Eucalyptus by Murray Bail

                                                        

I just finished my book club book to be discussed in June. It is Eucalyptus by Murray Bail. Looks that my independent nature protests against reading books chosen by somebody else and I feel that I am wasting my time reading things that do not really interest me. During the time I was reluctantly reading Eucalyptus I was thinking that I really want to read Macbeth by Jo Nesbo. Yesterday, I finished my “homework” book. So, I am happy that I can now continue my Shakespearean education. I am curious if the second one will absorb me than much as Shylock. I refreshed the Macbeth story and I wonder what will be done with it by the crime stories writer. It started quite well, but not at all Shakespearean.

Back to the Murray Bail and Eucalyptus. Do I like it? Not really, not my type of a story, but I must say that poetic way of the author got me eventually and I was transported into a mood that I could describe as feeling mesmerized. Or maybe it was just stupor caused by reading one silly story followed by the next meaningless story and calling it a Scheherazade style writing. Big, big stretch in my opinion. Another, rather tedious feature of the book is the writing about eucalyptus and its many, many species. They are called by their Latin and common names and often described in some details. I liked some of it but as it was repeated too many times through the book. I started to skip the botanical details just to land up reading another inconsequential story which was supposed to be a love story. At the same time the book made me think about and feel the Australian landscapes, so different to the European ones. Once again, I have realized that I am half Australian and half European (I intend to write about Polish-European issue in one of my next posts) and that I love these severe Australian landscapes that almost always feature Eucalyptus species.

                                  

So, have I liked the book? I am confused here. The story is too farfetched, but the book is not about the story that much but the atmosphere, impressions, moods and feelings. It is a poetic book and I responded to the poetry of Australia and confusion of a budding feeling of love.

So, 7 out of 10.

Shylock Is My Name

                                                       

My new Shakespearean fascination without having read anything of Shakespeare himself is a bit dubious but is works for me. Talking to my Polish learned friend who knows most of the originals I expressed my opinions in such a confident way that he called me the Shakespearean expert of the southern hemisphere. I think he was sarcastic not only about my knowledge of the subject but also that of my Australian compatriots. While the first would be a deserved sarcasm, the second is completely uncalled for. The discussion between us was about was Shakespeare an anti-Semite as The Merchant of Venice shows. I am told that it is horrifically ani-Semitic. In fact, going through YouTube I found a part of the film with Al Pacino and Jeremy Irons where Jeremy Irons spits at the Jew just because he is a Jew. Then I read about the original play and the anti-Semitic approach is quite obvious and powerful. At the time when the play was written there were no Jews in England but there was already the anti-Semitic atmosphere. There were strong opinions what is bad about the Jewish people, there were strong offensive descriptions, invectives really. One of them I find rather friendly, though this is because I am a dog lover and to call someone a dog to me is rather a compliment.

The dispute between me and my friend was about if Shakespeare was an anti-Semite or not? Listening to a talk with Howard Jacobson I agree with his view that the man who wrote his other plays with such a deep understanding of the human nature and difference between good and evil could not be against one nation just because this one is different in some ways to the rest of western communities. My idea is that maybe the play was written to warn the contemporary England of bad thoughts raising their head. I wonder who is right here and I do intend to watch the film in full when I find it somewhere. It is a film from 2004.

                                                  

What else about the book? As I mentioned in my earlier post the vocabulary was a big stretch for me. I was forever checking the meaning and pronunciation. A little disturbing and, in fact, little educational as fascinated by the book, I was quickly returning to the novel without paying much attention to the learning process.

I liked the humour a lot. Finding out the new word describing me as a Philo-Semite this is not so strange that I like this self-mocking sometimes subtle, sometimes explicitly crude humour. In fact, I sometimes cringe at the sex related Jewish jokes, but not always, I must admit. They are just funny to me even if I consider myself a lady in my manners.

The book is like a commentary to The Merchant of Venice. It does not follow the main intrigue, maybe to some extent but loosely. There is Shylock and another Jew Strulovitch. One Shakespearean object is divided into two men, who in my mind are really one who leads a constant dialog with and within himself on what it means to be Jewish. My sympathy and admiration of this alienated nation increased significantly under influence of the book. I realise that this is not going to be a popular book as the anti-Jewish atmosphere increased through the world significantly. But maybe just for this reason should be widely read in the current times I consider threatening for our human decency.

Another attraction of the book to me is that it askes timeless existential questions and often gives answers. Is the author feeling superior to his readers? Not in my opinion, there are so many twists in the way he writes, hmm…

One example:

I ask you to show mercy to – you ask why you should require what you have not received- and I say to you: Be an exemplary o mercy;

                                                      

And a little later on :

Love those that do not love you – for where is the virtue merely in returning love?

Another big hmm… for me.

I do not have all that many readers of my blog and now I may be putting off some more, but this is my way to clear my thoughts and write what is important and true to me. So, sorry to those who do not agree with me. Maybe some discussion could start? She writes in hope…

To me a great book, 10 out of 10. I wonder if Jacobson is a Jew or a Goy? Not so clear in various write-ups and if he is making a point of just being a human without a label, I am with him.

P.S. My fascination with the Shakespearean project has been increasing each day. It was some weeks ago that I bought a new Polish translation of the Shakespeare plays intending to keep the books in Poland till, hopefully, my next visit. However, I think that I will ask for the comedies to be sent to me now as Shylock became an obsession. 

                                                            
Very nice edition but 1392 pages!! Tragedies and Chronicles form the second volume. This is a life work to read it all, not to mention a little of reflection. I think I'll stick to my original idea of reading only the current versions of the plays. 

Shakespearean Project

I decided that my knowing Shakespeare is deficient and that it is time to correct it. It is a very tall order, but thankfully there is a solution I believe I might be up to. The Hogarth Shakespeare Project commissioned modern versions of many of the Shakespearean plays and I thought that I will read the new versions. My long-standing reverence for Virginia Woolf made my intentions to read books published by Hogarth Press symbolic and attractive. By the way, The Hogarth Press was established by Virginia and Leonard Woolf.

The first step was to get the right books, published by the right people. This has not worked 100% as some of the books were not available and had to be replaced by soft cover substitutes of Penguin. I am happy in spite of the small imperfections of my original plan and as my books arrived the other day I proudly spread them on the table to get into the mood and anticipation of future reading pleasures.

I started with the re-telling of The Merchant of Venice – Shylock Is My Name by Howard Jacobson. And what an unexpected pleasure and challenge! Anticipating light reading as the original is a comedy I found the book a heavy duty intellectual writing with Antisemitism as the major theme. I, boastfully believed that my English is rather good and here I find myself going for help to Google or my long not used dictionary to look up words. Not that I normally do not need or want to do it, but this time the frequency of the lookup is rather significant. There is hardly a page that I do not need to look up at least one word. Hm… A humbling experience. Good for me as well. However, this is not going to be a widely read book. Too intellectual, convoluted and deep. I am glad that I found out about the re-telling initiative and I have to thank my Polish literary guru for that. Raf, the mentioned friend, has already six books that have been translated into Polish. We will compare the notes soon.

I have not read enough to write about my impressions of the book already, but this will soon come. For now, I think that I would like to read another book of the author. When will I find the time?

All the Light We Cannot See

My reading lately experienced some holts. I was changing the books searching for the one to fit my mood and interests. I have been reading Iris Origo’s autobiographical Images and Shadows. Interesting book but rather difficult to immerse in and forget the passing time. Actually I, as a budding Stoic, do not subscribe to killing time and this is not what it is all about. I am going through the time when I have to subject to things I would not choose for myself if I had a choice. Nevertheless, I decided to go through a rather difficult period and now I want to make the best out of it. Part of it is reading good books that I find either uplifting, amusing or enriching. And I have to consider that my attention span is not perfect right now. There are books on my side table though that I intend to read soon. And today I finished All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. The book ticked off several boxes. It is easy to read, the story is really good even if in the category of a fairy tale. It got even a Pulitzer Prize and I would be very interested in arguments for the book achieving such an award. The Wikipedia states also that it is a historical book. I wonder? Nowadays books called “historical” fulfil criteria that I am not familiar with. If JB reads the post and has views on the subject could I, please, ask for an opinion with some focus on historical fiction books. I must admit that I was a bit surprised seeing some correctly spelt Polish names of places the 2^nd World War passed through. Surprised and impressed, but seeing the same names listed again further in the book I devalued the importance of the mention. It was just a mention.

I find of great value the descriptions and stories about the upbringing of German youth before and in the early stages of the war. Maybe even historical value? Observing today's nationalistic atmosphere in the world, I can see similarities and dangers of the populistic governments through the world. Polish one including. This is of course the closest to my heart and I worry about some events. So, the book could have a value as a warning. This is a big tick for the book.

Good story, a really good story, that keeps attention once you get into it. It took me long, about 100 pages to decide that I like to read it. It consumed my attention and interest and I read with great interest until the last 40-50 pages that disappointed me. I believe that many of the readers could dispute that with me, but personally, I wanted more, whatever it might be. Another book? But I would not read a sequel anyhow. While the story is very interesting I do not find it at all believable. Does it have to be? Maybe not. I would have liked it though.

I seem to be rather critical of the book and I am looking for positives as I got the book as a present from a person I value a lot. The book was supposed to lift my spirits and even if it did not fulfil this objective I am glad I have read it. I would have liked a bit more humour in the book but it was rather difficult, perhaps, as the book is about a blind girl, set in the war and describing its cruelty rather convincingly.

                                                          

The motive I liked best in the book was the motive of courage. A blind girl is a courageous person. She is even active in the French resistance movement in spite of her profound limitations. She says that she just leads her days as she has to. Whatever the need to do she just does and being scared does not stop her. This is a very universal message and an example to follow. I am trying to do just that.

Thank you, my friend, Rachel, for the book. 7 out of 10, and I am a fussy reader.

Good taste and bad taste

This is so subjective, but many consider themselves superior as far as taste is concerned. Am I a person like that? I think I am. Only that I think that majority of us consider ourselves to represent and appreciate the good taste, this is our subjective judgment. After all the beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I know all of that and yet when I pass a new “art” shop in my suburb I feel offended by the “art” generously displayed in the panoramic windows. There is a lot to be seen. Half-naked pretty girls of various races, dotted paintings pretending to an aboriginal art. Scoters, boats, and cars for those who happen to have them as their personal interest. All in bright colours that are difficult to pass by and not notice. I must confess that passing the display I look masochistically and somewhat greedily at the pictures feeding my disgust and checking who may be buying the “art”.   

As I have already said, I consider myself to have a good taste in art and maybe not only art, so each time I pass the shop and I have to do it every day, I disapprove of what I see. I may even awake the feeling of superiority in myself and this made me stop and think about the subject. This is a cheap way to gain a positive feeling about myself.

Live and let live I believe and yet I am disturbed by the display and think that this is almost unlawful to allow such a shop in a respectable suburb. How the council could allow that?? When I write these words, I sense that I am very wrong and intolerant writing the words. I can stop expressing what I feel, but I will feel that anyhow. I think I got myself into a tangle and wonder what I wanted to achieve choosing the shop with bad paintings as a subject for my post. It could be that I am still searching for a worthwhile subject to write about and this came to mind or that I simply needed to let the steam off. And as I have done it already I will stop now.
                                                         

                                                                          

My technical abilities are average but my impatience to solve problems is above average so I have not managed yet to copy the photos of the paintings from my iPhone to the PC. I will win one of those days when my patience improves. It is important to illustrate my point.
                                                                        
P.S. Looks that I have to apologize for writing such negative comments. The gallery is does not display things which I would hang in my place, but the people who paint them are considered as artists and have mentions on internet and one of them is currently being auctioned at Lawsons at a sizable price. If this a real bid and sensible prize or not, difficult to say, but he is together in the catalog with David Boyd,  Elliot Grunner and Will Ashon. None of them is or has been a top artist but they are known and have decent reputation. Above is one of the paintings by David Bromley, a very prolific artist. I consider it cheap, but this is may judgement only and I will be more careful in my critiques of art. After all, I only love art and going to galleries and museums, but do not have qualification to judge art beyond what appeals to me or not. 

Mainly about Florence

I cannot find a subject to write about even if I was given a couple of ideas. It was suggested to me that I either write about a book or my bridge experience. I like to write about books I have read as it helps me to understand them better and I generally discover more in the book when I reflect on them. When I like the book, writing about it gives me additional pleasure. The problem is that I almost stopped reading books in the last few weeks. I cannot find a book that would interest me to the extent that I should finish it. So, I have quite a few books on the go and I may finish them one day, but this has not happened yet.

There is not that much to write about bridge either as I am just playing the game but without any excesses. Just steady as she goes. I promise myself to learn my bridge lessons and improve my game. This does not seem to work well as two of my partners are not that much interested in new conventions and bridge is a partnership game, so I lose interest in learning new things if I cannot apply the new knowledge. This may change soon as I will have two new partners and then I will see if they will motivate me to learn more and step up my game.

The last post and exchange of comments with the anonymous commentator – kvd – created more traffic through my blog than I had seen in the past. Thank you kvd. My ego was stroked, but I realise that this was not really my achievement.  Thank you kvd.

Thinking what I could squeeze out of myself in terms of ideas for writing I decided that I will write about the book that I have been reading for some months now – Florence, a Delicate Case by David Leavitt. The book is one of the series The Writer in the City. I already have another one from the series waiting for my time and interest. This is by Edmund White about flaneuring in Paris. The series is about writers’ impressions of cities that in some way caught their attention. I just found out that there is one book about Sydney, maybe this is worthwhile reading? The thing that detracts from the interest in the books is that I actually had not heard of the authors of the books before and I do not know their style. I simply selected the books by the city that I am interested in myself. The books are also cheap and nicely published.

Florence is one serious fascination of mine and when I think: I have a dream… what comes to mind is one month in Florence in a nice biggish place where my friends could come and stay with me for awhile and then when they have enough of the town and me another lot of friends would come to visit and so on... We would go together or not necessarily together to one of the numerous churches, monasteries, palaces, galleries and museums. Then coffees, lunches, gelatos, long chatty diners in Santo Spirito or somewhere else… Paradise! Long strolls, reading in parks or other nice places with a view. Yes, I should have a room with the view over Arno as well. I would eventually go to San Marco and see Fra Angelico murals that I missed during my last visit in this magical city. I would than go to see Fiesole, the place near Florence where well to do people had their villas with the view over Florence. Fra Angelico actually comes from there; his name was Giovanni da Fiesole before he linked his life and art with San Marco in Florence.

Not too difficult to guess why I am reading the book. It is more difficult to explain why it has taken me such a long time to get to the middle of the rather small book. Maybe because it is not all that interesting for me or that I decided that this is my travel by bus and coffee place book so I read it in small chunks and not that often? Both are good and true reasons why it has taken me such a long time.

The book is really about dubious reputation of the town which goes many years back when sodomy was very harshly judged in Europe and particularly Great Britain so many famous people who could not live openly according to their sexual interests went to live in Florence where they and their sexuality were welcome and their whims could be easily satisfied by numerous establishments hiring pretty young boys.

There is not that much about art in the book, but I am still puzzled by one statement that states that Florence houses one-fifth of the world art treasures. Is this possible? It does not seem so and I do not know how to check the credibility of this statement, but I do not doubt that Florence is the place that offers art in excess.

                                         

I found out from the book about floods in Florence, especially the one in 1966. The descriptions of the extent of the floods and the heroic rescuing of the town’s treasures by its citizens, international volunteers and scientific institutions all over the world were difficult to imagine. We all are in debt to the people who worked on saving the treasures of Florence. 

                                             

                           

The value of having a routine in my life

When I look at the definition of routine, it seems rather uninspiring:

a sequence of actions regularly followed.

"I settled down into a routine of work and sleep"

synonims:

procedure, practice, pattern, drill, regime, regimen, groove;

Recently, however, I realised that a life without a routine leads to confusion, inactivity and generally losing direction. Now, the routine needs to be such that it actually inspires you to live better, to live a vibrant life… In fact, it needs to be the opposite to what it seems to be at a glance. It all depends on what my routine is, what are the steps I follow regularly, what thoughts I think every day.

This morning I went to my Daily Stoic book and the thought of the day brought for reflection the message of guarding your thoughts. I always knew, or at least, I have known for a long time that the colour of my daily thoughts dyes my life. It can make me look at life in a happy way or a negative, gloomy way of a scared person. It is so obvious what type of thought one should decide to think. This is not so easy sometimes and I get lazy and go on a negative automatic pilot.  I must say that the last year has been difficult for me in many ways and I fell into some routines that made my life not as good as I would have liked it. My problems, objectively, did not go away, but I made a decision to live each day the best I can. My stoic friends have a nice metaphor of seeing each day as a bead that we string on our thread of life. Each bead is a finished and separate unit and we have a choice to make this bead a lovely colour, shape and shine a bright light. At the beginning of each day, we can decide how we want the day to be. Starting with reflection helps to make better decisions during the day. Routine can be very helpful in this respect, providing that it is a supportive routine. This is what I am working on now. Designing my routine. Writing my blog or my diary is the way to systemise my thoughts and find answers in my subconscious and in my conscious mind. It would be really great if I got some ideas from the readers of the post, but this is perhaps too much to expect. My posts, even if read by some who I consider my virtual friends, are not that popular to get flooded by responses to my existential questions. If it happens I will be happy and grateful.