture should read it.

Old Orleans

Just over a week ago, while en route to Paris on our way home to Israel, we stopped to take a brief look at the famous city of Orleans, one of France’s foremost historical sites, and associated indelibly with Joan of Arc, a.k.a. the Maid of Orleans.

Because of its location on one of the northern-most bends of the River Loire, the city was always an important trading port. After the city was destroyed by Julius Caesar, the Roman emperor Aurelian rebuilt it, naming it after himself, and this became ‘Orleans’ in the local dialect.

During the Hundred Years waged between France and England in the fifteenth century, a young peasant girl, Joan of Arc, born in north-eastern France to simple peasants, claimed to have heard a divine message telling her that she had been chosen save France and install the heir to the throne, the Dauphin Charles, to his rightful position at the head of the monarchy.

She managed to convince Charles that she was divinely inspired and protected and, with his support, led troops into battle against the English who were entrenched in Orleans. With her at their head, the French fighting force defeated the English and raised the siege of Orleans. She also managed to have Charles crowned king of France at Rheims in 1429. However, her enemies at court persuaded the king, now Charles VII, to abandon her, and she fell into the hands of the English enemy, who tried her as a witch, accusing her of heresy for having cut her hair short and donned men’s clothes.

After being imprisoned for a year, she was burned at the stake, but her fame continued to grow and her memory to be revered, until in 1909 she was beatified in Notre Dame cathedral.

We visited the city’s Cathedral of the Holy Cross, so called because it purports to have pieces of the original cross given to it by Saint Helena, the mother of Emperor Constantine, the first emperor to accept Christianity. The imposing neo-gothic building has been built and rebuilt several times in the thousand-plus years of its existence, and among its most impressive features are the stained-glass windows depicting the life of Joan of Arc. The young volunteer guide who escorted us helped us to perceive the various scenes in the saint’s life, and their nineteenth-century artist has managed to provide a highly imaginative and graphic account of Joan’s tumultuous and extraordinary life.

The city is also home to one of Europe’s oldest universities, and hosted the religious reformer John Calvin in the sixteenth century. The English king, Henry VIII, made use of Calvin’s teachings in his struggle with the Pope in pursuit of a divorce. As a mark of his gratitude he donated money to the university.

The centrsl part of the town comprises spotless broad streets, its paving stones occasionally interspersed with copper plaques bearing the town’s emblem, which depicts Joan of Arc on horseback, flying a banner. Her own banner, which went everywhere with her, bore the words ‘Jesus, Maria,’ but the Latin words on the copper plaques are the name given to it by the Roman emperor: Aurelius Cenabum (City of Aurelius).

Brave or Foolish?

“You’re very brave to travel abroad in these times,” we were told by various friends and acquaintances, both at home and abroad, when referring to our recent trip to France. The underlying message was that we were being foolish to risk our health by boarding a plane and going to the area in central France where we have spent our summers for the last few years, but had to miss it last year.

During those visits we have learned to love the easygoing way of life there, the beautiful countryside and the friends we have acquired. It goes without saying that we have also enjoyed the restaurants and the interaction with the local population, enabling us to exercise – and hopefully improve – our command of the French language.

Admittedly, the bureaucratic and medical requirements associated with travelling these days were a heavy burden. In addition to filling out complicated forms before each flight, we had to be tested for the Coronavirus as well as taking out health insurance which, because of our advanced age, has become very expensive.

Nonetheless, we were not daunted, and although the weather in France was mostly cold and occasionally even rainy, we considered the money well-spent. It seemed strange to have to wear sweaters in July, and even sit ensconced in a blanket when inside, but it was no worse, and perhaps even better, than enduring the sweltering heat that prevailed in Israel just then.

Getting away from our usual routine, however enjoyable, turned out to be good for us. We both managed to read books at a rate we cannot aspire to in Israel, to enjoy one another’s company without having to compete with all the other demands on our partner’s attention, and to ‘wind down’ in a way that is simply impossible for us while in Israel.

Driving along a country road is a pleasure in itself, and the courtesy and consideration displayed by drivers is unbeatable. Even on the motorways drivers hardly ever cut in on one another or engage in tailgating – behaviour that is almost the norm in Israel. Hand-sanitising gel is to be found at the entrance to every shop, restaurant, business or café, and there are constant reminders to keep distance from others.

Our last couple of days were spent en route for Paris. We stayed overnight in the town of Orleans and managed to visit its impressive cathedral with stunning stained-glass windows portraying the events involving Joan of Arc. Stricter regulations to prevent the spread of Corona had just been introduced in France, and so we were required to present our ‘Green Passport,’ before we could enter the breakfast area of the hotel. Before touring the buffet there each guest was required to take a pair of large black plastic tongs (pince) with which to take food (see photo). I wonder if anything like that is being tried by any Israeli hotel.

Going through the airports at either end was more complicated and demanding than in the past, and the cramped conditions on the plane were no great pleasure. But despite all this, it was worth it. We’re happy to be home, in the bosom of our family and friends once more, but we’re not sorry we made the effort. I don’t know how long we’ll continue to feel the psychological benefit, but I’m enjoying it while I can.

What Price Global Warming?

‘Where has the summer gone?’ people all over central France, where we have been spending the last few weeks, keep asking. Many of those people, like my OH and myself, have come to this part of the world to get away from the dreary climate in other parts of the world (e.g., the U.K.) or, as in our case, from the stifling summer heat of Israel. Day after day the sky has been cloudy and grey, the rain has fallen, either as drizzle or in sudden showers, and the temperature has dropped to the extent that I often sit inside wrapped in a warm blanket to stave off the cold.

To make matters worse, the traditional ‘Polyglot Picnic,’ organised by a friend in order to bring French and English-speaking residents of the area together, was forced to come to a sudden end when a (predicted) downpour arrived. Since most of the participants were originally from the U.K. (I won’t say England, as some were from Wales and might take offence) and not unused to this kind of weather, we were wearing warm clothes and stout shoes, and were all equipped with umbrellas. As the picture shows, the brollies came out when the rain began. We tried to stay at our posts, but the weather soon became too much, even for us hardy souls, and a hasty — and slightly muddy — retreat was beaten. Still, the company was great, and we enjoyed meeting up with our friends. Those of us who were visiting from abroad shared tales of the intrepid endeavours we had to endure in order to get to our destination.

Meanwhile, other parts of the world suffer floods and fires, and the dreaded Covid 19 is on the rampage again, though that does not necessarily have anything to do with global warming. I have experienced heat waves in Israel before, but this year’s seems to be longer than those the past. Forest fires, too, are nothing new, but possibly their extent and ferocity has also been greater than in the past. I’ve been told that I had to be taken out of the film ‘Bambi’ as a child because I was screaming in terror at the sight of the forest fire and the devastation it caused. Not that that really proves anything.

But all in all or time in France has been very enjoyable. We have managed to take walks in the beautiful countryside, meet old and new friends, visit and eat at our favourite restaurants and generally enjoy the peaceful atmosphere. Probably the fact that we do not watch TV while we’re away from our home in Israel contributes to our relaxed mood, though we do keep in touch with events there through the internet, and of course there’s always the family WhatsApp.

One of our last outings was to go with friends to a nearby restaurant with a stunning view and an admirable menu (and excellent service). Imagine my surprise when one of our party whipped out his cell-phone, took a photo of the bottle of wine we had ordered to accompany the meal, then checked it on an app on his phone that gave grades, prices and other details about wines. So now we know that in addition to having chosen a recommended wine we also paid well over the shelf price for it. But that is the way of restaurants all over the world, isn’t it? And what with all the ‘amuse bouches’ and extras accompanying the dessert, we certainly didn’t come away hungry. And that’s another (though not unique) feature of life in this part of France — the generosity and kindness of the people.