Friday, April 27, 2012
Day out with Ben
Last week I had the considerable pleasure of going with Ben and his dad Garry to see their team Partick Thistle FC play at Firhill Stadium in Glasgow. Thistle are one of the lesser teams in Scottish football but with a long, proud and fine history. I see from their website that their two major honours were to win the Scottish Cup in 1921, beating Glasgow Rangers at Parkhead, of all places, and then in 1971 they won the Scottish League Cup beating Celtic in the final.
I had a great time with Ben and Garry. Ben is a fine young boy, aged 7, almost 8, and it's a privelege to be in his company. Thank you Ben and Garry, too, of course. Who knows, in years to come, when I'm long gone Ben might read my blog and be reminded of the game. The result was a draw but Thistle were the better team and deserved to win, I thought.
Before the game we went for lunch to a fine cafe in Dumbarton Road, I forget the name, and then the boys took me for a walk along Byres Road, where I spent many days, and even more nights, many moons ago, or in the seventies to be precise, having fun and games and getting into various scrapes with Ben's grand dad, who just happens to be my wee brother, though not so wee, now or then.
I notice that Byres Road has it's own entry in Wikipedia, so if you want to find out more about that glorious street, thats the place to go.
Some of the old bars and cafes are still there, such as the Aragon, where drinkers used to queue in the street on a Friday and Saturday night to get in; and the Curlers up the road full of BBC staff from the studio in Queen Margaret Drive getting pissed; and Tennents Bar, where I worked for one night. And no, I was not sacked after one night, it was only a one night contract.
The University Cafe is still there down near the bottom of the street, still, presumably making the best bacon butties in Glasgow. A bacon buttie, for those of you from abraod, is a Scottish sandwich with bacon. Great for the Saturday morning hangover, not that one has these anymore, but the memory is pleasing to my senses.
Thats all for now. Tonight I'm going to see the Bob Marley movie, so really looking forward to that. It's had a very short release here in Edinburgh, one week only.
I had a great time with Ben and Garry. Ben is a fine young boy, aged 7, almost 8, and it's a privelege to be in his company. Thank you Ben and Garry, too, of course. Who knows, in years to come, when I'm long gone Ben might read my blog and be reminded of the game. The result was a draw but Thistle were the better team and deserved to win, I thought.
Before the game we went for lunch to a fine cafe in Dumbarton Road, I forget the name, and then the boys took me for a walk along Byres Road, where I spent many days, and even more nights, many moons ago, or in the seventies to be precise, having fun and games and getting into various scrapes with Ben's grand dad, who just happens to be my wee brother, though not so wee, now or then.
I notice that Byres Road has it's own entry in Wikipedia, so if you want to find out more about that glorious street, thats the place to go.
Some of the old bars and cafes are still there, such as the Aragon, where drinkers used to queue in the street on a Friday and Saturday night to get in; and the Curlers up the road full of BBC staff from the studio in Queen Margaret Drive getting pissed; and Tennents Bar, where I worked for one night. And no, I was not sacked after one night, it was only a one night contract.
The University Cafe is still there down near the bottom of the street, still, presumably making the best bacon butties in Glasgow. A bacon buttie, for those of you from abraod, is a Scottish sandwich with bacon. Great for the Saturday morning hangover, not that one has these anymore, but the memory is pleasing to my senses.
Thats all for now. Tonight I'm going to see the Bob Marley movie, so really looking forward to that. It's had a very short release here in Edinburgh, one week only.
Friday, April 13, 2012
El Sueno del Celta
When I was in Peru last year Mario Vargas Llosa had just published "El Sueno del Celta" ( The Dream of the Celt), which I'm looking forward to reading once it's available in English later this year. I don't think my Spanish is up to reading Vargas Llosa just yet, though I can make a reasonable stab at it. The book is based on the life of Roger Casement and his exposure of conditions for the people the Peruvian/Brazilian/Columbian Amazon lands under Western imperialism and of course his life in Ireland and in prison in London before his execution. It will be interesting to see what Mario has to say about it all.
W.G. Sebald also writes about Casement, amongst many other things and people in his book " The Rings of Saturn" which I may have mentioned before in a previous postings, but who deserves as many mentions as he can get. People who know about these things say he would have gone on to be awarded the Nobel Prize had he lived. Sadly he was killed in a motoring accident in 2001.
He managed to write some truly great books before he died, including one called "Austerlitz" which I'm about to read, maybe will be my next book. I bought it last week and it's on the list. I'm currently reading "Arthur and George" by Julian Barnes, which seems to be based on a true story involving our very own Conan Doyle, who is the Arthur character. Lovely little number, thanks to Emer for the present.
Sebald also writes about Conrad and his upbringing and his eventual journey to the Congo as a sailor on a Belgian ship. A trip which became the source for "Heart of Darkness". The Congo is the link to Casement who also went there and wrote a report for the British government about the conditions he found there, which were truly horrific. Ten million Africans are said to have been killed by the Europeans in what can only be desribed as an act of genocide. I don't think even Casement knew the extent of the brutality but he knew enough to know that he had to try to stop it. Of course the British government tried to suppress his report, as did the Belgians, who were the chief destroyers of that part of Africa.
It was at this time that Casement was sent off to South America. Just to get rid of him as he was a beginning to get on their nerves. They also gave him an honour, as he was awarded the CMG. another establishment ploy to silence individuals who are getting troublesome.
But they probably wished that they hadn't bothered sending him out to South America. He sent back reports on conditions in the Amazon areas of Peru, Columbia and Brazil, which were as bad if not worse than those he found in Congo. The only difference this time being that the company doing the exploitation was the Amazon Company, which was British owned and based in London. Whole tribes were wiped out of course and huge tracts of land destroyed in the search for profits.
The British government tried to silence him again by giving him another honour; he was given a knighthood and became Sir Roger. But he refused to compromise.
The rest is history as they say. He was hung by the British government for his support of the Irish republican cause. The prosecutor at his trial was an Ulster loyalist protestant called Frederick Smith, who was also the Director of Public Prosecutions. So the outcome was inevitable. And of course they used his diaries to divert attention away from all he said about the Congo, Peru, Brazil and Columbia.
W.G. Sebald also writes about Casement, amongst many other things and people in his book " The Rings of Saturn" which I may have mentioned before in a previous postings, but who deserves as many mentions as he can get. People who know about these things say he would have gone on to be awarded the Nobel Prize had he lived. Sadly he was killed in a motoring accident in 2001.
He managed to write some truly great books before he died, including one called "Austerlitz" which I'm about to read, maybe will be my next book. I bought it last week and it's on the list. I'm currently reading "Arthur and George" by Julian Barnes, which seems to be based on a true story involving our very own Conan Doyle, who is the Arthur character. Lovely little number, thanks to Emer for the present.
Sebald also writes about Conrad and his upbringing and his eventual journey to the Congo as a sailor on a Belgian ship. A trip which became the source for "Heart of Darkness". The Congo is the link to Casement who also went there and wrote a report for the British government about the conditions he found there, which were truly horrific. Ten million Africans are said to have been killed by the Europeans in what can only be desribed as an act of genocide. I don't think even Casement knew the extent of the brutality but he knew enough to know that he had to try to stop it. Of course the British government tried to suppress his report, as did the Belgians, who were the chief destroyers of that part of Africa.
It was at this time that Casement was sent off to South America. Just to get rid of him as he was a beginning to get on their nerves. They also gave him an honour, as he was awarded the CMG. another establishment ploy to silence individuals who are getting troublesome.
But they probably wished that they hadn't bothered sending him out to South America. He sent back reports on conditions in the Amazon areas of Peru, Columbia and Brazil, which were as bad if not worse than those he found in Congo. The only difference this time being that the company doing the exploitation was the Amazon Company, which was British owned and based in London. Whole tribes were wiped out of course and huge tracts of land destroyed in the search for profits.
The British government tried to silence him again by giving him another honour; he was given a knighthood and became Sir Roger. But he refused to compromise.
The rest is history as they say. He was hung by the British government for his support of the Irish republican cause. The prosecutor at his trial was an Ulster loyalist protestant called Frederick Smith, who was also the Director of Public Prosecutions. So the outcome was inevitable. And of course they used his diaries to divert attention away from all he said about the Congo, Peru, Brazil and Columbia.
Saturday, April 07, 2012
Dreams of Dylan Thomas and Stalin
I suppose it's about time I wrote another blog post for this blog. Don't know where all the time goes. I'm having a break from the writing class as it's Easter holiday at Edinburgh University. So no stories getting written either. We go back to classes in a couple of weeks.
Meantime I've started going to a Spanish conversation group with an organisation called Yackety yak. We meet in various cafes round Edinburgh, such as Henderson's and Bia Bistrot and chat. One meets all sorts and one has to be careful what one says. I offended a royalist recently. Which was nice. In retrospect. But the practice is good for me. Need to keep at it as my other class is over until September and it's so easy to forget what I've learnt up to now.
I've been reading some more Roberto Bolano recently, amongst other things. He's a Chilean writer, who died in Spain way too young. I read his book "The Savage Detectives" some time back and it's one hell of a memorable book. Highly recommended, if you have the time and I would suggest it's a good idea to find the time.
He tells about being arrested by the military in Chile in 1973 when he was 20 years old, at the time of Pinochet's coup. If I remember correctly he was held for ten days in a gym which was being used as a temporary prison at the time, as the army ran out of room in the prisons. He found some English language magazine where he read an article about the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas.
That night he had a dream that he saw Dylan Thomas and Stalin in a pub where the customers usually played arm wrestling, but Thomas and Stalin were having a drinking contest, with Thomas drinking whisky and Stalin drinking vodka. He doesn't say who won, but I like to think that old Dylan won. He doesn't explain what the dream meant to him, or maybe he does in some other place in his writings.
I wonder if he knew Victor Jara or if he ever met him? I guess he must have done at some time. Jara was also arrested by the military in Chile in 1973. But he was less fortunate. He was a poet, singer, writer and guitarist. He was held in Santiago stadium, which I think has been renamed and is now called Victor Jara stadium, and as a special bit of torture the soldiers smashed his hands and fingers so he could no longer play guitar. But he continued to sing. They finally killed him but not before playing Russian roulettte with a gun held to his head, until finally a bullet was fired.
Many years ago my pal Iain MacDonald wrote a song about Jara which and his death in the stadium. I still have the album, though it sits unlistened to for many years as I don't have a working amp anymore. I often wonder what became of Iain? He was in the old Communist party for a while back then. I would love to see him again and see where life took him.
Thats all for now. More tomorrow.
Meantime I've started going to a Spanish conversation group with an organisation called Yackety yak. We meet in various cafes round Edinburgh, such as Henderson's and Bia Bistrot and chat. One meets all sorts and one has to be careful what one says. I offended a royalist recently. Which was nice. In retrospect. But the practice is good for me. Need to keep at it as my other class is over until September and it's so easy to forget what I've learnt up to now.
I've been reading some more Roberto Bolano recently, amongst other things. He's a Chilean writer, who died in Spain way too young. I read his book "The Savage Detectives" some time back and it's one hell of a memorable book. Highly recommended, if you have the time and I would suggest it's a good idea to find the time.
He tells about being arrested by the military in Chile in 1973 when he was 20 years old, at the time of Pinochet's coup. If I remember correctly he was held for ten days in a gym which was being used as a temporary prison at the time, as the army ran out of room in the prisons. He found some English language magazine where he read an article about the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas.
That night he had a dream that he saw Dylan Thomas and Stalin in a pub where the customers usually played arm wrestling, but Thomas and Stalin were having a drinking contest, with Thomas drinking whisky and Stalin drinking vodka. He doesn't say who won, but I like to think that old Dylan won. He doesn't explain what the dream meant to him, or maybe he does in some other place in his writings.
I wonder if he knew Victor Jara or if he ever met him? I guess he must have done at some time. Jara was also arrested by the military in Chile in 1973. But he was less fortunate. He was a poet, singer, writer and guitarist. He was held in Santiago stadium, which I think has been renamed and is now called Victor Jara stadium, and as a special bit of torture the soldiers smashed his hands and fingers so he could no longer play guitar. But he continued to sing. They finally killed him but not before playing Russian roulettte with a gun held to his head, until finally a bullet was fired.
Many years ago my pal Iain MacDonald wrote a song about Jara which and his death in the stadium. I still have the album, though it sits unlistened to for many years as I don't have a working amp anymore. I often wonder what became of Iain? He was in the old Communist party for a while back then. I would love to see him again and see where life took him.
Thats all for now. More tomorrow.
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