A return to normal business

I participated in my first Council meeting since February. Six months of wasted time and missed opportunity. The stupid people of the universe have such a lot to answer for. The rest of us are required to put up with their stupidity and let it neither depress nor detract us. At times, though, that's easier to say (or write) than do. Still, everyone seemed truly pleased to have me back. That's never bad.

I'm with Goethe who wrote: "There is nothing worse than aggressive stupidity." How could he have known about my start to 2009?

Beloved

Finished it. Truly wonderful writing. It has to be one of the finest novels I've read and genuinely an important one too (and it's not often that that can be said with justification).

What can one say? Read it.

Here's what the much-maligned Wikipedia has to say on the novel.

These are some surprisingly perceptive Sparks Notes on the book.

And this is a link to Toni Morrison discussing her novel on the BBC Radio World Service Book Club.

I love this story from the New York Times:

SULLIVAN’S ISLAND, S.C. — Toni Morrison has said that her acclaimed novel “Beloved,” which features the ghost of a baby killed by her enslaved black mother, came out of the need for a literature to commemorate slaves and their history. “There is no suitable memorial, or plaque, or wreath or wall, or park or skyscraper lobby,” Ms. Morrison said in a 1989 magazine interview. “There’s no 300-foot tower, there’s no small bench by the road.”

This weekend, on Sullivan’s Island, off the South Carolina coast, Ms. Morrison, the Nobel laureate, and some 300 people held a memorial ceremony to dedicate her long-awaited “bench by the road.” (read the rest)

(Photograph by Anne McQuary for The New York Times)
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An early evening stroll

The van is still off the road. That irritating fact has some compensations.

I attended a Board meeting of Accessible Arts NSW at its office on Wharf 4, Hickson Road. Rather than call a taxi to take me home, I decided to push round the bay to Circular Quay then catch a train. The push took about half an hour so that's no bad thing in itself. It was a lovely evening stroll. There was just the faintest hint of a breeze off the water. The bridge imposed itself upon the view across the harbour and it was impossible not to concede that there are many other, much worse ways to bring a Tuesday to a close.

Photograph by Robert Fleischhaker
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It was 40 years ago today ...

I was 12 years old, living 3,000 miles from a defining moment ... the end of the summer of love, the birth of a new consumerism. Everything changed. This is the voice; this is the song that carried a message I was too young to understand. It's still an electrifying moment.

Beloved

I've spent most of the day sitting in the sun with cups of tea, a bag of crsips, cheese & tomato sandwiches and one of Spike's sponge cakes reading (aloud mostly) Part 1 of Toni Morrison's novel. Fiction ... writing of any sort ... just doesn't come any better than this. I am in the presence of greatness; transported out of time, place and body. The past is, indeed, another country but a text this good can take you there.

The scent of a woman

The advertising blurb says:

"Inspired by the artistry of flamenco, Blue Agava & Cacao is an impassioned scent. Notes of blue agava and cardamom are sharpened with sea salt in a lush introduction. Sensual cacao underscores the scent, creating a pulse that provokes the senses."

Believe me ... it's true

Jo Malone

Coraline

It's very sweet, gently amusing and not too terrifying. I was curiously not engaged by the movie, although I admired its style and the technical skill that clearly lay behind the production. I couldn't suspend disbelief so I watched as an exercise in 3D movie making rather than simply enjoying the story. The cat was interesting with a wonderful voice but it was underused. The Scottie dogs were, however, wonderful; the best joke in the piece by a long, long way and most definitely the scene stealers whenever they appeared. Seven out of ten maybe because this version of the story lacked heart. I'll read the book.