“Just write that Austria lost”

Long-time singer/ performer Madonna has readily admitted she’s interested in “being provocative and pushing people’s buttons.” Presumably this rates as another effort at being so. The Guardian:

….Speaking to French radio station Europe 1 in an interview … Madonna said “antisemitism is at an all-time high” in France and elsewhere in Europe, and likened the atmosphere to the period when German fascism was on the ascent.

“We’re living in crazy times,” the 56-year-old singer said, calling the situation “scary,”….

….“It was a country that embraced everyone and encouraged freedom in every way, shape or form – artistic expression of freedom,” Madonna said. “Now that’s completely gone.

“France was once a country that accepted people of colour, and was a place artists escaped to, whether it was Josephine Baker or Charlie Parker.”….

That commentary has unsurprisingly attracted attention in France. If you click on the picture below, or here, it will take you to the interview. Her words are translated into French, but one can hear her speaking English:

Europe 1 screen grab.
Europe 1 screen grab.

Obviously she has read and heard various things over the years, and knows just enoughdinner party” banter to sound informed. Listening to her throughout her career one has never been able to suppress a feeling that she is the proverbial “mile wide and an inch deep.” You never quite believe she knows nearly as much as she appears to position herself as knowing.

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Novelist Uncle Is In The Building

Well, I had an email exchange with my uncle last night. He knows now about my books completely – including my pen name and what underscores the stories.

The mask is off.

Wires everywhere! Part of my desk. [Photo by me, this morning.]
Wires everywhere! Part of my desk. [Photo by me, this morning.]

I can’t reproduce much of his note back to me. Lots of it is family stuff. But these extracts should give you the gist:

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More Late 20th Century Paris Photos

I’m glad a bunch of you liked yesterday’s post.

I’ve now about finished going through those 1990s 35mm photographs – sifting through them for any that might serve as cover art for the 3rd novel. Of course I won’t use nearly all of them: they may be good shots, but aren’t appropriate for the books. And sometimes I just plain can’t use them: that’s usually when they contain (non-public figures’) easily recognizable faces, and in a couple of instances that’s seriously frustrating stuff because I think they might work well. Ah, c’est la vie.

Regardless I converted a few into .jpg files. I figured just in case I do find I can use them, or even parts of them, I don’t have to go digging them up again later in the year. I thought I’d put up a few more today:

Bastille Day parade, Paris, July 1995. I don't recall which unit this was, but there are women in it. [Photo by me, 1995.]
Bastille Day parade, Paris, July 1995. [Photo by me.]
I don’t recall which unit that was. Look closely: there are women in it.

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From The Travel Photo Archive

In scoping out potential cover photos for the 3rd book, I paused yesterday to have a dig through old 35mm prints. Remember those (if you’re old enough)? It was called F-I-L-M.

I’d almost forgotten about this one. I can’t believe this is now approaching nineteen years ago. Almost TWO decades!

A famous landmark. In the foreground, a singer of some unidentified nationality was shooting a music video. [Photo by me, 1996.]
The Eiffel Tower (of course). [Photo by me, 1996.]
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Genève Aéroport

On Saturday, our ski week in France sadly ended. As all good things do. :-( We flew back to London from Geneva, Switzerland – which is about an hour’s drive from where we’d stayed in La Clusaz.

View from our chalet, La Clusaz, France. [Photo by me, 2015.]
View from our chalet, La Clusaz, France. [Photo by me, 2015.]
Geneva Airport isn’t huge. It feels rather “dated” as well. However, it also has corridors covered with wall ads for the likes of wealth management companies, astronomically expensive watches, Dubai, and stuff George Clooney’s hired to endorse; but before we got to any of that, we were in a mob scene at check-in.

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The Ghosts In Our Lives

I got an email yesterday from our former neighbo(u)r in Christchurch, Dorset. Sad news. Another neighbo(u)r, a widowed, later 80s-something Swiss woman we’d all known, died quietly in her sleep at home the other night.

She had been ill for some time, so her death wasn’t a huge surprise. But her passing prompted me into certain thoughts. As you may know, that’s usually dangerous territory.

Entry roundabout, La Clusaz, France. [Photo by me, 2015.]
Entry roundabout, La Clusaz, France. [Photo by me, 2015.]
Another roundabout, La Clusaz. [Photo by me, 2015.]
Another roundabout, La Clusaz. [Photo by me, 2015.]

I was last here in La Clusaz in 2003. Long before that, I knew nearby Grenoble. And Chambery. And Annecy.

We accumulate so much mental “baggage” over the years, don’t we? And we never really entirely forget, do we? Again in a vicnity, much comes rushing back. When one hears, sees, or even scents, we’re struck by a familiarity. You know what I mean? It’s that feeling of visiting an old haunt.

Yet if no one you knew there is around any longer, how does it also feel? Sort of disconcerting. The scenery and towns remain, but all of the people are strangers.

You think back on those you used to know, perhaps pondering on where they are now, and how they are. You may even stop and wonder indeed if they are all still alive? If decades have passed, it’s quite possible some aren’t any longer.

By now you had also already decided to try your hand at writing some novels and infusing them with certain memories of happenings from that old haunt and with those people. And when you find yourself back on that familiar turf, memories may become all the more vivid. In a way, you keep seeing “ghosts.”

If it all gets to be too much, sometimes the best thing we can do, though, is to stop with all of the wondering and introspection….

Me, snapped the other evening unexpectedly by my Mrs. and dinner companion. [Photo by Mrs. Nello, 2015.]
Me, snapped the other evening unexpectedly by my Mrs. and dinner companion. [Photo by Mrs. Nello, 2015.]

….and just enjoy dinner. :-)

Good Days And Bad Days

It’s a beautiful late afternoon now after a snowy, cloudy start here in La Clusaz, France – about an hour’s drive from Geneva, where we’d landed yesterday afternoon:

Snowy hillside, just outside La Clusaz, France. [Photo by me, 2015.]
Snowy hillside, just outside La Clusaz, France. [Photo by me, 2015.]

Where we’re staying…. the chalet owner and staff…. let’s just say there seems some future story “material” here. ;-)

Out and about today, my wife also said she saw some #jesuischarlie signs around some ski lifts.

Simultaneously it’s a lousy personal “anniversary” today:

Black

I “borrowed” that black page idea from Tristram Shandy. It pretty much sums up how I feel over her death February 2, 2014.

Although we’re on holiday, that doesn’t mean all is forgotten. She’s been on our minds and in our conversations a lot more in recent days. I suppose “one year” is one of those “milestones.”

Hope you’re having a good day, wherever you are. :-)

Our Fearless U.S. Media

A poster at the conservative National Review’s “The Corner” observed yesterday:

Before long the only art France will practice is the art of surrender

French journalist Anne-Elisabeth Moutet tweeted aptly in reply:

image

Indeed. It appears some brave souls in our U.S. media would love to find a way to re-dredge up the “surrender” nonsense. I had been wondering when we’d start to see it again.

I think this in my archives is worth a relink here today:

I_Drew_My_Pistol

Have a good Friday, wherever you are in the world. :-)

Slurring Language

Black British screenwriter and director Amma Asante jumped in on CNN yesterday in defense of actor Benedict Cumberbatch. He’d used the word “colo(u)red” on a U.S. TV talk show. She feels the anger directed at him for saying it is missing the point:

Opinion: Cumberbatch misspoke — now let’s get over it and fight real prejudice

Two countries separated by a common language. To understand Cumberbatch’s employing it requires first remembering that he’s not an American. It is now a decidedly “old-fashioned” word here in Britain, yes; but it is not unheard of coming very occasionally from younger whites (like Cumberbatch), although it’s far more likely to be uttered by one born before “1945.”

An older person I know had straight-faced congratulated me this way upon Obama’s election in 2008: “You have a coloured president now. America’s so much more open-minded. It’s wonderful.” Based on the contexts, as I’ve heard it, it is used as synonymous with “black.” Although it could certainly be tossed out as a slur or a put down, that’s not how I’ve (mostly) heard it said.

But how we internalize others’ descriptions of our race or ethnic background is intensely personal of course. I am not black and I would not presume to speak for anyone else as to how they interpret any description leveled at themselves. That said, the language issue raised there led me to recall a vivid, personal experience.

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Strolling By The Royal Crescent

I know, I know. [Hangs head contritely.] Sorry. I went all “academic” yesterday.

You may know I used to teach “Politics of Western Europe.” That guy on Fox just reminded me of a few students I’d known. Aside from the “French and perfect” finish, ;-) I realize now it was rather too heavy a post.

So today it’s back down off my soapbox. Hey, how about some Bath photos? Georgian English splendo(u)r.

First, a close up of a portion of one of those big, fold out walking maps:

Map of Royal Crescent corner area, Bath. [Photo of map by me, 2015.]
Map of Royal Crescent corner area, Bath. [Photo of map by me, 2015.]
I took these yesterday afternoon. We’re probably moving (yet again) in a few months, and were out apartment [flat] hunting:

Upper Church Street, next to the Royal Crescent. [Photo by me, 2015.]
Upper Church Street, next to the Royal Crescent. [Photo by me, 2015.]
Royal Crescent. [Photo by me, 2015.]
Royal Crescent. [Photo by me, 2015.]
View of part of the Royal Crescent, looking over a corner of Royal Victoria Park. [Photo by me, 2015.]
View of part of the Royal Crescent, looking over a corner of Royal Victoria Park. [Photo by me, 2015.]
The Royal Crescent homes were built starting in 1767. They are probably the quintessential “symbol” of Bath. So I decided to go all “tourist” myself and grab a few photographs.

It’s a shame it wasn’t sunnier. It had been. But by the time I took those it was approaching 4 pm, and the sun was fading for the day.

Have a good Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. :-)