Catadonia

Master Margarit

Mon, 20 Oct 2008 23:51:42 +0200

Joan Margarit has won a host of awards including Spain’s national poetry prize for his book “Casa de misericòrdia”. No, I haven’t made a mistake there – Joan (pronounced Show-Ann) is a man’s name in Catalonia.

Margarit is also an architect and that might be why there is a clarity about his poems. They get to the point and are not too wordy.

“You can only be a realist. There is nothing more than reality to write about,” says Joan.

Without doubt, he is a poet well worth checking out. You can find some of his work in English at this website.

www.joanmargarit.com/

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Why I Don't Write About Rivers Any More

Fri, 03 Oct 2008 00:22:55 +0200

From my window, at Fontajau, a peaceful little barrio, I can watch the Ter making its way through the outskirts of Girona. It passes by the bingo hall and the local brothel with its big neon arrow pointing to the front door. The Ter resists temptation and sneaks on down past the weeping willows at Pedret.

This river and I go back a few years now. I used to live in a smaller town in the more remote interior of Catalonia, one hour west of here. The Ter also skirted the edge of that village, flowing on through Torelló and Manlleu before arriving in Roda de Ter, home of Miquel Marti i Pol, a very fine poet indeed who spent his whole life living by the river.

Having just moved out of Girona’s old town where revellers sing and shout in Catalan, Spanish and English, until 3 am; peace and quiet is high on my priority list. I even saw a mink the other day as I crossed Pont de la Barca at the edge of the Devesa Park. It was oblivious to my gaze, charging through the water, full of intent, wreaking havoc among the carp population before pulling itself up onto some driftwood and drying itself off.

I may technically still be on foreign soil but I know this river’s background as it trundles on towards its Costa Brava estuary. I have lived in so many places in recent years and need to go regress, even if only for a few hours.

What is there left for poets to say about rivers?

I’ve said my piece but I expect somebody else will think of something. There are metaphors and motifs that have been done to death: the return to the source, continuity, peace and tranquillity. But each individual can put their own stamp on them. Years ago, I got a lot out of reading Neil Gunn novels like Highland River or A River Runs Through it by Norman Maclean. The latter sank its hook into me right from the off with one of the most memorable first sentences I’ve read in a novel: “In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing.”

The Findhorn, my own highland river, is just five minutes walk from my mother’s house. It’s one of my favourite places in the world and a place of peace and inspiration, no matter the weather. The finest spot of all is at the old wooden bridge over to the village of Broom of Moy. The river is wide there and flanked by woods on either side. Solitary fishermen wade out over large stones and spend hours there in the hope a fit salmon will be lured into having a bite. You can lurk in the broom and startle the odd heron, causing it to circle unexpectedly. Wherever I happen to be in the world, the River Findhorn is my mental point of return and a port to sleep in whenever life gets too stormy.

On The River Findhorn is the first poem in my new chapbook, Shellfish and Umbrellas

http://www.koopress.co.uk

A River Runs Through It

Comments

A Bit Fishy

Mon, 28 Jul 2008 19:41:09 +0200

I’ve seen quite a bit of daft translation recently. My reason for posting it is not to have a laugh at how bad foreigners are at speaking English. That would be a bit rich when English-speakers are generally among the worst or laziest at learning foreign languages. Fair enough if it gives people a laugh but the point of this post is to show what can happen when you translate literally using translation tools or when you don’t employ an experienced native English-speaking translator.

When deciding to save a few quid on a decent translator, businesses should be aware that it might result in their enterprise being ridiculed and to possible subsequent lost trade as it makes them look unprofessional.

This English menu comes from a tapas bar near the Puerta del Sol in the heart of Madrid:

Shark in Seasoning
Fried Chopitos
Friedsquids
Fritter of Fish Changed
Shrimps to the Chopped Garlic
Small Squids to the Plate
Tail of Bull
Sausages to the Cider
Smoke Ham to the Galician
Iberian Ham
Cured Manchego Cheese

Well they got two or three right anyway.

Comments

Global Warming

Fri, 25 Apr 2008 18:04:29 +0200

"The rich countries can take measures. In the Netherlands, they create floating houses to combat floods. In Vietnam, they just teach people to swim."

-Ruhal Ahmed, A UN Development Officer

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Thoughts on the Spanish General Election

Sat, 08 Mar 2008 20:09:50 +0100

It’s the Spanish general election tomorrow. The ruling party, PSOE (Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party) was slightly ahead in the polls last week. Opinion polls cannot be published in the six days before the election in case they influence the result. But if PSOE is to stay in power they may need to form a coalition with some of the Catalan and/or Basque nationalist parties.

Last time around the general election took place in the wake of the March 11 bombing in Madrid. It is thought to have had a major bearing on the result. This time, a former socialist councillor was shot dead two days before the election. Who knows how this could affect tomorrow’s result.

This week, it has been interesting for me to talk to people at my work in an attempt to try to gauge public opinion. I’ve been struck by the fact that a few people who see themselves as either left-leaning or certainly not peperos (followers of the opposition Partido Popular), think that the Spanish immigration laws need to be severely tightened up and that immigrants are at the heart of many of the problems in modern Spanish society.

In my view, the PP has been playing if not the race card, then certainly the immigrant card. If people who do not see themselves as traditional PP supporters have been won over by this view, then I’d say Mariano Rajoy’s party has a good chance of attracting many floating voters in a number of areas. For that reason, I would not write off the PP’s chances of achieving a largely unexpected victory.

In recent times, Spain has become a country people want to come to live and work in, rather than a European backwater to escape from. Many Spaniards are struggling to come to terms with the increasing number of immigrants. Others are exploiting it for political gain. Rajoy likes to use the word “avalanche” to describe the recent wave of immigration that Spain and many other EU countries have experienced and encouraged. To hear some people talk (Rajoy among them), you’d think crime was virtually non-existent in Spain until all the immigrants arrived.

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Practicality or Simply Prejudice?

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 16:38:19 +0100

One argument I hear often is that there’s not much point in learning languages like Galician or Catalan and that you’d be better off learning say, Chinese. In the great scheme of things that might be true enough. But where the argument falls down is when it is put forward by people who live in Galicia or Catalonia, people who may well come into contact with the said regional languages on a daily basis.

It may be useful to learn a language like Chinese these days, if for instance, you intend to travel to China or encounter Chinese clients in your work. But if not, then what is it about learning Chinese that makes it of more practical use?

I merely use Chinese as an example. The same could be said of many other international languages that have a far higher number of speakers than Catalan or Galician does.

The crux of the matter might be, as a student of mine in A Coruña who had no interest in learning Galician observed, “many people in Spain do not think of regional languages as proper ones”.

There are many reasons for this outlook. It is too deep a subject for me to go into here, but chief among them is probably the fact that neither is the principal language of the state.

It’s kind of funny though, when they are co-official languages in the autonomous communities of Galicia and Catalonia. Co-official, yet somehow inferior. And in the case of Catalan, it is more widespread than many people are aware of, being the official language of Andorra, and also spoken in a number of Mediterranean islands (including Sardinia), as well as parts of southern France.

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Spain's Most Visited Tourist Attractions

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 22:52:23 +0100

The most vistited monuments and museums in Spain in 2007 were:

1. Alhambra, Granada, Moorish fortress comes out tops with over three million visitors.
2. Sagrada Familia, Barcelona, Gaudi's ongoing architectural experiment.
3. Prado,Madrid, museum hosting many classic art treasures.
4. Reina Sofia, Madrid, modern art museum in the Spanish capital.
5. Dali Museums, various museums in Catalonia associated with the nutty artist.
6. Guggenheim, Bilbao, (pictured).
7. Thyssen, Madrid, yet another fine art museum in the capital.
8. Macba, Barcelona, Catalonia's principal modern art museum.
9. Picasso Museum, Malaga, the city where the celebrated artist was born.

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Cinema Seats Aplenty

Thu, 24 Jan 2008 12:38:53 +0100

Twenty million fewer cinema tickets were sold in Spain in 2007. Sales dropped 16% from 122m to 102m in what was the third consecutive annual fall.

Spain is not unique in this respect. Many countries are similarly affected as people find other ways of watching new films or leisure time alternatives.

The USA bucks the trend with more tickets sold over the last three years, although more Americans were going to the cinema in 2002.

Based on info from El País, 16th Jan. 2008

Comments

Hey Mickey!

Thu, 17 Jan 2008 21:17:23 +0100

Mairi Simpson writes from Edinburgh to say: “Uncool as it is, I like Mickey by Toni Basil.”

My outstanding memory of this song is that it was the era of leg warmers. A strange fashion that seems to have made something of a comeback. Why not just get yourself a big thick pair of woollen socks that can virtually talk the Gaelic? Footless tights. Body warmers. What is the point of these things?

I got a body warmer from Ingleston Market in Edinburgh around the same time I bought my first singles there. They could easily feature here: Pretend by Alvin Stardust and the slightly more respectable Kings of the Wild Frontier by Adam and the Ants. My sister bought Hands Up by Ottowan.

I don’t recall wearing the body warmer much after I got home and back into my normal environment. I like brown clothes today but it wasn’t a stylish choice for a young loon. It soon went into the cupboard along with the sweatbands and the brown boots my dad got from his work at Ardersier oil yard. He said they were better value than Doc Martens. I wasn’t convinced. Even less so when I first wore them to school one cold January morning in 1982. I was laughed out of the music class by the respectable DM wearers. These cool dudes referred to my workman’s boots as “Clodhoppers”.

The next mistake was the sweatshirt I wore to school with “Lopez” written on it. Later the same year there was a Spanish player in the World Cup called Lopez Ufarte. That led to me being known as Ufarte for a short time.

These things happen to everyone I suppose. Children are cruel and anyone who claims their schooldays were the best of their lives should take a moment to reflect on this type of thing.

It comes as a surprise to me that Toni Basil didn't actually wear legwarmers. Ra-ra skirts are another story from that era but at least I wasn’t among the unfortunate males who turned up for class with their legs wrapped up in this ridiculous fashion. Bear in mind this was a few years before the likes of Motley Crew or Bon Jovi became popular. If these boys were fans of Fame, they would’ve been better keeping that to themselves as well. There was no macho street-cred to be gained from any of this. Did their mothers have a sick sense of humour? Why the loons didn’t peel them off as soon as they got out of the house I’ll never know. Maybe they were masochists.

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The Sun Always Shines On TV

Wed, 19 Dec 2007 23:57:04 +0100

This is a new feature where I invite friends to confess to their secret love of uncool songs (from the late 70’s or 80’s). If I have a personal memory relating to the song, I will write something around it.

First up is Alan Gaskin. He writes from Glasgow to say: “I really liked A-ha and I still do. Some of their tracks still hold up well today.”

Well Alan, I’m not sure about that. It's a struggle to get to the end of this video but the song takes me back to 1985 and my first proper job. I use the term loosely as work involved a forty-hour week including most Saturdays for a pittance of pay on theYouth Training Scheme – twenty seven pound thirty I got or thereabouts. Why it wasn’t a more rounded figure remains a mystery. Perhaps we were supposed to celebrate with a bag of Monster Munch or two when the week was over.

I was working in a supermarket and went once a week on day release to college in nearby Elgin. The classes took place in a function room in the Gordon Arms.

Occasionally, these classes provided an opportunity to meet up with one or two schoolmates I’d said farewell to just a few months before. Robbie Scott was also working in a supermarket somewhere. All the youngsters had placements in supermarkets or grocers in the Moray area; apart from Craigie Mac who was an apprentice panel beater in a garage somewhere out Dallas way. That’s Dallas, Moray, not Texas. They have little in common.

It didn’t trouble Craigie Mac that he was in a class talking about retail chains, customer services, shelf-filling and queue reduction at checkouts. Maybe it was a pleasant enough change to sit in a warm hotel instead of rubbing down car bonnets and inhaling paint fumes. He ploughed on with his day release for a few months, perhaps thinking that it was as relevant to his vocation as most of what he had been studying at school before summer.

Craigie Mac and I soon struck up our old school friendship due in the main to our mutual interest in cranking pipes and bevvy sessions. He was more skilled in the former and myself in the latter.

It wasn’t that easy to find classmates who were up for a good drink on a Tuesday afternoon. Most hadn’t yet lapsed into such bad habits and maybe even wanted to learn the rudiments of retail, but for me the arrival of the panel beater on the scene was a godsend.

One dinnertime, we crossed the humpback bridge over the railway line and headed for Fine Fare’s carry out counter. I might have just turned sixteen but rarely had a problem purchasing alcohol and was well versed in asking for it in a matter of fact way and in showing great surprise and looking a little offended if I was ever asked my age.

We then had to down the Scrumpy Jack as fast as possible, so it was thrown back in the car park and then a furtive pipe was partaken of under the humpback bridge.

By the time we arrived back at the hotel centre we were both struggling a bit. Not only that but the regional training manager had decided to put in an appearance. Kerr enjoyed a good confrontation. Only weeks prior to this he’d phoned my parents to check I was genuinely ill after I’d missed a couple of days college and the odd day of work. I really was sick on the day in question with a bad stomach bug. My dad didn’t have much time for his manner either and informed Kerr that if he still had doubts he was “welcome to come to the hoose and hae a look at the shitey drawers in the washing basket”.

Kerr was trying to joke with the other trainees as we tumbled in and took our seats. He asked us where we’d been. A smoke always made me go quiet and introverted but Craigie Mac was buoyed up by the cider and did the talking.

“Having a slash.”

This pissed Kerr off as it got a bigger laugh than any he’d managed so far.

“Think you’re funny, do you?”, asked Kerr, adjusting his glasses and sweeping back the dyed black hair on his head in a fashion that suggested he thought he was as cool as Morten Harket.

“Funnier than you probably.”

Robbie Scott let out a loud snigger. Then apologised and pretended to blow his nose. Kerr looked at him then turned his attentions back to Craigie Mac.

“Oh, is that so? And where do you work?”

“Dowles,” said Craigie Mac.

Kerr looked puzzled.

“Where’s that?”

“Dallas,” the trainer said. “He works in Dallas.”

“Dallas? I don’t think we have anyone in Dallas. Is there a supermarket in Dallas? Which store do you work for?”

“Beel’s Garage,” said Craigie Mac.

Again, that got a louder chuckle than Kerr’s supermarket gag.

“What do you sell in this garage?”

“Nothing. I’m a panel beater.”

“A panel beater? It hasn’t occurred to you that you might be in the wrong class?”

He turned to the trainer. “How long has MacGilvary been coming here?”

“A few weeks, I think” said the trainer, consulting the register while her face turned as red as her hair.

Kerr frowned then clasped his hands to his mouth as if in despairing prayer. Meanwhile, Scrumpy Jack fumes were invading the room.

“Are you drunk son or are you just thick?”

“Fuck you, ya old dick,” said Craigie Mac. “I’m oota here.”

He threw his desk up in the direction of Kerr and they dragged each other out of the room. We listened in amused wonderment as they exchanged words and blows in the corridor.

It was Craigie Mac’s last day at the college. I don’t know if he went on to become a successful panel beater but judging by the shiner Kerr wore later, Craigie was pretty handy with his fists.

Comments

Burroughs' Thanksgiving Prayer

Fri, 23 Nov 2007 01:36:29 +0100

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The Ikea Divorcee

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 01:53:08 +0100

We bought a suite here
before marriage went sour.

Now it’s just me
and aspiring couples
plugging space.

This ship of fools
on a minimal sea,
tomorrow’s charity shops
find comic relief.

I help myself to pencils
draw a line over you
and join the Ikea Family.

The food’s not bad
for those with appetite.

I buy a whippy ice cream
and stick a pencil in it.

My thumb obstructs the tip
bleeds all over the raspberry sauce

Ikea Suicide Bid the headline says
but exits are hard to find.

Comments

Flaming Criminal

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 00:56:57 +0100

Next week Enric Stern and Jaume Roura will face trial for burning images of the Spanish monarchs in Girona. Public prosecutor Ignacio Gordillo is demanding they get 15 months in jail for serious offences against the Crown.

Comments

Reading in Foreign Languages

Tue, 30 Oct 2007 00:55:42 +0100

I recently read a book in Portuguese. There is always a great sense of achievement in finishing a book in a foreign tongue and even more so when it the first one you have read in the language.

Studying foreign languages has been one of my favourite pursuits for some years now so I suppose I’ve learned from experience what kind of material is best read by a relative novice. By that I mean someone who has spent a year or two getting to grips with the basics and can get the gist of newspaper articles and so on. Here are a couple of observations:

Read things of interest. That’s why I read about history, politics, current affairs, sport and travel rather than IT or car maintenance. I just read 150 pages of sparse text in Portuguese outlining the Renaissance. Maybe not everyone’s cup of tea but I am already familiar with the subject, its typical terminology and can anticipate key events, names and places that are likely to appear. In that way, I already know the main outline of the “story” and am not jumping into totally unknown territory.

Don’t start with anything too complicated. I could have added literature or poetry to the above list but it can be difficult enough to read and understand in my own language at times. I’m not at the stage where I feel able to cope with the subtleties of metaphors, symbolism and humour in Portuguese. If you are brave enough to give literature a go then make sure the plot is not complex or the writing too sophisticated. In other words, I didn’t start with Saramago in Portuguese in the same way that my first English reader wasn’t the works of Shakespeare.

Comments

Flag Day

Sat, 13 Oct 2007 23:25:56 +0200

It was the Spanish national holiday on Friday and there was no shortage of talking points. Mariano Rajoy, the opposition leader from the Partido Popular had urged citizens to get their Spanish flags out and to “respect the symbols”. The latter was a reference to the recent burning of images of the monarchs, which has been happening of late, mainly in Catalonia. Carod Rovira from the ERC (a left wing Catalan party) compared Rajoy’s speech to old propaganda newsreels of the Franco dictatorship. Felip Puig from CiU (a centre-right Catalan party) urged Catalans to turn up for work on the holiday. He also said Rajoy's speech was on a par with a recent Juventudes Socialistas (Young Socialists) video because both are going to lead the country back to the bipolarisation of the “Two Spains”, which damaged the harmony (of the transitional post-Franco era).

The divisions in Spanish society between right and left, monarchists and republicans as well as those between pro-centralist and various nationalist factions seem as deep as ever. This makes the recent campaign, backed by the PP, to add lyrics to Spain’s wordless national anthem look pretty trivial. Maybe they just have a weird sense of humour. Government minister Miguel Ángel Moratinos said he would support the idea “if a wide-ranging consensus could be reached”. Probably not going to happen any time soon then. Perhaps finding a solution to other internal matters such as the Kale borroka (civil disturbances linked to Basque nationalism), which led to flaming battles between nationalists and police in the centre of San Sebastian on Friday are a bit more pressing.

Ghosts of Spain

Comments

On Language Learning

Sat, 06 Oct 2007 19:05:59 +0200

"When I speak I would prefer that what I said be true to some coherent reality." - Earl Stevick in Success with Foreign Languages

In a Catalan oral exam I took part in a role-play situation where a garage owner was speaking to a motorist who had broken down. I didn't feel I played the part of the garage owner very well for several reasons.

Firstly, I do not run my own business and am not used to gathering info by telephone so I even forgot to ask the "motorist" for her name. In addition to that I don't even drive hence I felt alienated from the task no matter which role I was required to play. In theory, motorists and mechanics or their receptionists, provided they also have a decent grasp of the language, should do best in this type of activity.

This brings me to Stevick's point. He does not like "artificial language" which would have us repeating sentences like "My tailor is rich" when we do not even have a tailor. He prefers to say things that have real meaning - basic truths that are relevant to him.

This challenges the type of artifical role-play situation I mentioned above. Is the student likely to end up in such a scenario? But this does not mean we should limit language to that used in the workplace as not all language is vocational. I have heard people say in restaurants that the waiter speaks perfect English when he knows the appropriate functional language required for his job. However, it may be that he would have great difficulty in having a conversation in English about anything other than the food he serves.

Comments

The Stornoway Way

Tue, 25 Sep 2007 14:46:51 +0200

Kevin MacNeil does for the Isle of Lewis what Joyce does for Dublin or Dylan Thomas for South Wales. That might be a big statement to make but I enjoyed this novel at least as much as A Portrait of the Artist or Under Milk Wood. And the fact is The Stornoway Way is much funnier. The protagonist R. Stornoway is also an artist - a piss artist mainly. But MacNeil gives us a wonderful insight into the mentality of Leodhasachs, their way of life, which includes a strong oral storytelling tradition. It is also a fond reminder for me of visits to the island and of a rural Scottish upbringing where the omniscient King Alcohol reigned supreme.

I devoured this novel in a few days and I haven't done that with any book for some time. McNeil's novel feels as if it is about the right length, weighing in at a light and spacious 250 pages. I can't say that about many contemporary novels. I don't know whether that's down to writers thinking they have a lot more to say than they have or the demands of the market. The Stornoway Way is highly recommended reading for language lovers and anyone who wants to read about the modern Gaelic way of life which the Highlands and Islands tourist board and the Kailyard School would prefer to give a wide berth to.

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Findhorn Fragments

Tue, 04 Sep 2007 23:54:31 +0200

September. The river is low as in mid-summer. I am the fool with the coat. I might even get a tan down there. Forecast – No rain today.

On the B-road to Kinloss
Not a single car
B is for butterfly.

If I hadn’t gone left
I wouldn’t have seen
The heron in flight.

I peel a banana
For the road –
Changed days.

Leaves are falling
They roll down the river
Onto the next station.

I cross Findhorn Bay under a wildcat sky. Thin rain falling in the grey nowhere. I have to take off my shoes and socks and paddle over. The sandworms laugh in the skeleton rain.

Thoughts of girlfriends on the pebbled shore.

In the Captain’s Table:

God does not deduct from
Our allotted time-span
The time spent fishing

Small decisions drift on the dunes
Birds break on the waves.

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An Independent Catalonia?

Mon, 27 Aug 2007 20:54:23 +0200

Catalonia will decide in 2014 if it wants independence according to Josep Lluís Carod-Rovira, the vice-president of the Generalitat (Catalan Govt.) and leader of Esquerra Republicana de Catalunya (a leftist Catalan party). Carod-Rovira told the Barcelona newspaper La Vanguardia that an independent Catalonia would be much easier to achieve than a federal Spain. He said: "Catalonia has never been a priority for Spain, while on the other hand Spain has always been a priority for Catalonia. Spain only wants us to pay taxes... and that's it."

Summarised translation from El País, 27 Aug. 2007

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Famous Five

Sat, 11 Aug 2007 02:38:36 +0200

Scots got a wee bit o an airin on Radio 4. The story is cried Just Like the Famous Five scrieved bi Anne Donovan. That's Julian, George, Dick, Anne and Timmy the dug, nae Smith, Johnstone, Turnbull, Reilly an Ormond. That wis a bit o a let doon fir me tae be honest but a suppose ye cannae hae athin. It's nae a bad story hooevir.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio/aod/mainframe.shtml?http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio/aod/radio4_aod.shtml?radio4/afternoon_reading_wed

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Why I Like Golf

Sun, 22 Jul 2007 13:40:07 +0200

You don’t need to have a daft name to play golf but it helps. Even a glance at the leaderboard at this weekend’s British Open throws up some odd names: Boo Weekly sounds like a character from To Kill a Mockingbird. Then there’s Stewart Cink who is still plugging away. Over the years, who could forget Corey “crazy” Pavin who was always in the mix. Or the tasty Duffy Waldorf? Then there was Tom Kite, the only Mr.Kite I've heard of apart from the one in that song which was probably inspired by a dose of Lucy in the Sky? The Beatles references didn’t end there. We also had Craig Stadler – he was the “Walrus”. Fred Funk was another with a musical connection.

I hope the engraver at Carnoustie doesn’t make a mess of it like this one did.

My first clear memories of a golf tournament come from Troon 1982, when Bobby Clampett, the young American with curly blond hair and plus fours, blew a huge lead to let Tom Watson win yet another Open title. I was on summer holidays at my grandparents in Inverness. They had a few clubs in their garden shed and my brother and I cracked a few shots around. It was a council house, so the garden was small but it was a lot grassier than the one we had at home. My grandad, forever keen to encourage our interest in sport, used a trowel to cut a couple of deep holes in the grass and placed small flower pots in them, enabling us to retrieve the ball without getting our hands too dirty.

I've followed golf ever since. The British Open in particular inspires me to look a few clubs out. Golf is often seen as an elitist sport. In many ways it is. In some countries, particularly the US, it appears to be a sport for the wealthy and conservative upper middle-classes and predominately for white people - in spite of the Tiger. I remember one tournament, I think in Scotland, where a few of the players stopped to be introduced to the US president and I thought to myself, why the hell am I watching this reactionary rubbish?

But there are few, if any, countries in the world where it is more accessible than Scotland. Granted there are elitist clubs like the St. Andrews Royal and Ancient or Muirfield, but Scots have plenty of local municipal courses to choose from.

In any case, I find it absorbing viewing. During the Open, I can lose track of time and almost everything else, as if I am engrossed in the creation of a poem.

Comments

Iberia United?

Fri, 20 Jul 2007 00:17:18 +0200

José Saramago once wrote a novel in which the Iberian Peninsula disconnects from the rest of Europe and floats out to sea. Its English title is the Stone Raft. This week the Portuguese Nobel prize winner was in the headlines again with another Iberian concept: he has predicted that one day Portugal will merge with Spain into a new country known, in all probability, as Iberia.

In an interview with the Diário de Noticias, Saramago said that on the whole the Portuguese would accept this if it was explained to them properly: “With ten million inhabitants, Portugal would gain a lot in terms of development and it would not mean the end of the country, it would continue in another way. It would not mean we stop speaking, thinking or feeling Portuguese, (...) and we would not be governed by Spaniards, there would be representatives from the parties of both countries in a single parliament with all of Iberia’s political forces”.

Surprised? I only recently became aware that there is a degree of support there for such a scenario in Portugal. I was listening to an interview with Paul Preston, the English historian and expert on Spain. He pointed out that it is odd that Catalonia appears to be drifting away from Spain at the same time as Portugal wants to grow closer to it.

So what do Spaniards think of the idea? El País carried out a survey to gauge public opinion. Six percent of Spaniards don’t really mind but object to being called Iberians, nineteen percent think the Portuguese find it difficult to be independent and are doing okay as they are, while a whopping 75% though it was a great idea because Spain would have ten million more inhabitants and a better chance of winning the World Cup.

This article also appears in my new blog about life in the north west corner of Spain: http://galidonia.blogspot.com/

Comments

Old Ways

Mon, 02 Jul 2007 16:20:37 +0200

Had an outgoing weekend by my standards. On Friday, I went to see a local band called Quaken play a set of Neil Young covers. A few of my old favourites were performed: Heart of Gold, Like a Hurricane, My My, Hey Hey. I'm not that old. I retrospectively listened to most of Young's back catalogue myself. But what struck me as the set progressed was that here was an audience with many 20-somethings who had grown up with another era of Neil Young stuff that I didn't recognise. I realised, quite disturbingly, that the last Young albums I paid any attention to were at least fifteen years old - Harvest Moon (1992) and its predecessor Ragged Glory (1990). I don't know what of the more recent stuff is worth a listen. The impression I get is that Neil Young is unusual in the sense he appears to get louder and heavier with age. I saw that film Year of the Horse a couple of years ago and while the director Jim Jarmusch is one of my favourites, the music didn't particularly inspire me.

On Saturday, I changed my tune and went to visit a bagpipes factory outside A Coruña. More on that somewhere else at a later date.

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English in Galicia

Fri, 29 Jun 2007 16:41:06 +0200

One of the objectives of the new "Ley Orgánica de Educación" is that Galician children will begin to study English from 6 years of age. La Xunta (the Galician govt.) has decided they should be taught English from 3 years old and almost one thousand Galician schools will begin teaching English to 3 year olds in the new school year (2007-08).

Translated from La Voz de Galicia, 19 June, 2007

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Kirkcaldy, Strathclyde

Thu, 28 Jun 2007 23:49:59 +0200

Last week on my other blog www.ballis.blog.co.uk I reported on how a newspaper here in Galicia had said Luton is known for its airport and a glorious football team. This week La Voz de Galicia came up with another gem.

Gordon Brown was born in Kirkcaldy...on the outskirts of Glasgow. To say that Kirkcaldy was on the outskirts of Edinburgh would be pushing it, but Glasgow? Come on guys, do a bit of research into your foreign news. La Voz de Galicia, as you might well be able to work out without an in-depth knowledge of Spanish, literally means The Voice of Galicia. It's certainly not the voice of reason when it comes to UK matters.

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Wednesday, with the Mondays

Wed, 20 Jun 2007 19:16:10 +0200

Happy Mondays/Deluxe/Siniestro Total – Mendez Nuñez Gardens, A Coruña

Last night I went to see those old scallies the Happy Mondays play a free concert to celebrate the opening of a new superstore in A Coruña. They played some old favourites such as Hallelujah and Step On, a couple of Black Grape numbers I think, and some newer stuff, which I didn’t recognise and won't be looking for in the new music store.

Despite a few sound problems the Mondays weren’t bad. Obviously my expectations were not what they would’ve been 15-20 years ago. The musicians were together enough to put on a reasonable show. Bez was still giving it his best shot with his trademark daft dancing and plenty of e-smiley interaction with the crowd. Sean Ryder, probably not the fittest of blokes these days, looked to be going through the motions and took rests at the back of the stage as often as he could get away with it. Fortunately, the powerful voice of backing singer Julie Gordon carried Ryder along and lifted the Mondays a little above the average.

Also performing were a couple of members of Deluxe. They were performing in their native city but do have a large following in Spain, having had a few successful albums and a recent no.1 single. They are worth a listen if you like mellow, melodic rock. The other band, Siniestro Total, from Vigo, are one of Galicia’s most loved rock bands. They play a kind of anthemic punk. Seemed to go down well with the crowd but it’s not my cup of tea.

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Musical Accents

Wed, 06 Jun 2007 16:25:28 +0200

One notable development in the successful young Scottish rock bands of our time is that some are losing the fear of singing in their own accents. The Fratellis’ singer has a mild but detectable Glaswegian tones, Idlewild sound Scottish if you listen carefully, and a more Dundonian twang can be heard in the songs of The View. It beats those awful mid-Atlantic efforts we’ve had to endure down the years. Twenty years ago the Proclaimers were looked upon as something of a novelty act. Why? Because added to the fact they weren’t the best looking, they sang in the accents they’d always had. The curious thing was that they were asked in nearly interview why they did this while those who pretended to be Americans got off ‘Scot-free’. It’s a terrible crime to try and be yourself in your art.

Getting back to the View. They certainly have something although they are probably not as good as they think they are. But the public has been lapping them up so I don't suppose they will care about a thirty something like me saying they have some polishing up to do. And at my age almost all guitar bands sound like someone else. On their debut album, Hats off to the Buskers, I hear quite a lot of the Libertines, a bit of the White Stripes, Husker Du, Smiths (especially on Don't tell Me) and their compatriots Teenage Fanclub (on Wasted Little DJ's).

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Photo Thief

Sun, 06 May 2007 18:51:01 +0200

Just noticed my blog photo has disappeared. Is there a photo thief out there? I know I'm handsome but this is ridiculous. I would happily have sent a signed photo to anybody who wanted one. Anyway, now that I'm here I might as well explain that one reason for the reduced number of blog entries recently is that I am now signed up to myspace. I don't promote my writing much on here but I am now doing so over there. I write poems, articles and essays, reviews and the odd story so if you are interested in reading any of this go to:

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=175666662

PS. Please leave the photo alone.

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English National Anthem

Sun, 06 May 2007 17:57:03 +0200

I came across this on a website the other day:

“However, the British anthem should not be sung by the English as an English anthem. It may be politically convenient for the UK Government to encourage Scottishness and Welshness whilst keeping Britishness to the fore in England but it serves neither Britain nor the monarchy to do so. Not only that but it is disrespectful to England, Scotland and Wales to conflate England with Britain in this way; for England is a nation every bit as much as Scotland and Wales, and those Scots and Welsh that still consider themselves British are now obliged to boo their own anthem for fear of being regarded as traitors by an increasingly nationalistic tendency.”

I agree with most of this. Using the British national anthem to rally England’s sporting teams shows the most basic lack of understanding of the difference(s) between England/Britain/UK. And, yes, England is just as much a nation as Scotland or Wales. I’m not sure what they mean by the political convenience but I would more or less go along with those comments right up until the last point. Does the author of this really believe that pro-union Scots or Welsh are forced to join in with booing God Save the Queen at sports events? Is there some sort of Big Brother there who monitors those who don’t join in? Maybe these poor Scots were the same ones who were dragged kicking and screaming to the polls the other day to vote for the SNP.

I do think England deserves a new anthem though. GSTQ is a relic of the empire and an irrelevance to English republicans and atheists as well as many Scots or Welsh. Using The Sex Pistols song of the same name would give England more street cred and attract the support of more neutrals around the world but would anthem4england go along with that?

http://www.anthem4england.co.uk/

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A Day in Vienna

Mon, 23 Apr 2007 15:00:45 +0200

“If I had told my old boss that one day I’d be leaning on a gas pump in Vienna he’d of said you must be outta your mind.” - Tom Waits on the height of success.

I seldom attend poetry readings. They don’t really do a great deal for me. I spend a lot more time listening to poetry than reading it. That’s because I prefer musical poets. People like Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Patti Smith and Michael Marra.

But right at the top of that list I’d probably put Tom Waits. He’s an incredibly prolific writer who has been making great albums for well over thirty years. His words are less cryptic than Dylan’s and he still has an inventive, cutting edge to his music, which Dylan, although still writing good songs, has all but lost.

I don’t think anyone introduced me to Mr. Waits. I used to borrow tapes from my local library and was attracted to his album covers with unusual titles such as Swordfishtrombones. The songs and the way they were sung was like nothing I’d ever heard before. In fact, it was so different that, much as I wanted to, I’m not sure I liked it. But it was interesting enough to persevere and I soon heard Rain Dogs. I liked it a bit more and gradually got into it. To this day it always quickly springs to mind when I think of the best albums of the 1980’s.

I soon heard some of the earlier stuff too. Closing Time is mellower, Waits’ voice is softer, he hadn’t yet set fire to his vocal chords with Marlboro. Closing Time could well be in the top 10 of albums I have listened to most in my life. It’s late night bliss and it makes me want to say up right through the wee small hours.

If you have a spare half hour and like Tom Waits or are curious about him you could do a lot worse than watch the programme on the link below. It follows a young Waits on a European tour in the seventies. The sound could be better but it's well worth watching. There’s evidence here of Waits’ poetic and story-telling talents which show he could just as easily entertain for hours without need of musical instruments.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=e2JYSwd5lX4

Tom Waits has also appeared in and provided the music for some fine movies:

http://www.officialtomwaits.com/a_movie.htm

I would recommend many of these. Especially those directed by Jim Jarmusch: Down by Law, Mystery Train, Night on Earth, Smoke and Coffee & Cigarettes. Short Cuts is a great film too.

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