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.