I had never read any of the Harry Potter books until this summer. It is not that I have anything against wizards or witches -I have always been a great fan of Celtic literature, and am a sucker for anything linked to The Knights of the Round Table, King Arthur, Excalibur, Lancelot and Merlin!...to the extent that I find Monty Python’s cinematographic interpretation of the theme a rather vulgar disgrace to humanity’s imagination. However, fantastic literature, -the type written by Edgar Allan Poe, or by Guy de Maupassant-, or any literature containing spectacular creatures and alien worlds, like The Lord of the Rings, or The Hobbit, or science fiction in general, is really not my cup of tea…with the exception of the rather poetic Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles.
What bothered me more was the fact that there would be more than one Harry Potter book and what if I read the first one and liked it and then had to wait for the next one to be released? I do think I am patient…except when it comes to books: for instance, I am constantly checking whether Andrei Makine is publishing a new book or not; I love his style of writing so much that I never can get enough of it, and then devour the published book within 2 days…to then mourn until the next one is released. Such is my literary enthusiasm that it leads me to abysses of despair when a favorite author takes his or her time to fill my hunger.
So when the final, number 7, Harry Potter book was released on July 22, I knew I could start digging into the series. Now, for those of you curious to know how long it took me to read all 7 books: 10 days exactly, and I was not on vacation, but since we do not own cable or satellite TV in our household, entertainment is rather Spartan, and I read every day from about 7:00pm until 2:00am, and more at weekends.
And…I fell in love with Harry Potter! The books brought back memories of other books of course, like the Mallory School series I avidly read when I was 12, about a British boarding-school. J. K. Rowling’s genius is to have used some recurrent themes dear to an Englishman or woman’s heart, such as…boarding school, or the witches and wizards whose fates have been legendary since Camelot and Stonehenge, or even Quidditch which is a transformed polo game, broomsticks instead of horses! From book 1 to book 7, the intrigue darkens, and here again the author smartly called on the eternal fight between good and evil.
What qualifies it originally as children’s literature disappears with the death of a young contestant in Book 4, and from that book on, Harry Potter targets a more mature audience in my opinion. Blood purity, which is a major motive in the series reminds the reader of the 20th and 21st centuries past and ongoing ethnic cleansing…”Mudblood” stands for all the racist epithets that have been proffered since the Armenian Genocide, or even earlier the Jewish Pogroms in Tzarist Russia.
It is also an interesting fact that Book 1 had to have a different title in the US. The original title, as published in the UK, is Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. In the US, it becomes ‘…and the Sorcerer’s Stone”, as if it would be politically incorrect to assign an enchanted stone to a philosopher…when anyone who has studied the Middle Ages knows that philosopher meant alchemist, therefore the stone!
Lots of critics wonder whether J. K. Rowling has not sold her soul to the devil. Surf the internet and read the satanic accusations launched against her by some right-wing Christians: one becomes ashamed of calling oneself a Christian in front of so much ignorance and lack of culture! Some even say that there is no God in her books. There might not be the conventional idea of God known to most of us, but if we look deeper, we realize that because Love (of Harry’s parents for their son, of Harry for his friends) is omnipresent in the books, with another very religious theme such as sacrifice (that is what Harry’s mother does to protect him!), and if we contemplate the fact that God is love, then J.K. Rowling’s books contain more God’s presence than Tolkien’s or C.S. Lewis’s oeuvres.
Others have trouble grasping the extent and the depth of her imagination: how can one woman (on top of it all!) have thought of so many characters, monsters, creatures, and so on? Well, this summer, after having achieved my goal of reading all the Harry Potters, I went for my routine early morning run. I happened to be running in a small village along the banks of the river Lot. If you have spent some time in France in July and August, you know that it was rather crispy and cold, not at all a remake of the 2003 heat wave. As I was running over the bridge, I looked at the river and thought: “Dementors!”…I saw dementors coming out of the river! And that is when I realized that the inspiration for some of the creatures found in the Harry Potter books come from an acute observation of Nature: my dementors may have been J. K. Rowling’s ones too, I will never know, but my dementors were those thin to thick clouds of fog that raise from the river waters when the water temperature is higher than the air…and with the winds they looked like creatures from another world, armies of them, slowly advancing to give me the Kiss of Death!
It is time for all of us grumpy grown-ups to rediscover the joy of imagination. Enjoy!
Sarah Pickup-Diligenti © 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
A Republican's and a Democrat's Commonal Reactions to President Bush's Potential New Veto
One after the other: two positions from opposite side of the political spectrum (a short quote from a Republican Senator and a letter sent by Democrat and Evangelical Jim Wallis, better-known for his best-seller "God'sPolitics"). Point of convergence: the bill that would give US poorest children a chance at medical coverage.
Both the Republican and the Democrat justly fustigates President Bush for thinking of vetoing the bill.
I have always been a great fan of Jim Wallis and subscribed for a few years to his magazine "Sojourners". I also heard him speak at Politics and Prose a few years ago when his book was released. His letter to President Bush is right on the spot: the guy has lost all compassion!
Check sojourners@sojo.net
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You bet your sweet bippy I will."
- Sen. Orrin G. Hatch (R-Utah), when asked whether he would vote to override President Bush's threatened veto of a bill to expand the State Children’s Health Insurance Program (SCHIP). Sen. Hatch called the agreement "an honest compromise that improves a program that works for America's low-income children." (Source: The New York Times)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What Happened to You, Mr. President?
Dear Mr. President,
When I first heard that you were vowing to veto a bipartisan bill to expand child health care, my immediate thought was more personal than political: What has happened to you?
I vividly remember a call at the office, only one day after your election had been secured. It was an invitation to come to Austin to meet you and to discuss with a small group of religious leaders your vision for "faith-based initiatives" and your passion for doing something on poverty. I had not voted for you (which was no secret or surprise to your staff or to you), but you were reaching out to many of us in the faith community across the political spectrum who cared about poverty. I was impressed by that, and by the topic of the Austin meeting.
We all filed into a little Sunday school classroom at First Baptist, Austin. I had actually preached there before, and the pastor told me how puzzled he was that his "progressive" church was chosen for this meeting. You were reaching out. About 25 of us were sitting together chatting, not knowing what to expect, when you simply walked in without any great introduction. You sat down and told us you just wanted to listen to our concerns and ideas of how to really deal with poverty in America.
And you did listen, more than presidents often do. You asked us questions. One was, "How do I speak to the soul of America?" I remember answering that one by saying to focus on the children. Their plight is our shame and their promise is our future. Reach them and you reach our soul. You nodded in agreement. The conversation was rich and deep for an hour and a half.
Then when we officially broke, you moved around the room and talked with us one-on-one or in small groups for another hour. I could see your staff was anxious to whisk you away (you were in the middle of making cabinet appointments that week and there were key departments yet to fill). Yet you lingered and kept asking questions. I remember you asking me, Jim, I don't understand poor people. I've never lived with poor people or been around poor people much. I don't understand what they think and feel about a lot of things. I'm just a white Republican guy who doesn't get it. How do I get it? I still recall the intense and sincere look on your face as you looked me right in the eyes and asked your heartfelt question. It was a moment of humility and candor that, frankly, we don't often see with presidents.
I responded by saying that you had to listen to poor people themselves and pay attention to those who do live and work with the poor. It was a simple answer, but again you were nodding your head. I told my wife, Joy, also a clergyperson, about our conversation. Weeks later, we listened to your first inaugural address. When you said,
"America, at its best, is compassionate. In the quiet of American conscience, we know that deep, persistent poverty is unworthy of our nation's promise. And whatever our views of its cause, we can agree that children at risk are not at fault ... many in our country do not know the pain of poverty, but we can listen to those who do,"
my wife poked me in the ribs and smiled. In fact, you talked more about poverty than any president had for a long time in his inaugural address—and I said so in a newspaper column afterward (much to the chagrin of Democratic friends). They also didn't like the fact that I started going to other meetings at the White House with you or your staff about how to best do a "faith-based initiative," or that some of my personal friends were appointed to lead and staff your new Office of Faith-based and Community Initiatives at the White House. We brought many delegations of religious leaders, again from across the political spectrum, to meet with representatives of that office. Some of us hoped that something new might be in the air.
But that was a long time ago. We don't hear much about that office or initiative anymore. Most of my friends have long left. I don't hear about meetings now. And nobody speaks anymore about this new concept you named "compassionate conservatism." And now, you promise to veto a strongly bipartisan measure to expand health insurance for low-income children. Most of your expressed objections to the bill have been vigorously refuted by Republican senators who helped craft the bill and support it passionately. They vow to try and override your veto. During your first campaign, you chided conservative House Republicans for tax and spending cuts accomplished on the backs of the poor. Now Congressional Republicans are chiding you.
What happened to you, Mr. President? The money needed for expanding health care to poor children in America is far less than the money that has been lost and wasted on corruption in Iraq. How have your priorities stayed so far from those children, whom you once agreed were so central to the soul of the nation? What do they need to do to get your attention again? You will be literally barraged by the religious community across the political spectrum this week, imploring you not to veto children's health care. I would just ask you to take your mind back to a little meeting in a Baptist Sunday school classroom, not far away from where you grew up. Remember that day, what we all talked about, what was on your heart, and how much hope there was in the room. Mr. President, recall that day, take a breath, and say a prayer before you decide to turn away from the children who are so important to our nation's soul and to yours.
God bless you,
Jim Wallis
Both the Republican and the Democrat justly fustigates President Bush for thinking of vetoing the bill.
I have always been a great fan of Jim Wallis and subscribed for a few years to his magazine "Sojourners". I also heard him speak at Politics and Prose a few years ago when his book was released. His letter to President Bush is right on the spot: the guy has lost all compassion!
Check sojourners@sojo.net
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You bet your sweet bippy I will."
- Sen. Orrin G. Hatch (R-Utah), when asked whether he would vote to override President Bush's threatened veto of a bill to expand the State Children’s Health Insurance Program (SCHIP). Sen. Hatch called the agreement "an honest compromise that improves a program that works for America's low-income children." (Source: The New York Times)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What Happened to You, Mr. President?
Dear Mr. President,
When I first heard that you were vowing to veto a bipartisan bill to expand child health care, my immediate thought was more personal than political: What has happened to you?
I vividly remember a call at the office, only one day after your election had been secured. It was an invitation to come to Austin to meet you and to discuss with a small group of religious leaders your vision for "faith-based initiatives" and your passion for doing something on poverty. I had not voted for you (which was no secret or surprise to your staff or to you), but you were reaching out to many of us in the faith community across the political spectrum who cared about poverty. I was impressed by that, and by the topic of the Austin meeting.
We all filed into a little Sunday school classroom at First Baptist, Austin. I had actually preached there before, and the pastor told me how puzzled he was that his "progressive" church was chosen for this meeting. You were reaching out. About 25 of us were sitting together chatting, not knowing what to expect, when you simply walked in without any great introduction. You sat down and told us you just wanted to listen to our concerns and ideas of how to really deal with poverty in America.
And you did listen, more than presidents often do. You asked us questions. One was, "How do I speak to the soul of America?" I remember answering that one by saying to focus on the children. Their plight is our shame and their promise is our future. Reach them and you reach our soul. You nodded in agreement. The conversation was rich and deep for an hour and a half.
Then when we officially broke, you moved around the room and talked with us one-on-one or in small groups for another hour. I could see your staff was anxious to whisk you away (you were in the middle of making cabinet appointments that week and there were key departments yet to fill). Yet you lingered and kept asking questions. I remember you asking me, Jim, I don't understand poor people. I've never lived with poor people or been around poor people much. I don't understand what they think and feel about a lot of things. I'm just a white Republican guy who doesn't get it. How do I get it? I still recall the intense and sincere look on your face as you looked me right in the eyes and asked your heartfelt question. It was a moment of humility and candor that, frankly, we don't often see with presidents.
I responded by saying that you had to listen to poor people themselves and pay attention to those who do live and work with the poor. It was a simple answer, but again you were nodding your head. I told my wife, Joy, also a clergyperson, about our conversation. Weeks later, we listened to your first inaugural address. When you said,
"America, at its best, is compassionate. In the quiet of American conscience, we know that deep, persistent poverty is unworthy of our nation's promise. And whatever our views of its cause, we can agree that children at risk are not at fault ... many in our country do not know the pain of poverty, but we can listen to those who do,"
my wife poked me in the ribs and smiled. In fact, you talked more about poverty than any president had for a long time in his inaugural address—and I said so in a newspaper column afterward (much to the chagrin of Democratic friends). They also didn't like the fact that I started going to other meetings at the White House with you or your staff about how to best do a "faith-based initiative," or that some of my personal friends were appointed to lead and staff your new Office of Faith-based and Community Initiatives at the White House. We brought many delegations of religious leaders, again from across the political spectrum, to meet with representatives of that office. Some of us hoped that something new might be in the air.
But that was a long time ago. We don't hear much about that office or initiative anymore. Most of my friends have long left. I don't hear about meetings now. And nobody speaks anymore about this new concept you named "compassionate conservatism." And now, you promise to veto a strongly bipartisan measure to expand health insurance for low-income children. Most of your expressed objections to the bill have been vigorously refuted by Republican senators who helped craft the bill and support it passionately. They vow to try and override your veto. During your first campaign, you chided conservative House Republicans for tax and spending cuts accomplished on the backs of the poor. Now Congressional Republicans are chiding you.
What happened to you, Mr. President? The money needed for expanding health care to poor children in America is far less than the money that has been lost and wasted on corruption in Iraq. How have your priorities stayed so far from those children, whom you once agreed were so central to the soul of the nation? What do they need to do to get your attention again? You will be literally barraged by the religious community across the political spectrum this week, imploring you not to veto children's health care. I would just ask you to take your mind back to a little meeting in a Baptist Sunday school classroom, not far away from where you grew up. Remember that day, what we all talked about, what was on your heart, and how much hope there was in the room. Mr. President, recall that day, take a breath, and say a prayer before you decide to turn away from the children who are so important to our nation's soul and to yours.
God bless you,
Jim Wallis
Monday, August 6, 2007
Bill Maher on France
Bill Maher is being his usual truth-teller self...He loves us so much he slightly distorted the truth at the end: yes we are a green country but not the greenest; we are trying hard to be totally energy-independent but still depend on some Mideast oil, and our health care is not the best in the world..but not bad compared to the UK or the US.
Our worst fault might be accordion music but I would add our unemployement rate too.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Кто я без тебя - (Who am I without You)- TOKiO
This is EXCELLENT : the music goes so well with the clip. It could very well be a clip about the war in Iraq, if it were not in Russian...
TOKiO - When you crying (Когда ты плачешь)
This Russian group is musically gifted and very versatile. It's a change from Alla Pugacheva...
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Sacco and Vanzetti
This painting I saw last August at the MOMA in New York has been on my mind a lot. The commentary on the audio-guide was not entirely satisfactory, it sounded as if something was amiss, as if the commentator was not fully knowledgeable. His interpretation was only historical and I cannot help but feel that he missed the symbolism used by Ben Shahn.
If I look first at the three men behind the coffins, I notice that two of them are holding lilies, particularly white lilies. Now white lilies are the symbolic flower used at Easter, symbolic of the Passion of Christ, but also in a more general way of all martyrs' passion. Indeed, these two men may be merely regular undertakers, with their top hats, black frock-coats and the customary long faces imposed by any death. But standing on both sides of what appears to be a judge, they evoke the Trinity.
There has been more than one Trinity painting, and the most famous is probably Andrei Roubleev's Icon of the Angels' Visit to Abraham. In the same way, Ben Shahn has given iconic dimension to the painting. The judge with his red sash confirms again the martyrdom, red being the color of martyrs in Eastern Orthodox iconography. As it is, one can think of the Roman centurion standing by Christ's cross and confessing that yes, they have killed the Son of God.
The judge also appears to be losing his life. Has he realized his mistake? His skin color is in the same tone as that of Sacco and Vanzetti's in their rigor mortis.
The two columns in the background stand as vertically as the two coffins are horizontal. All these black and white lines (columns, stairs, the border above the poster) echo the architectural dimension of the three persons standing above the coffins. The same tone of brown has been used for the closed door of what one can imagine to be the court, and the coffins. The background, also neatly delineated, remains in the distance and the eye is really drawn to the three characters standing above the coffins, more than to the coffins and the sacrificed Sacco and Vanzetti.
I am still at a loss at understanding the meaning of both the poster, except that it would appear to be someone swearing to tell the Truth, and only the Truth, as well a the column-style lamppost on the side, which, by its constrasting color theme, seems out of context.
Tempera on canvas, Ben Shahn, 1931-32.
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