Félix Vallotton

During my recent visit to Hamburg I have discovered an interesting painter Félix Vallotton whose painting "Black and white" is shown here. It is quite masterful variation on Claude Monet's "Olympia" which I always loved, except that this one is completely irreverent - not a black servant but a smoking woman looking at white girl with almost a disdain (desire?). Although he was previously unknown to me, Vallotton seems to have been quite a talented and prolific artist and I truly like several of his paintings. This one I saw in Hambsburg's Kunsthalle and it did stop me in tracks literary. It is very sensuous and sexy painting, the contrast between women's skin suggesting almost erotic overtones or this is simply what I sense in it. 

"The Marriage of Figaro" conducted by James Levine (1991)

Just finished reading not one, but two books about Mozart - "Mozart and his operas" by David Cairns was so passionate, elegant and convincing that it had sent me immediately to Mozart's music. Since I forgot that I actually have "The Marriage of Figaro" (by John Eliot Gardiner) I bought this one without thinking twice and I still have not regretted: it has spectacular singing cast (Dawn Upshaw, Kiri Te Kanawa, Anne Sofie Von Otter), explosive Figaro (Ferruccio Furlanetto) and quite impressive Count Almaviva (Thomas Hampson) so this was easy decision to make. In fact, considering all the talents involved this is actually a dream cast. It truly sounds like somebody with unlimited financial possibilities decided to select all the best of the best and mix them into one masterpiece production. Music itself is naturally wonderful, sparkling, witty and sexy - try to get "Non più andrai"  or "Non so più cosa son, cosa faccio" out of your head once you had listened this record, they would follow you the whole day around whistling and humming. I have had heard several different versions of this work but so far, these are some of my all-time favorite singers all in one place so its easy to recommend. 

Books about Mozart

"Mozart and his operas" by David Cairns

This is something I picked up in my favorite bookshop in Amsterdam - it was second hand (which I liked), inexpensive and it turned out very interesting although my copy somehow got wet & slightly damaged with all my traveling and moving around from one ship to another. So here it is, a cute, fabulous little book and all tattered and worn out, like it survived centuries. David Cairns is a respected music critic, professor and scholar, educated and cultured man who obviously live for music (he had also published biography of Berlioz) and this was clearly labour of love. Contrary to what I expected, the book was not only about Mozart's operas but it actually covered his life as well - it is a part chronological biography, part explanation how his famous operas came to be and what were circumstances in which he created them. As we all know by now, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart had spend most of his tragically short life (he died only 35 years old) in search of money, better employment and benefactors but along the way he did travel a lot, enjoyed life to a full and even if he failed to get protection from some wealthy benefactor, he created for himself quite a loyal and loving following in Vienna and Prague. Cairns naturally focuses more on music than on private life and here he explains to a detail all the little ornamentations, from "Idomeneo" to "The Magic Flute' - it is far more exciting and interesting than my description and in fact I read it with greatest pleasure. Naturally it sent me back to Mozart's music immediately and I absolutely agree with Cairns who says that Mozart's music seems to move above the earth as airborne, touching the ground only momentarily.

Constanze Mozart : after the Requiem by Heinz Gärtner

Very interesting book that suggested itself as natural sequel to previous one. When Mozart died, his widow Constanze found herself with unfinished "Requiem" that was already commissioned and paid for, so she had to even return the money or to somehow deliver promised work, which she promptly did with a little outside help. Outpour of love, admiration and grief for sadly departed young composer somehow created this particular work his best-known creation (it was published and printed continuously) but the real truth about its unfinished state was kept from public until much, much later in order not to hurt widow Mozart's financial prospects. Author goes into detail description of the times and atmosphere around Mozart's death, how publishers circled around Constanze and cunning ways she basically outwitted them all, lots of funny characters and even more interestingly we also have chapters about composers sons who both lived sadly unfulfilled lives as constantly overshadowed by the immense genius of their father. Frau Mozart comes as manipulative and business-minded at first (which one would never expect from the way she was described while her husband was alive) but slowly emerges as little warmer person (though very bourgeois and proper to outside), her sons are real tragic characters here because they seems to have been shifted between relatives and never got warmth or parents love to nurture them into life. Absolutely fascinating.

Anita Rée

During my recent visit to Hamburger Kunsthalle I noticed a strange, decidedly unflattering and haunting self-portrait of an artist I never heard before. 

It is a stunning, quite beautiful, clear-eyed and perhaps a bit detached look at herself - I just couldn't take my eyes of this portrait and had returned to it several times because I thought she was so fascinating and interesting in simplicity, there was a lot of going on there and quite a lot of psycho-analysis as well.

I mean, after all those Virgin mothers and baby Jesus to finally encounter something so beautiful, simple and clear like this self-portrait, I was quite stunned. I felt like I know and understand this person. You know, we could talk about difference between how others see us and how we perceive ourselves. This lady obviously saw herself not like a typical, dolled out mannequin of silky hats, painted nails, curly hair and make up but as a spiritual person above all this trappings. I am in love with this painting. But who is the artist and how come I never heard of her before?

Anita Rée was a Hamburg-born painter, very known and appreciated locally but sadly forgotten posthumously - she was Jewish, female painter in a time when these things meant tragedy and as Nazis took power, she was intimidated enough to take her own life. She would probably have been completely erased from the memory had it not been for admirers who preserved her paintings in private collections, this is how we know about her today. Perhaps just a footnote for somebody else, but my God how much I love this painting - colours, face, eyes, composition, I am absolutely in love with her. First, its very rare to see someone being so clear-eyed about herself - there is absolutely no vanity here, almost pure, cold detachment until you look at the painting a little longer and sense the beauty in details (lights on the shoulders, those hands, earrings, those eyes). Second, it might be a bit depressed (ok, melancholic) self-portrait but I don't have doubts that this is how sensitive person always see himself when facing the mirror, after all, we are who we are without audience. When looking in the mirror, we don't act, we are alone with ourselves, we see who we really are. Since I know almost nothing about Anita Rée, I can freely write down my impressions and say what I feel about this strangely haunting painting. She was lonely, unhappy and definitely self-aware, deeply spiritual person, perhaps disgusted with a world around her. She had also rejected universally accepted feminine trappings and depicted herself as almost classical Greek sculpture (or anything from Pompeian art), pure, naked, almost immortal, not belonging to any particular race, time or place. I am not sure that Rée herself was familiar with ancient portraits of Pompeii but this is exactly what they looked like. Stunning. I salute you, Anita Rée, wherever you are.

"Life at the Bottom" by Theodore Dalrymple

If you have ever stopped and wondered where is this world going to, whatever happened to human decency and worried just how far would new fashion impress kids to follow piercing/tattoos/self-mutilations, Theodore Dalrymple is a man for you. Under this witty pseudonym, this English prison doctor and psychiatrist writes essays that cover extraordinary wide range of subjects, mostly current affairs and the state of modern society we live in. The titles of his books (collections of essays published in magazines) explain his point of view: "Our Culture, What's Left of It", "Litter: How Other People's Rubbish Shapes Our Life", "The New Vichy Syndrome. Why European Intellectuals Surrender to Barbarism", "Not With a Bang But a Whimper: The Politics and Culture of Decline". In short, here is an cultured, educated man looking at the world around him, completely unimpressed by fashions or trends but seeing our values eroding into parody and materialism, violence and criminal being the way of life for surprisingly big majority of people he gets in contact on daily basis.

"Life at the Bottom: The Worldview That Makes the Underclass" (2001) is a somber look at certain grey underclass of England. Here we are talking about huge amount of people (mostly, but not exclusively immigrants) who live off social support, demand their rights, never lift a finger to actually find a job and spend their lives in a vicious status quo situation, surrounded with criminal and all sorts of vices. Since Dalrymple meets these people trough his work every single day, he knows perfectly well what is he talking about and can easily recognise behavioural symptoms, scenarios and cliches they are falling into. This is a segment of society very far removed from any kind of security or even proper job - most of the guys are burglars, their "wives" giving births to numerous multi-racial babies and alcoholism, drugs and prostitution are just as common as suicides, beatings and murders. Its absolutely fascinating read but also a depressing one, because author rightly points at so many things that we are all aware of so at the end you wonder where does this all lead to, what kind of world do we live in.

- where previously people from lower classes always tried to copy and emulate style of cultured, moneyed and educated classes (in order to show they had style) today is completely other way around: educated, even comfortable middle-classed people follow fashion trends of low-class criminals, their clothing and speech patterns, because this is cool

- kids who stand out in a crowd for their love of art/literature/education go trough hell of abuse, bullying and all sorts of torture because they don't fit in 

- certain segment of population actually believes in violence, criminal and materialism as main goals in life. Young guy gets into a fight and than gets killed because his friends taunted him for not having newest trainers. 

- most of his prison patients are consistently blaming everybody else (society, government, lawyers, policemen) for their lives and actions, without ever thinking that they are responsible

- majority of young, abused unwed mothers are constantly following same behavioural patterns and basically replacing one wife-beater with another for fear of being left alone (children are basically just a necessary evil and nuisance but important for getting social money support)

- instead of being helpful, welfare mostly creates sub-class of people who can't be bothered to work and most of them feel it is right to steal from those who have (and work for it)

- multi-rational immigrant families often bring their own values with them but often never completely assimilate and create very twisted reality and expectations for their children (arranged marriages, girls beaten up for wanting education and so on). Example is a desperately unhappy (pre-arranged) marriage that parents prefer to a divorce that would embarrass social status of the family.

Everything Dalrymple writes about is true and you can't help but thinking about the state of the world in which good behaviour, proper speech and education  is frowned upon. His observations about Blackpool (once a cosy vacation spot, now place to get drunk and vomit in the public) is hilarious - nowadays it seems is socially accepted that having fun means misbehaving in public, in a way that previous generations would never do. There was a certain way of behaviour that previous generations cherished as polite and its almost completely gone today, not just showing one's ass in the public but even keeping thoughts, secrets and psychosis inside instead of spilling all out for TV viewers around the world. Its all very interesting but ultimately depressing after a while and though I share many points of view with the author, it kind of just frustrates me because we are aware of this overall trend downhill and facts that kids are basically ignoring culture & education, but what to do, where are the suggestions and answers?

"Was kann Schöner Sein: Ihren Großen Erfolge" by Lys Assia

Just as in Italy I purchased local artists, here in Hamburg I decided to look out for something German. After all, international pop or classical music I can get elsewhere but this is the place to check out home-grown music. Luckily for me, Hamburg still has huge shop with movies, music and electronics so I browsed to my heart delight and after some research decided the only thing I really can't live without would be compilation of German recordings by lovely Lys Assia who was very first winner of Eurovision Song Contest back in 1956 - since I grew up with annual TV spectacle, this is something that instantly appealed to me and good thing is that I bought it because her other title disappeared immediately. 

Swiss-born Lys Assia for me represents all the best about Eurovision - when she won, back in 1950s, European schlager music was all about sentimental orchestrated ballads sparkled with magic dust, proper pronunciation, heavenly strings, restrained passion and of course backing choirs oohing to the skies. I didn't know anything else about her except lovely "Refrain" (and on my Eurovision LP compilation it was in French version) so the moment I saw this, CD was in my hands.

It is a double CD compilation of her German singles released 1951-1960 and quite generous, I must admit. Just as I expected, Assia was a lovely, classy lady who chirped sweetly not unlike Doris Day (in fact, she covers "Que Sera, Sera" here) and her repertoire was light pop of the day, something absolutely not cool today but I have stopped worrying about that since I was teenager so this suits me just fine and I love it. Honestly I don't know who else but me and Eurovision fanatics would listen to Lys Assia these days, however I am thrilled with my new purchase. Just imagine elegant, sophisticated and coiffured lady who was also multi-lingual and who was performing romantic 1950s light pop, lots of covers - many of these songs I recognized (Cole Porter's "True Love", "Arivederci Roma", "Ein Schiff wird kommen", "Jolie Jacqueline", "Tammy", "Domino", "Mi casa, su casa", "Melodie d'Amour") while others confused me because either because of German language ("Wenn die Glocken hell erklingen" turned out to be Edith Piaf cover) or because orchestrated schlager versions were so sugary that it took me forever to connect the melody to original (her almost Disney version of "Ein klaines Haus am Ende der Welt" is actually "Blueberry Hill" but I had to think hard about that one. Many of songs here were adopted regularly by lots of other international singers from the same era, "Monsieur Taxi-Chauffer" for example I recognize from Swedish version by Alice Babs. Of course we have German version of Assia's shiny moment - "Refrain" in German - but also her other Eurovision song, "Giorgio" that almost won next year (she came second) and which sound incredibly innocent and childish today, as most of 1950s pop does actually. With few exceptions it is a wonderful compilation that represents best of continental sound of light popular music of those days. 

Miniatur Wunderland, Hamburg

Now, this was really delightful and I can't understand why I have not seen this already before because its truly spectacular + in walking distance from my port. Perhaps I was slightly intimidated by this whole neighborhood (it is called Speicherstadt and it honestly feels completely cold, industrial and kind of Jack the Ripper district) but now I was better informed and even pulled some new colleagues with me.

"Miniatur Wunderland" is a collection of cutest little panoramas from all over the world, where miniature railroads bring passing little trains, cars, ships and there is even airport. There are literary thousands of little people figurines doing all sorts of things in different countries, you can spend hours here and giggle in sheer happiness, it is a true masterpiece exhibition and it is not complete yet, because they are still building more places (Italy is next). We started with admiring fictional little town Knuffingen than moved on to wonderfully detailed Switzerland, Austria, Central Germany, Hamburg, America and finally Scandinavia. People clicking with photo cameras everywhere, children excited, grown-ups excited, I was in Heaven. The girl who came with us was very bored but I guess everybody else who had ever played with car and train toys was thrilled to death, because this is the same but on much bigger scale. I particularly loved all the attention to detail, so many little towns, villages, street celebrations, even rock concert, football stadium, all sorts of things and naturally figurines of little people & animals everywhere. Little trains running all over the place, cars driving, at certain points lights would dim and than it would be night so we could see how it looks in the evening (magical again). I had truly beautiful day. Often I don't even think about all the places that I visit trough my work because I take it for granted, but occasionally I feel truly happy and blessed that I travel so much.

The Hamburger Kunsthalle

In Hamburg, again. 

Its far from having fun in the sun because I was transferred from one "dry dock" to another, which means basically replacing one extreme refurbishment for another - carpenters, electricians and plumbers everywhere, no air condition or hot water, going outside is adventure requiring helmets, climbing the cumbersome stairways and lots of other improvisations. But again I have time enough to walk around town and its interesting that this time I see Hamburg differently - either my interests have changed or simply I have learned to look elsewhere. Where previously I couldn't think about anything further than Hamburg's history museum, now I walked to famous Art collection. As usual, it is in the middle of re-construction and perhaps its even better this way, because I was spared thousand and one religious painting - the selected, most famous masterpieces are displayed in the basement.

This Hamburg collection actually had some really beautiful pieces. The biggest joy I got was from seeing "Wanderer above the Sea of Fog" in real life - it is a legendary, classic and romantic painting from 1818 by German painter Caspar David Friedrich whom I loved for many years. Friedrich was very successful in his time but unfortunately his style fell out of fashion and he died in obscurity, poverty and depression that clearly shows in his art - I always found him extraordinarily moving and melancholic. This particular painting had long been a favorite of mine and it could be explained in many ways - either as a victorious exuberance, brave spirit of adventure, strong-willed decision to face the unknown or perhaps futility of attempting to change one's destiny. I see different things every time I look upon this painting, mostly positive and empowering. In real life the painting is large enough to be totally regal and impressive, for me this is the centerpiece of the whole collection.

Of course there was much more, once I got over my initial excitement about "Wanderer" - I only glanced at religious paintings because frankly I have seen so many of them that I don't have patience anymore but I admired cute little landscapes by Dutch painters, beautiful 17th century portraits, "Cabinet of curiosities" that were collections of wealthy people (predecessors of museums), mythological themes (Dido & Aeneas), Francisco de Goya, naturally several more breath-taking paintings by Friedrich ("The Sea of Ice", "Sea Shore in the Moonlight") and a few discoveries like this pretty piece by German artist Wilhelm von Kobell which for me sings about summer day. I can almost hear the sounds of sunny afternoon when I look at this little painting.

Some artists I recognized immediately - Degas, Renoir, Manet, Cézanne, Munch, Van Gogh - others were new to me, like excellent Max Liebermann whose moving "The Netmenders" I couldn't take my eyes off or Félix Vallotton whose clever "White and black" I assumed was homage to earlier classic paintings. I have also instantly recognized sculptures by Auguste Rodin, whose "Honoré de Balzac" was delightful and there was a very interesting self portrait by lady named Anita Ree that I found fascinating. I had absolutely great day and it was all by myself with time on my hands, without pressure, just slowly browsing and enjoying myself.

Erich von Däniken and Graham Hancock

Recent picture with two unlikely windmill fighters, completely different generations but deep in the heart same passionate dreamers and both of them having their own cult followers. I have always wondered do they know about each other and naturally, they do, in fact they are on friendly terms if not exactly of the same wavelength. 

Erich von Däniken started it all, first, back in the late 1960s, around the time author of these lines came into the world. Cynics would say he only perfected what was being said before, but that goes for everything as I believe that there is nothing new under the sun and everybody was always influenced or inspired by something. It might be that time was simply perfect for what Däniken had to say and his out-of-space alien astronauts theories fell on grateful and appreciative ears of audience who was looking for opinions outside of the box. "Chariots of the Gods" still holds the best-selling record with 62 millions books sold and it had created the whole industry of ancient secret/alien conspiracy books that followed. Däniken himself is 80 now and he is considered grandfather of it all, the creator of the whole genre. Recently I re-read some of his books and enjoyed them for what they were, repetitive and all, even trough bad editions and clumsy translations I could sense his passion.

Graham Hancock is some two decades younger and when you look closely, not so much different from his older colleague. Sure, they arrive from different approach and perhaps disagree in shades and variations, but they are both writers about ancient secrets, civilizations and possible alien influence on our history and development. I still recall excitement from discovering his book "Fingerprints of the Gods" which was basically a continuation of Däniken's path but told far more skillfully. Everything Hancock writes about I enjoy immensely and always looking forward to his next book (I even bought unknowingly, his first fictional novel, believing it to be non-fiction - just to discover that I prefer him as literary Indiana Jones). His book "Supernatural" was one of the best things I ever read and just thinking about it inspires me to re-visit it.

I am very happy to see these two gentlemen together and accordingly to Hancock, older colleague was very pleasant and friendly, even though Hancock himself was a bit critical and harsh - perhaps understanding that youngsters are always more prone to argue, Däniken simply enjoyed meeting someone from the same family of dreamers and embraced him. As much as I love Hancock, I must admit that it is Däniken who left bigger mark and broke the ice first. Everybody else is just a follower.

"The Resurrection of the Romanovs" by Greg King, Penny Wilson (2010)

It all started two decades ago (already?) where I innocently stumbled upon book "The Quest for Anastasia"(John Klier) that set me off like a racing formula car into curios passion towards anything about the subject. Than "Anastasia: The Life of Anna Anderson" (Peter Kurth), "The File on The Tsar: The Fate of Romanovs" (Summers & Mangold), "The Romanovs" (W.Bruce Lincoln), "Alexandra,The Last Tsarina" (Caroly Erickson), "Nicholas and Alexandra" (Robert K.Massie), "The Kitchen boy" (Robert Alexander), "Rasputin" (Edvard Radzinsky) and so on, the list continues with obvious weakness towards anything that has to do with disappearance and murder of Russian royal family. It is a truly fascinating subject that never ceased to intrigue me. It has everything: passion, drama, royal court, aristocracy, mad healers, intrigues, innocent bystanders and calculated manipulators, political turmoils, angry masses, foreign connections, bizarre disappearances than possible re-appearances, brutal murders and completely fake impostors, my God, life really creates stories far crazier than any fiction. I have also been lucky to visit the grave of last Romanovs, while in St.Petersburg and also have a little icon with their group portrait as martyrs. (Come to think of it, I am qualified enough to become impostor myself now)

You would think that DNA results from graves discovered in 1991 would finally be a last word on the whole story - we now know how Romanovs were murdered, exact names of the execution squad, where the bodies were initially hidden and than re-burried, how two bodies were missing and than eventually found, every grisly detail and much more. However, the question of Anna Anderson was never completely explained - after all, if she wasn't Anastasia than who was this woman, this obvious impostor? This book explains it all and it does a very good job at it.

At first it was maddening. It seems to me that book was basically repeating everything we already knew, just far more detailed than previous writers. This couple were fanatics, let me tell you - they knew every single detail of the story, who, where, why and how. And here are the documents to prove it. But for the life of me, I couldn't understand why are they so focused on Anastasia and Anderson while Franziska Schanzkowska got one sentence. I was reading this on a plane, on my electronic e-reader and getting all upset about it until finally it dawned on me: the story is divided in chapters - Anastasia, Anna Anderson and than (voila!) Franziska Schanzkowska. Ah, I got it now - what a stroke of genius! - believe me, my flights, I couldn't care less, I was so deep into last chapter that I could fly into space and wouldn't notice. At the end of the book I was genuinely thrilled and in fact, could re-read this last chapter again for the pure joy of it. 

To those uninformed: Franziska Schanzkowska was the name of a Polish factory worker who disappeared in Berlin just about the same time Fräulein Unbekannt (Miss Unknown) was found in a Berlin's Landwehr Canal. Miss Unknown spent some tome in mental institution when her first claims to have been Anastasia (coinciding with cover story in magazine) brought attention of Russian emigrants and the real story actually started here. Its really way too complicated to explain it in a nutshell here and I urge everybody to read book (or books) about the subject, because it is truly fascinating. What this particular book brings is a fresh look at the character if impostor: because now, DNA tests prove without any doubt that woman who claimed to have been Anastasia never had anything to do with Russian royal family but had very clear genetic connections to Polish family of Franziska Schanzkowska. This has been a newspaper scandal already in 1927 but somehow it seems that public wanted her to be Anastasia so twisting the facts and truth, it became a circus that truly embarrassed surviving Romanovs, since media depicted them as greedy, cold and heartless relatives who shunned poor, surviving victim of a tragedy - where in fact, this impostor was fed informations and details of Russian court life by hundreds of Russian emigrants, was giving very vague answers to most of the questions, did not look anything at all like Anastasia and did not speak Russian! While other books focused on Tsar, his wife, family, Rasputin and everybody else, this time I finally get a sense that Schanzkowska is unmasked for what she was - and along the way, authors explain how she did it, what were her motives, who were her possible helpers and how public reaction (very sentimental at the aftermath of Royal family murder) was inclined to help and believe her claim. Its truly fascinating story and I am very excited that I found this book. 

Blossom Dearie first two albums

Blossom Dearie 1st LP album (1957)

Blossom Dearie is quite irresistible because she was so darn unpretentious - female version of Bobby Troup and I'm not the first to notice similarity. It is a intimate, soft and friendly kind of singing, sound of not a intimidating force like Sarah Vaughan but completely different approach, comforting, sensuous and très chic, très feminine.

It could naturally be explained because she was an expatriate, American girl in Paris where she led vocal group "Blue Stars of France" and recorded two albums there, some of that famous French glamour must have rubbed on her because for the rest of her life she was basically perfecting this wicked kittenish persona, purring and scratching simultaneously. This was her very first American LP (recorded on invitation by no lesser figure than Norman Granz for his "Verve records", how about prestige!) and introduction to wider audience. Not sure how much it did for her on the charts but it definitely put her on the map because album is still in print and it has been for almost 60 years, far more than anything else she did afterwards.

Which is maybe pity because - surprisingly - perhaps her best work actually came later when she formed her own company "Daffodil Records" in mid-1970s and had no commercial pressure anymore. However, "Verve" albums are without exception brilliant and highly enjoyable. This one has everything already in place - girlish voice, intelligence, witty lyrics, that highly individual light piano touch, Jazz trio behind her. And vocal chorus straight from her Paris days that would not continue on further albums. She never had massive public attention like some other Jazz giants from her era but once you give her a chance, specially on a rainy afternoon, chances are you will be hooked for life. 

"Give Him The Oh La-la" (1958)

Oh, I loved this from a very first moment and feel the same to this day.

Norman Granz produced this album - but where he surrounded his main protege and "Verve records" golden goose Ella Fitzgerald with strings and velvety orchestras, he gives little Blossom just a Jazz trio and let her do her own thing without interfering. So she cuddles up to microphone and gently murmurs "Like Someone in Love" while your heart melts and you wonder why on earth you have never met a girl like that in real life. Its basically very similar to her previous, debut album with same intimate atmosphere - it even has another French song, which became her gimmick.

Blossom's little girl voice sound actually completely honest and not something artificial. I can't even imagine what kind of person she must have been in person, but apparently she was well read and witty, because her songs tend to be not usual sentimental stuff but surprisingly sharp and clear eyed. By far my favorite song here is ""I Walk a Little Faster" that is the best description of optimism-trough-tears I have ever heard. "But even though I meet, at each and every corner, with nothing but disaster, I set my chin a little higher, hope a little longer, build a little stronger, castle in the air... I walk a little faster". I mean, this really touches me. 

She is not very well known or easy to find. Blossom is actually a cult figure. You don't read about her in Jazz guide books, because apparently critics smirk at her. There's nothing dramatic or tragic about her life, no nasty biopics or dirty laundry to dish about. So when occasionally you meet another Blossom Dearie fan its celebration and joy, kind of mutual recognition and surprise, I still remember how it made my day years ago.

Tutto Cetra - "Un bacio a mezzanotte" by Quartetto Cetra (1941-1968)

This is a delightful, double disc anthology of famous Italian vocal quartet that worked mostly trough 1940s and 1950s. I knew them solely trough wonderful "I Ricordi Della Sera" but that was only one song, so I approached this CD very carefully, knowing that most of European post-WW2 pop music was very family oriented and sound erm, comical to modern ears. Sure, those were different, innocent times and music reflected it.

Disc one covers years 1941-1956, roughly fifteen years and just as I expected, it is vocal quartet (female lead) paying tribute to their American idols, Bing Crosby and all - there are quite a few covers ("Mr.Paganini") and some surprisingly cute little jazzy hits ("Ba-Ba-Baciami Piccina", "Un Bacio A Mezzanotte", "In Un Palco Della Scala") scattered amongst fairly tame pop of the time. If you can bear trough light family entertainment which was order of the day - but to our ears sound very much like Disney music - there is a lot to discover and enjoy here. As the disc progresses, focus is more on light swing and it actually sounds excellent.

Disc two spreads over 1950s and 1960s - quartet was very successful and covered a lot of different genres but they added light comical touch to everything they did (check hilarious version of "Aprite Le Finestre") and wherever it was "Rock Around The Clock" or "Casetta In Canadà" it seems they clowned a lot. With exception of lovely tribute to Grapelli/Reinhardt ("Gli appassionati dell'Hot Club") this is mostly firmly and squarely old-fashioned family entertainment, often comical, decidedly lighthearted. Somewhere near the end we encounter beautiful "I ricordi della sera" which might be quintessential Quartetto Cetra track, seriously beautiful, dreamy and bluesy ballad that stands head and shoulders above rest of this collection. It kind of leaves you with impression that group started as swinging quartet and somewhere along the way they changed the focus, turning to parodies, clowning and TV shows.

"God Bless the Child" by Billie Holiday (1972)

Double LP compilation of Lady's golden years at "Columbia records" - roughly 1933-42, this is where her legend was cemented - released simultaneously with than new movie "Lady Sings the Blues". It might have been just a marketing ploy but in truth it served to remind listeners who real Lady was and how she sounded, as opposite to cinematic version of her life. Her records never really went out of print, however this time they sounded very clean and introduced completely new generation to her music.

"Columbia records" and John Hammond is where everything started (and ended, if you ask me). During this time girl was just one of the gang, her seductive, lazy vocals fitting perfectly with Jazz cats who played along, Teddy Wilson and Lester Young, it was all one-take, improvisation heaven. What you hear here, generously spread over two LP vinyl records is pure magic - "All of Me", "Georgia On My Mind", "I Cover the Waterfront", "Solitude", its all here. Remember, this was all before "Strange Fruit", drug scandals, prisons and everything that movie biopic focused on, this is why Billie was so important for, this is how she should be remembered. Sure, there is another, darker chapter for those who love darkness and tragedy, but I always go back to these first recordings because they glow and thrill even now.

I believe this was one of my early introductions to Lady. Naturally, a good decade later, from a public library. It beats muddy-sounded compilation I had and I also loved the arty cover that kind just suggested her face, more like a forgotten dream than reality, which fitted nicely with my romantic idea of singer who actually passed away decades ago. How was I to know this would be a lifelong love-affair, that I would go on collecting and listening her recordings for the rest of my life, always finding new favorites, always founding new details? I loved these early "Columbia" records so much that not only I collected all of them eventually (on CD in nine volumes) but never really bought into later period. For those who are curious, I can also recommend slightly earlier singer from previous generation, Mildred Bailey who in her way was predecessor to this floating, dreamy sound.

"Once Upon a Time" TV Series

Faced with unexpected free time during my current "dry dock" in Palermo, now I suddenly have opportunity not just to walk around the town until my feet hurt and discover previously unknown parts of Palermo but also to check my collection of goodies collected during previous vacation - I browsed the titles and decided to give a shot to something produced by same team who created "Lost". I see the similarity in approach - though the story is completely different this time, it also has hundred-and-one character and episodes are tailored so to give many flashbacks to all of them, turning soap bubbles forever.

"Once Upon a Time" is happening in fictional town of Storybrooke where all the citizens have no memories of their lives and time stands still. Nobody ever arrives here, nobody ever leaves and no one finds it strange. Until adventurous and kick-ass Emma Swan arrives and gets stuck here, meddling in plans of evil city mayor Regina Mills - unbelievably as it seems, it turns that all the people here are fairy tale characters who don't remember anything about their previous lives. We encounter Snow White, Prince Charming, Huntsman, seven dwarves, Rumplestiltskin, Jiminy Cricket, Pinocchio, Red Riding Hood and many others who don't remember anything about themselves because of the dark curse laying upon the town - it all start to slowly change with arrival of Emma, who naturally don't believe in any of this. In fact, her little son (given to adoption long ago and living here) is the only one who knows and passionately believes in this - his fairy tale book is called "Once Upon a Time" - I must admit that little boy often appears deranged and the whole plot is stretched really far beyond belief. 

I guess series writers just assumed viewers would take this as a fantasy fiction and leave it at that. While "Lost" was happening in present time and at least had a pretence at something realistic, here we have pure escapism with witches, evil queens and fairy tale characters so reality goes out of the window. Take it or leave it. It took me forever to actually get into this, because I watched it with disbelief and was often tempted to switch it off completely - but it was entertaining in a silly, fluffy way and I did get a kick out of some script ideas (Snow White being quite Amélie-like, clumsy little cutie pie who enjoys a drink with girls and even has one night stand with someone) while plot is of course very professionally tailored with cliffhangers, excellent production and special effects. I am halfway the first season now and glued to the screen completely but I can see where it all leads - to more and more bubbles, more flashbacks of more fairy tales characters that suddenly appear out of nowhere so this can go on forever until the end of my life. I will watch complete first season but I promised to myself not to fall into the trap and not to follow any more seasons, because it just makes me feel silly. One really good thing in here is actress Lana Parrilla who is main antagonist and not only she is really good (strangely human in a basically fairy tale wicked queen role) but she is stunningly beautiful woman to watch and I just love every time she is on the screen. She holds the whole town in her claw and everybody is afraid of her power, which naturally impresses me immensely. 

Celebrating Lady Day: Billie Holiday is 100

The very first time I heard Billie Holiday, I was impressionable teenager and even without knowing anything about her notorious biography "Lady Sings the Blues" or the cinematic version of it, I was immediately smitten with music and that unforgettable, floating, dreamy voice coming out from another era. The album I got was just one of the countless compilations released after her death, this particular LP was published by "Everest Archive Of Folk & Jazz Music" and according to Internet it was 1983 so I must have been around fourteen. There was a cartoonish collage if Lady's famous face, Gardenia and all - very stylized, kind of gives you just idea what she looked like but no real human portrait. For one thing, judging by this cover you wouldn't even tell her skin color. I am aware of all this today but back than it served me very well because it send me away flying in daydreaming, there were countless afternoons spent alone with Lady. The very first song on that LP was her version of "My Man" - elegant piano introduction, than slowly her murmur emerges, very intimately and softly, a few seconds and you are hooked for life. The rest of the collection was hodgepodge - heartbreaking strings on "Lover Man" and "Don't Explain" next to much earlier "I Cover the Waterfront" and bouncy "Them There eyes", Duke's "Do Nothing Till You Hear From Me" and joyful "Swing, Brother Swing" - all of them in really  bad, muffled mono sound (I heard them in far better, clearer versions since) which of course made it even more precious to me (could this be the start of my obsession with old recordings?). It was magic and it is magic still - I have been listened Billie Holiday ever since and with occasional detours to different music genres, I always come back to my greatest loves. In fact, I don't even have to listen her music because it is so deeply etched in my heart.

Billie would have been hundred had she lived. Alas, she died only forty four (Elvis was forty two) and was arrested and fingerprinted on her deathbed in New York's hospital - a final escape from police, jail and life full of humiliations. It is very interesting to note how her name basically tells two different stories: Billie Holiday as a living, breathing person who was a top Jazz star of her times and internationally beloved by her fans, another Billie Holiday who emerges post-1959 as a myth and lives on ever since in recollections, music encyclopedias, movies, novels and tribute albums. Ask any Jazz singer and they will tell you they caught Billie bug sometime in their youth. Why Billie and not somebody else, after all there were literary hundreds of talented people during 1930s, 1940s and 1950s who worked in the same places, with same musicians and even performed same songs: could it be that her dramatic life story appeals far more than, for example, sunny and successful Ella? I think its actually combination of two factors: almost cinematic horror of sad, lonely and troubled life + beautiful, magical music that reflected it. 

What appealed to me back than - tragedy, racism, escape in alcohol and drugs, abusive lovers and so on - I see it little differently now with a cynical 40+ perspective but I understand that it created brilliant artist for whom music and singing was natural, instinctive cry of the heart. Had she lived different life, had she had protection of today's stars (producers, managers, hairdressers, fashion stylists), had she been pampered, she would have been different person - but she did it all herself, it was film noir all the way. I always get worked up when people associate Billie Holiday with that stupid movie, Gardenia and drugs - its all just an impression, there was so much more to her. Basically, you can find several different faces of same woman, if you care to do some research:

Columbia years: young, bouncy and happy Billie Holiday recorded for "Columbia" (1933-1942) and this is my favorite chapter. She was literary glowing in presence of best Jazz musicians and they created one masterpiece after another, often out from silly pop hits of the day. Commodore Records: this is when sassy nightclub singer turns into high art chanteuse, "Strange Fruit" being the moment when image took over the spontaneous joy of jam sessions. 

Decca Records: absolutely beautiful and classic, true film noir recordings from 1942 to 1950s. Here she is a torch singer of heartbreaking ballads. "Lover Man", "Don't Explain", "That Ole Devil Called Love" and such.

Verve Records and beyond: the most notorious chapter, I am not absolutely sure that I love this because it kind of damages my previous perception of Lady. Here she is already damaged beyond repair and slowly sinks in depression and despair. I know some people are fascinated with the sound of alcoholic junkie on these recordings and I always tell myself I will give them proper listening one day but I tend to gravitate towards younger, happier and sensuous self.

As you can feel from these lines, I am against public image of sad, boozy nightclub singer with Gardenia in her hair - it sounds like a good novel and there were many books written about her, but besides one-dimensional cartoon perception there is a beautiful music still lingering on. It is not something shared, hers is music of solitary pleasure when listener is alone with himself. Like some beautiful piece of art, her legend lives on and it will probably live much longer - original spark that started it all has gone decades ago (she has been dead longer than alive at this point) but it continues to touch and affect new listeners constantly. Happy Birthday, Lady, wherever you are.

Palermo

Europe, finally.

I had spent a winter in Caribbean and let me tell you - I know its a dream for many people, but once you see one tropical Island, you saw them all. It is magical escape from cold winter, however there is nothing really there except lots of gaudy tourist attractions, desperately poor natives selling trinkets, sand beaches and palm trees. No matter where you go, how far you go, its all copy & paste of the previous place. And since I sailed four months around Caribbean, I just couldn't wait until finally I step out in European ports where every day there is a new city waiting, new architecture, new food, different language, different people. And centuries of history behind every house.

It just happened that this year my ship is docked in Palermo for refurbishing - its officially called "dry dock" where for insurance reasons ship has to spend some time docked without passengers and all sorts of mechanics, carpenters, electricians and specialists are busy everywhere. Normally this is time for me and my team to do inventory but for the first time ever, lo and behold, we actually have time off to rest and do nothing. I just couldn't believe that I can go outside and have all the time in the world for myself without any obligations or time limits. I have been in Palermo hundreds of times but since I always have only few hours free, I could only explore parts close to the port and my impression was that this is a modern, dirty city full of skyscrapers, apartment blocks and garbage. If you ask me, I found Messina and Catania far more interesting and historical. The further I ever went was a square with a lovely theatre (Politeama theatre) and I always thought this is centre. 

Imagine my surprise where now finally I discovered there is a whole beautiful and exciting city behind the area I knew. In fact, it turned out skyscrapers, apartment blocks and garbage were only parts of port neighborhood and all this time I was just stuck in ugly part of town. Because this time I had all the time in the world, I threw myself into labyrinth of countless ancient streets and completely excited, fearless and curious I dived into completely unknown areas. First I walked trough neighborhood that probably looks the same for centuries, same tiny, dirty, shadowy streets with clothing lines decorating the skyline - this is how it looked centuries ago and how Italian neighborhoods looked in new world. Than I decided to find famous Palazzo Abatellis which I did even though I couldn't remember the name nor I knew direction - to my biggest surprise, my Italian was sufficent and voilá, I actually found the place. I just pointed at famous picture of Virgin on postcards and people pointed at the directions.

Palazzo Abatellis is impressive, fortress-like building dating from 15. century and it holds some of the most famous Renaissance works of art. I was excited as a child with the fact that I was able to found it completely by myself and without a map (and not even remembering the name of the place) so I dived in the world of ancient art - unfortunately it was a bit too religious for me, as expected, because past centuries in Sicily were not particularly focused on secular, it was mostly variations on Biblical motives, lives of saints and countless Golgotha, Pieta, Christ and Virgin Mary, mostly very discolored with age and some in a very bad shape (too dark with age to actually see them properly, some of these paintings really need cleaning immediately). However there is a very, very beautiful and famous "Virgin Annunciate" that I absolutely loved - I knew her from before and wanted to see her in real life, true beauty. She is museum's most famous piece but there is also a statue/bust of noblewoman Eleonora D'Aragona who was absolutely lovely and surprisingly modern, done by famous Renaissance artist Francesco Laurana who was born in what was a distant province Dalmatia, which nowadays is part of Croatia! And an excellent fresco with "Triumph of Death" that was a famous theme of medieval times, with plague and all.

After this museum I roamed ancient streets some more and found breath-taking fountain at Piazza Pretoria (all naked mythological characters, called Fontana Pretoria) and nearby two truly ancient churches dating from 11 century, next to each other - tower "Chiesa della Martorana" and tiny chapel called San Cataldo's Church where I felt completely at home, it looks and feels totally medieval and I took a seat inside, completely convinced that this is not my first time here. I finished my walk on a square looking at famous Teatro Massimo where Enrico Caruso sang (Verdi bust in the front) and I bought some Italian music in local CD shop (among some truly beautiful shirts, Palermo is full of classy shops with men's clothing - more than anywhere else I have ever seen in the world). Returned back to the ship totally sunburn and tired of walking, but excited and satisfied that I have finally discovered much more of this city.

Update:

Visit to a famous Palermo's Royal Palace, also known as "Norman Palace" that towers very impressively over the entrance. It is a monumental building that was built on a place where previously Arabs had their own 9th century palace - trough later centuries various powerhouses added and built more and more until now we have amazing collection of towers, chapels, stairways and floors from different rulers and kings. There is a huge staircase leading to upper floors with royal apartments (empty of furniture but still visible wall and ceiling decorations) and "The Palatine Chapel" that was world-famous even centuries ago.

This beautiful chapel looks & feel very medieval (I would say Byzantine) and it has quite spectacular decorations everywhere from the mosaic floors all the way up to the gilded ceilings, it is also relatively small compared to some later Gothic churches in Northern Europe, so the atmosphere is not of public place but more of a private worship, which probably it was meant to be. Its just amazing how much love, devotion and care was invested in daily religious life centuries ago.

Next stop was something I heard of but wasn't sure that I want to see it, Palermo's famous Catacombe dei Cappuccini. It is a underground place where for several hundreds of years locals would carefully display their dead relatives on the walls around the tunnels. Fully dressed, arms locked and all. I still didn't completely get the point of this, since I am from different background and we burry our dead in graves that we tend, clean and visit but we never open those graves to peek in, it would be considered disrespectful. Well, for some reason here in Palermo it was apparently quite prestigious thing to do and people buried (stored?) here were without exception from upper classes - priests, nuns, aristocrats, children and so - perhaps the idea was to display them and visit them, who knows? On the other hand, you can also visit the grave without actually looking at corpses, after all. In any case, curiosity got better of me and I found the place - which was in quite depressing part of town, by the way, the moment you step out of the New Gate it feels truly desolate and apocalyptic suddenly, even the air feels differently - and walked down into tunnels where I spent some truly unforgettably creepy time walking on the tombstones and surrounded with corpses on both sides - death is not pretty or dignified, everybody sooner or later falls aside with mouth gaping and there were some unforgettable empty eyes staring, children's faces and all. Its not that I am scared of death - its a natural part of life - but it is something we tend to put in the back of our minds and this macabre exhibition of death was sudden reminder that this is how we all are going to end. It was absolutely fascinating but I am not sure how do I feel about displaying these people like a tourist attraction, with ticket admittance - maybe it should be closed for public, but than it would probably fall in disrepair, this way it at least have some visitors who bring the money in. Or should this be closed and simply used as a graveyard? It dates to 16 century so these corpses are very old indeed, I feel they deserve to be left in peace. Right after this, I needed a drink immediately.

"Sergio Endrigo '65-'73" by Sergio Endrigo

Another Italian purchase, this is something I actually wanted for a long time and now decided to stop thinking about it and just go for it.

As title suggest, this is compilation of singles released between 1963 and 1973 which happened to be golden years of Italian singer/songwriter Sergio Endrigo who was one of the brightest talents of his generation. Italy had briefly enjoyed cultural renaissance during 1960s when everything Italian seems to have been huge fashion, including movies, music and cinema - amongst everything else, there were few arty guys who created impressive, poetic body of work wrapped in pop clothes, three minutes little dramas - Endrigo was one of them. Instead of going for usual, commercial sound, Endrigo and his buddies (Gino Paoli, Fabrizio De André, Luigi Tenco) wrote and performed seriously unforgettable little vignettes that actually glow even today, pure and timeless.

As singer Sergio Endrigo was instantly recognizable - he has a soft murmur of a voice, sensitive, soulful and intimate. Where other Italian singers competed in  vocal bravura, he was the shy one, therefore he would steal your heart even faster than someone who was showing off. I think hearing his "La Dolce Estate" and "Io Che Amo Solo a Te" won me over instantly years ago, so this purchase was completely spontaneous.

As singles go, there are lots of goodies here, mostly 1960s chestnuts like "Il treno che viene dal Sud", "Il Dolce Paese" and of course unforgettable San Remo classic "Canzone Per Te". The generous compilation offers lots of wealth to enjoy and explore, there are even some children songs (cute and funny, even though I am usually horrified with children choirs). Its impossible not to love Sergio Endrigo.

Interestingly, Endrigo inadvertently had a huge effect on neighbor Croatia (and therefore Yugoslavia) music scene, not because he was born in Croatia but because his style & music were crucial influence on young Arsen Dedić and his generation. Dedić clearly idolized Endrigo and modeled himself on Italian colleague and friend - he went on to became bard of local Croatian singer/songwriter genre, continuing what Endrigo started first. However, listening Endrigo in his first youth, its clear he was absolute original. As a songwriter he stands behind every single of these little masterpieces and he sings like a dream.

"Il Meglio di Gabriella Ferri" by Gabriella Ferri

Refreshing surprise and something completely left-field from usual pop avalanche in Italian music shops. Gabriella Ferri was completely unique artist and I am not even sure can we describe her as a pop singer, because she was mostly focused on arty re-interpretations of traditional folk songs, theatre and such.

At least this is what this compilation offers - very early beginnings of Ferri when she still performed with her friend Luisa De Santis and girls quickly made name for themselves with unusual, dramatic versions of traditional Roman folk songs. Friend soon dropped out and Ferri continued solo, her powerful, throaty voice far better suited to theatre than to pop songs (nothing pop here in this collection) which probably frustrated her because media is usually focused on pop festivals and starlets, not serious arty singers. What is collected here and is her musical legacy, are acoustic songs that to my ears sounds passionate, unusual and perhaps close to Portuguese Fado - something you might expect in a smokey bar, late in the evening. Ferri had decidedly unpolished, forceful attack of a voice and hers was not a delicate voice - a pirate woman, if I need to describe her. I found this absolutely fascinating music and because its so left-field, it has a huge appeal to me. Its a acoustic folk with a twist.

Highlight: "Le Mantelate"

"The Once and Future King" by T.H.White

It is not often that I make this claim, but this must be one of the best novels ever written. I don't ever recall this book being translated in Croatian when I was growing up and it has been a long time since it was originally published (starting in 1938) so it has been kind of forgotten now, except for cult fanatics who recommend it and swear on it - as it happened, I had this novel simultaneously recommended to me from different sides until I just couldn't ignore it anymore and decided to check what all the fuss was all about.

It is actually four books, published originally in 1938, 1939, 1940 and finally collected under the title "The Once and Future King" in 1958. It chronicles saga about rise and fall of King Arthur and his dream about different world where "right conquers the might". We are all familiar with Arthurian legend and Knights of the Round Table but this writer (Terence Hanbury White) gives the story such a beautiful, unexpected twist that I honestly think no one can ever forget it and once you read his version, everything else simply pales. This guy was a genius. Perhaps a mad genius, but genius nevertheless. He writes with a passionate imagination, than digresses to maddening degree and before you know it, goes on about medieval clothes, weapons, food, fashion and whatever pops in his head - than several pages later suddenly remembers where he started and goes back. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised that wonderful, absent-minded character of wizard Merlyn was based on author himself. Another thing is, T.H.White goes decidedly against accepted versions and creates his own Arhurian saga, where characters are original and definitely his own (Sir Lancelot, for example is not a beautiful knight but actually ugly man) - try to forget them, once you have read this.

The most famous of four parts is of course, "The Sword in the Stone" (1938) and deservedly so. It is a spiritual ancestor of Harry Potter with a poor, unloved boy being cared for by kind and eccentric magician (again, wonderful Merlyn with his shy owl) and it was later made even more world famous in Disney version. What Disney could never repeat was T.H.White's way with the story and how everything works out so magically - just like with "Hobbit", I was instantly hypnotized on a first page and just couldn't let go, until the end when my eyes teared up because the novel ended, I seriously got a lump in my throat and was very emotional at this point (although everything ended on a happy note). Honestly, I loved this first part so much that I think that I continued with other three parts because of this one.

"The Queen of Air and Darkness" (1939) suddenly takes a far more serious turn. From now on is all about grown-up Arthur and what dilemmas, doubts and philosophies crossed his mind as he decided to change the world and to create Camelot, with his brave knights who would live by strict rules of honesty and truth. It is a natural sequel but at the same time feels like a completely different novel, because suddenly here we are faced with far more serious approach and some unexpectedly adult food for thoughts. 

Just like in Arthurian legends, King Arthur slowly fades in the background and instead of being the main character, he now now gives spotlight to Sir Lancelot who is the main character in "The Ill-Made Knight"(1940) that is all about dangers rising from the Northern clan of Orkney aristocrats (kind of Scottish mafia, who constantly revenge each other and are determined to destroy peaceful Camelot. One of the ways to do so is to break Camelot in two by publicly shaming secret lovers (Lancelot and Guinevere) and demanding them to be punished. White very cleverly uses characters to address much bigger issues, story is so gripping and dark now that you can't believe this is the same book.

"The Candle in the Wind" (1958) is a culmination (or final destruction) of everything King Arthur and Camelot stands for. Since we all know the story, T.H.White re-tells it from different and unexpected perspectives, kind of second-hand witnesses or letters written about certain happenings. There is nothing lighthearted or funny here, this is all very serious and often philosophical. White might have been writing about King Arthur but he is actually writing about state of the world, human never ending attempts to rise above barbarity, serious issues. Revenge, peace, loyalty, kindness, truth and such. There is a very beautiful and unforgettable scene where elderly King Arthur know he and all the knights will be killed next day in a battle and he gently orders a young page boy to escape and remember Camelot so the idea of truth and honesty would not be forgotten. The whole book is so perfect that it just makes me weep.

I can hardly remember when was the last time a book moved me so much. 

T.H.White writing style is maddening because he goes off in unexpected directions so often that I wanted to scream "not again!" but you kind of get used to it because he creates such a unforgettable, lovable characters like King Pellinore (and his beast). I absolutely love this book and can't believe that it took me 46 years to discover it. I guess it could be read from many different perspectives - it is so multi-layered that you will notice different things at various stages of your life.

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“The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn.”