Now, this is something really interesting - I found this book on my very first day on the ship as I checked the libraries - and its absolutely right "up my alley" as it combines history, archaeology, science and religion so these are some serious subjects that I always love to read about. Where science and religion differ about the matter of creation, beginning of life on earth and such - one perspective excluding the other - this book actually explains that nothing is black-and-white and in fact two stories don't have to necessary cancel each other, they actually might told the same story.
So far I was always more prone to stand by scientific explanation of evolution, meteorites bringing bacteria and life forms to our planet and slow circle of catastrophes, explosions of life and apocalypses again and again for millions of years - after all, we have fossils, archaeology, dna and many other ways of explaining the distant past, I simply didn't buy into Biblical version. Here, however we have two authors who are both scientists and religious so its kind of interesting twist, because guys are obviously technically well informed about their fields (one is chemist, the other astronomer) but they still respect the older tradition and claim that Biblical account might simply confirm scientistic version in different words. I am reading it right now with greatest interest (and its a refreshing to finally escape out of "Game of Thrones" universe) and the book covers all the points that always interested me - origin of man, religion, Neanderthals, dna, distant history, it is all here. Compared to George R.R.Martin this is now a pure pleasure and although it is a non-fiction, even science, I am sailing trough it with greatest ease.
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I read it completely last night. It started with a bang, covering all the facts that I was previously familiar with, including mysterious one that scientists have discovered that humanity's female lineage track back to an earlier date than the male lineage - this doesn't mean that Eve was older than Adam but that long ago, some time in a history, some kind of catastrophe had almost erased men's dna and only small group of men have survived, while women's dna date to much older times. This actually reflects Biblical story of the Flood that almost destroyed the humanity. Another interesting point is our own genetic similarity to other living organisms on the planet, which authors point as Creator's use of already existing materials (not from the dust, but from available substances). Where people stand apart from other animals is our similarity to God, in a sense of having particular divine spirit, in other words a consciousness that allow us to have perception about morality, purpose, destiny, hope, questions about life and death, in short our reflection of his image. All is well up to this point, but where the book fails to convince me is the second part where basically all the older forms of humanoids are dismissed as not really connected to humans - I still believe that we evolved one way or the other from previous, much older relatives, while this book claims no, Creator had given us this special gift of brain and consciousness while previous branches of family have nothing to do with us, they were just half-animals. So dear, sweet Neanderthal was just another caveman with no connections to us - well, sorry Mr.Rana and Mr.Ross but this is where I disagree because I believe that there was an evolution, it was gradual, it took millions of years and there was no magic wand giving us the precious spark of intelligence (and why to us and not to chimpanzees?) and we are very probably combination of various genes, in fact we are probably children of both Homo Sapiens and Neanderthal who never completely disappeared but was assimilated into society of this new, stronger and more brutal visitor from the South.
It is very interesting to read - from the point of view of religious scientists - and it seems the whole ranch of this publishing company is focused on similar books, it is called RTB (Reasons to Believe) that tries to balance the connection between these two messages. I am always open to new suggestions and willing to accept different informations, after all, the more one knows the bigger perspective one gets. So from this book I took what I found interesting and left the rest. Still not convinced in a story about one omnipotent Creator and I am standing by the belief that we are result of random stardust life forms that have arrived from out of space and evolved trough millions of years. This also means that similar life forms can be found elsewhere, perhaps in different shapes (in other words, gigantic cockroaches/ants might be ruling life forms on another planets).
How interesting, it seems that critics had slammed Martin's previous novel "A Feast for Crows" (the fourth part of saga "A Song of Ice and Fire") and praised this, fifth part as "return to form" where personally I enjoyed previous novel much more than this one. In previous novel the focus were different characters and certain parts of kingdom, while here we have another perspective and the rest of characters - well, I had said this before and will say it again, I don't care a fig for Daenerys Targaryen and her chapters, it bothered me in TV serial and still bothers me here as it feels like completely another novel, with people far removed from the main story so to have her back again did not really improve my attention.
I am perfectly aware that diving into five books of saga might have been a overtly enthusiastic task and as I read one after the other, this last (so far) part felt more like a chore than as pleasure. In fact, I did read it only in order to finish what I had already started and since George R.R.Martin continued to introduce layers of the story on top of each other, even more characters in each chapter, my attention kind of wandered away and often I would find myself skipping the pages just to get on with the story - I probably skipped far more than I should have because at certain point honestly I couldn't recall who are those people (even worse, why should I remember them) and repeated mentions of historical past that happened centuries before current story always knocked me off to sleep. There are certain variations with TV serial and actually the differences are so big that I don't understand why it was done so, for example Sansa was not wed and abused by sadistic Ramsay Bolton (it was a completely another character) so how will TV producers get out if it interesting guess. The priestess Melisandre suddenly does not appear so frightening anymore, Tyrion spends most of this novel drunk and than meets dwarf lady who might become his love interest in the future, the "King-Beyond-the-Wall" Mance Rayder has actually not been killed as in TV serial but is alive and well in this novel, Jaime Lannister slowly gets disgusted with his sister and gravitates towards Brienne of Tarth and his uncle Kevan Lannister eventually takes over after Queen Cersei gets her well-deserved public humiliation and is probably pushed aside with no future involvement in rule. Again it was over a thousand pages and this time, for the first time I actually felt it, plowing trough it with determination more than joy, now when I am truly done with all five novels I feel heroic and definitely need a good break from not just George R.R.Martin but from the whole fantasy genre for a while - my next book have to be something completely different.
One of the most intriguing, unexpected and artistically satisfying recordings by Italian über-diva who at the age of 60 shows no signs of either stagnation or curiosity - trough decades, Mina had sung everything from San Remo ballads, Italian folk songs, Jazz, Broadway tunes, Bossa Nova, Tango and Disco to some of the best jewels of Italian pop classics but so far she had not attempted a full-on album of religious music. Here, somewhat belatedly but still masterfully, she corrects this omission and presents the most unusual album in her rich discography, the album that leans heavily on classical music and composers from 17. and 18. century.
At first it sounds like "Mina does Gregorian Chant" since the opening "Magnificat" soars in Heavenly heights and she is backed by stately Gregorian choir, it is the most, well, magnificent opening you can possible imagine and brings the singer in different sphere, here she is much more than pop artist. Several different arrangers (under the baton of her producer/son Massimiliano Pani) make sure there are various approaches to this ancient material - some surround her with classical sound, strings and Gregorian choirs, other give her late-night, Jazzy combo and it all works surprisingly tight, thanks to tasteful orchestrations and lady's absolute command of still impressive voice. It is definitely unexpected to hear Mina singing music by such classical heavyweights like Giovanni Battista Pergolesi, Claudio Monteverdi and Charles Gounod, though purists from either pop or classical camp might wince at the idea but in all honesty it works perfectly - there are no compromises, this is dead serious, contemplative and even meditative music and the best of all, I cherish the idea of ever-changing artist who is still capable of growth and surprises.
It is true that often I take all these travels for granted - after all, it is part of my job to wake up each morning in a different place so after a while one doesn't even think abut it. But the good part is that I am truly familiar with most of the tourist destinations everywhere so from time I like to serve as a tour guide to my colleagues. Occasionally I like nothing better than to walk out by myself and write my postcards and diary, but when I realise that my colleagues have no idea about the ports, I take them under my wing.
For example, Piraeus is a lovely place but you would not know it, judging from a dirty port - it takes a careful walk along the sea side and two churches down, until you discover pretty shopping district with fine restaurants and nice harbour that I showed to my colleagues recently and they all loved it. Piraeus is ancient port that used to led to Athens - nowadays these two cities are in fact merged so its easy to reach centre of Athens with a underground metro, again it is a matter of how familiar one is with the city. Since we had two days off, I took my colleagues to show them Athens and Acropolis and it turned out into a beautiful experience. First we walked across picturesque area Plaka right in the centre of Athens, with hundreds of souvenir shops and restaurants, here is where you browse with ancient Acropolis looming from the hill right above. Than its a short walk up the hill and voilà, you are out of Plaka and walking towards one the most exciting and historically important places on a planet. I admired even the classy buildings along the way, there was one balcony with a Greek amphora as decoration, you could see the wall with books inside, it looked like my dream apartment, books, amphorae and Acropolis.
No matter how many times I have visited Parthenon I am always excited, awed and thrilled to be there. I have been soaking in the Greek mythology as a child, after all, back than I knew all the names, heroes and legends, it was a fascinating world that fed my dreams and fantasy. How strange that locals eventually turned to different religion and hid all those wonderful stories under the rug, I thought as I walked towards the hill. As it happens, this time my visit (or my homage) turned out to be special because the sunset was falling on the whole town and the light on Acropolis was truly magical. There were less tourists and it was not unbearably hot as usual, in fact there was a gentle wind breezing around the hill and the view on the huge metropolis bellow was as usual, like a dream. One really needs to stand on the top of the hill to grasp the sheer size of Athens, it has more than 4 millions of inhabitants, which is more than my whole Croatia in total. I left my friends to roam and walked around by myself, happy as usual - the place has a special energy and I am always floating around, giddy with excitement that I am standing here and walking around Acropolis (well, I did move quite far from where I started in life), admired the ancient ruins that glowed in the sunset and must admit it did feel absolutely holy and wonderful to be there, I couldn't imagine better way to spend a day in Athens.
Halfway trough the fourth part of "A Song of Ice and Fire" - apparently lots of hard-core fans criticised this book because George R.R.Martin had decided to split the story into two parts and several important characters are left for nr.five. So in this book we have no chapters about Daenerys Targaryen, Tyrion Lannister, and Jon Snow - however they are present as they are constantly mentioned and people talk about them so its not like they are completely ignored, its just that we don't see their own point of view. Which is fine by me as I always found Daenerys Targaryen chapters a bit plodding - she might be important eventually in a distant future but her story really happens far away on another continent and so far there is nothing really connecting her with main plot.
What I found fascinating here is Martin's writing style - once he made decision to spread story towards even more distant lands (Dorne, Braavos and Iron Islands) he introduces even more characters and descriptions of strange new places and more exotic people are truly inspired, it feels almost like another novel now. At times I think that perhaps the whole idea might be simply too enormous, too complicated to connect the dots but Martin seems to have it all planned and it takes a nonchalant phrase by somebody like cunning Petyr Baelish to convince me that everything goes it should be, that things are not happening randomly but certain shadowy characters actually manipulate everything from behind the scenes. In the aftermath of the war, the whole kingdom is burned and torn apart which we see in the chapters about Brienne of Tarth - at first it seems strange that she gets so much space (feels like she is prominent character in this book) specially considering her story really goes nowhere as she basically search for Sansa Stark unsuccessfully most of the time until we realise she is here to show how the kingdom is all torn apart and destroyed, on her journey Brienne encounters only death, danger and poverty. Even though I have seen TV serial and know what will happen later, I read this book with greatest pleasure every night a chapter or two after work - there are some important differences between novel and TV serial, for one in this book we hear about certain character Lady Stoneheart who is supposedly a very dangerous new leader of Brotherhood Without Banners and she was not even mentioned in TV serial, also we encounter Lord Randyll Tarly (father of fat Samwell, the cowardly and clumsy son he had sent to The Wall) not to mention other characters from distant lands like brothers who compete for crown of Iron Islands (Victarion and Euron Greyjoy), charismatic priest Aeron Damphair and so many new people and perspectives that occasionally I felt dizzy from sheer wealth of author's fantasy. Just great, it is very exciting once you start digging into it.
My roommate saw me reading last night and he commented that he can't possibly read anything, he never reads in his entire life. It puts him to sleep, he says. Than again, he can't imagine finishing the day without getting drunk in a bar. To each his own, I guess.
Just finished second part of George R. R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" fantasy saga and loved it so much that without any pause I decided to continue with a third part, which truth to be told looked a bit frightening because even my copy is paperback it has more than thousand pages so I was aware that this will be a task that would probably take enormous amount of time to finish and I could easily read two books in the time needed for this only one. But guess what, even though I am fully aware of massive volume in my hands, I swallowed the first 100 pages in one sitting! The unexpected Flu slowed me down somewhat but right now I am enjoying it so much that I have no doubt that I will finish this book in no time - and after all, its not about number of books one reads but how much one enjoys them.
Yesterday I was in Dubrovnik (Kings Landing in TV serial) and bought myself a nice wall map of the whole Westeros and the rest of magical kingdoms - still need to put it on my wall, but it is thrilling to see it all clearly. As I expected, story jumps from one place to another, from one character to another and often I wish Martin just sticks to one character and his adventures, but he is the author and we just have to follow. Of course I know perfectly well what will happen, except that novel is far richer in characters and details so it really feels like a completely different experience. And while in TV serial I was basically bored with parts that dealt with Daenerys Targaryen here I have no problem with her at all, its all very well written and I can easily imagine all the places, clothes and faces author suggests. I think Martin had hugely re-invented the whole fantasy genre and it is thanks to him that it created huge success not only for his, but many other fantasy novels that used to be kind of cult favourites so far. Every few years new publishing phenomenon comes along - usually completely unexpected trend - be it Dan Brown conspiracy theories, Tudor dynasty historical romances and now this explosion of fantasy, it is interesting to see how some people are trailblazers and than the whole industry follows with countless similar titles until the market is saturated, until we all become tired of it and than somebody else comes along with something new that will become the next big thing. The sheer Gargantuan volume of this novel promise that I might need a break from Westeros after a while, we will see. In some countries it was actually published in two volumes.
It was a completely casual listening trough old pop festival albums - usually completely unassuming and without expectations activity, where I am mostly familiar with performers - that brought me to acoustic duo Buco i Srđan who turned out to be my new discovery. How they ever slipped trough the cracks and fell under my radar, I have no idea but finally I seem to have catch up with them. They were Croatian version of Simon & Garfunkel and if you mix everything you always knew about people like Hrvoje Hegedušić and Ibrica Jusić but add extra ingredients of two harmonious voices with far more musicality (sorry Hrvoje and Ibrica) and gentle, troubadour sensitivity that in hands of these two guys feels natural and appealing, you get this music duo whose music was quite captivating.
Veče je nas prijatelj (1974)
First LP album by now legendary acoustic duo is still a thing of beauty.
Composer Đelo Jusić stands behind this so naturally it has that particular magic of Dubrovnik renaissance troubadour magic, the album actually opens with bells ringing from a church tower and you can clearly imagine guys sitting on some steps and gently crooning & strumming their guitars. Jusić might have arranged and wrapped everything in a cellophane as a producer but guys both wrote most of the material and it is a enchanting collection of acoustic, late-night romantic ballads, very poetic and I dare to say, timeless. Just listen to "Život je lijep" if you want to hear true local evergreen and now-classic. There is a gentle nod to Edgar Allan Poe and legendary local beauty Cvijeta Zuzorić with occasional upbeat song between haunting ballads, however it is when two guys join their voices and you hear that soft, particular, lovely dialect from Dubrovnik (pronounced in words žar, dar) that true stardust comes along and your heart melts. Absolutely beautiful.
The way these pop festivals go, 1973 was actually not a bad year at all.
Sure, mammoth orchestras were still plodding behind performers and strings were swirling to the skies, but same things were happening everywhere else at the time, from San Remo to Eurovision so I guess it was unavoidable. You can just imagine conductors twirling the batons and backing choruses clapping hands in unison, big and very lacquered hair, however the victory is between the lines in a small steps: old dinosaurs are slowly being replaced with fresh, new artists and the impression is that old festival actually promotes some different, promising names instead repeating same old names again and again. Where in 1950s and 1960s this festival constantly had same list of performers, now we actually have some young voices who would later mark the decade.
Ex-rocker Dalibor Brun leaves Rock music for good and strikes biggest hit of his career with excellent, soulful ballad by husband & wife tandem Hrvoje Hegedušić and Maja Perfiljeva whose songs brought huge hits to many artists at the time. "Otkad si tuđa žena" was kind of "When a man loves a woman" ballad and its still played on the radio. For a moment it seemed that Brun might became interesting artist. Instead of him, the next big thing would became young, fresh-voiced singer from Sarajevo named Zdravko Čolić who was here making his first steps on serious, bigger music scene and although this particular song was not very memorable, he sings like a dream and very soon he will explode like a supernova, his truly great moment is just around the corner so its interesting to hear him in this moment, everything is ready, he just needs the right song. Usually I don't care for Miro Ungar at all and his quasi-intellectual intro here is irritating, but it soon it turns into passable Tom Jones imitation and refrain is surprisingly danceable and even energetic in "She's a lady" kind of song. Judging by this LP, ladies were not particularly inspired this year: even last year winner Josipa Lisac had a forgettable little ditty (but than again, her team was busy creating her now-classic debut album and the first Croatian rock-opera simultaneously, so its a wonder they ad anything for her at all). However, the prettiest surprise was a acoustic duo from Dubrovnik called Buco i Srđan whom I vaguely remembered just by name and always thought it must be something wimpy where in fact they were actually darn excellent. On this festival they had now-classic song "Dobro jutro Margareta" that we all remember today from a cover by completely another singer and it came as surprise to find out this was original and very, very beautiful indeed. I liked the sound of these guys so much that I did some more research about them later.
Since I wake every morning in a different place, no wonder that with years I slowly lost enthusiasm for sightseeing - Europe is still my all-time-favourite place in the world but even here it all comes down to three main things: post office, supermarket and Wi Fi. I have walked up and down trough Lisbon, Gibraltar, Barcelona, Nice, Cannes, Monte Carlo, Genova, Livorno, Rome, Naples, Palermo, Venezia, Dubrovnik, Athens and Istanbul so many times (and this is just the Mediterranean) that nowadays its hard to find something interesting that would thrill me again like the first time when I saw these places a good decade ago. However, there is always something that inspires me and reminds me of a beauty of travelling - this time it was prettiest little forgotten corner of Mediterranean, Malta.
Malta stands roughly halfway between Europe and Africa. It is not just a island but a true archipelago with only three of the largest islands inhabited (18 much smaller islands are still completely empty) and millions ago this was land connecting us with Africa. It also means that this was the place where all sorts of different cultures, languages, races and traditions were mixed, not to mention wars fought for this particular spot. There are two official languages spoken here: English and Maltese, which is some combination of various influences (Italian, French, Arabic and Semitic) and local people are the sweetest, friendliest and happiest people I have ever met in all the years that I travelled around the world. I noticed long time ago that when long-faced and serious people enter my shops they are usually from Northern Europe and if they come in a large, smiling and chatty group, speaking the language I don't recognise, they are usually Maltese.
Being where it is, at this strange geographical point neither here or there, Malta was probably first populated by people coming from Sicily, which can still be seen with naked eye on a clear day from here. We know next to nothing about first, original islanders except that they left impressive temples behind them, lots of underground cemeteries and all sorts of figurines of people sleeping. And they disappeared suddenly. So this temple-building people were the oldest known Maltese people but somehow they ended forgotten by history and would stay forgotten if not for a chance accident some 100 years ago when some builders fell trough a hole in a basement and discovered impressive labyrinth of underground temples, true prehistoric secret world. And a lots of figurines of people sleeping which even today nobody can explain. Sleep? Death? Cult of death? Another interesting curiosity are absolutely mind-boggling wheel tracks in a stone roads that nobody can explain logically. I mean, we are talking about stone age so what kind of transport left marks in stone roads? Everything else that came after was less impressive - Bronze age people came later with their weapons, Romans, Carthaginians, Byzantine Empire, Sicilians, Muslims, Knights of Malta, it was all well documented and true, there are some interesting stories about them but these first mysterious Maltese, I tell you, this was Atlantis.
I have visited capitol of Malta on many occasions before but this time I had a mission: to finally go to the local National Museum of Archaeology and see with my own eyes the famous The Sleeping Lady, the figurine from thousands of years ago. Valetta is one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I have ever seen in my life, magnificent medieval town built by Knights of Malta right after the horrific Siege of Malta in 1565 when Ottoman Empire tried unsuccessfully to invade the island (and locals won the heroic victory over ten times more powerful army) - thanks to historic documents we actually know the exact date when first stone of the future new town was placed, it was on 28 March 1566. It feels and looks completely fantastic, like some fairy tale about knights and dragons, actually it looks like much bigger Dubrovnik, in a way. Valetta is also very crowded with tourists not only because of the beauty of the place but also because it has warm climate and it feels dreamy and heavenly there. Palaces, churches and museums all over the place. I can only imagine what it looks like in the evenings, it must be out of this world. Well, this time I was absolutely determined to see The Sleeping Lady and went to the museum immediately, even though the heat was truly killing me - true African heat - it turned out to be really pretty palace and exposition about prehistoric Malta was actually very interesting, these first people have left quite a few figurines of chubby, sleeping people behind but this one is the only one that survived several thousands of years. And there she was, the mysterious Sleeping Lady of Malta in her own room, under one dramatic light just like Nefertiti (but much, much older) - I almost squeaked with delight for finally finding her and was happy as piglet. She is adorable figurine (not bigger than palm of the hand) of chubby lady sleeping on her side and since she was found in the underground temple that also served as cemetery, I think she probably represented death. But since my impressions were excitement, happiness and joy, I got nothing negative here, the vibes I felt were love, peacefulness and comfort. Being a secret pagan, I have my own vague ideas about reincarnation and possibility of re-visits to the places we knew from before so this all makes perfect sense to me. I had the same feeling in Jerusalem, the whole experience left me thrilled, excited and happy like I had just visited some place from a dream.
Recently I have visited Split and after I finished all the business I had in mind (because my travels are rarely without things to do like obligatory banks, post offices, work materials, keys and such) on my way back to the port I was stopped by a obviously embarrassed young man asking for a small change as he was stranded without enough for a bus fare.
Now, I am first to give small change away, left & right, to anyone who asks.
Not because I am naive or stupid or because I have millions to give away but because I truly believe that compassion is the most important thing in our lives. It is something I feel with deepest conviction at the very core of my whole being and everything else is our own little preoccupation, our private little world focused on ourselves - our friendships, loves, family, colleagues, plans and ambitions - but showing a compassion to a fellow human being (or animal, for that matter) is where a person shows his quality or lack of it. Often I was shocked to encounter homeless people or beggars in the streets of so call metropolises around the world, where thousands of people ignored them and just passed by without a glance, where perhaps a small donation would mean a world to these unfortunate people. And I don't care a fig for cynical voices advising me not to bother "because he is just a lazy, professional beggar" or "you know, he is just pretending, he got more money than you can imagine", I always help whenever I can and often later I laugh at myself because it is this given coin that I miss when its my turn to pay in a shop counter but I don't care. I believe in Karma + it makes me feel good that perhaps I have helped someone. Not just beggars, sometimes I simply gave a small gift of candy to my cabin cleaner or that tired bartender on my ship, without a particular reason except to cheer them up and show them they are not alone in this world, somebody noticed them and understand them. Often friends would ask me why did I give a coin to the beggar woman circling the coffee terrace tables, "because I can see this is a person down on her luck and I see it in her eyes" is my answer. It is oh-so-easy to judge and smirk at people less fortunate, who might have all sorts of problems but I also think there is a very thin line between you sitting there with your coffee and that beggar next to your table - the roles can switch suddenly and they do. As for professional beggars, come on people, this is not Charles Dickens, this is real world, show me one person who would rather walk around in the wind and the rain than having some sort of security and comfortable place to work & live. I remember seeing TV news about homeless man sleeping in cemetery (because this was the only place he could find) and it upset me so much, I was thinking each night about him as I snuggled in the warmth of my bed and it was freezing November outside, until I contacted TV station and found a way to send him some money for the at least temporary rent.
Back to my Split guy. I didn't have any money with me because everything was already spent on post office, documents, extra keys and such but as I answered, something in his eyes - silent expression of bitterness, another disappointment, embarrassment, one more rejection - struck me deeply and suddenly I remembered similar situation many years ago, when I should have reacted but did not and regretted ever since. No doubt the similar guy from years ago was genuine, so was this one - I could feel it - his clothes were no dirty and he seemed truly nice person stranded without a money for the bus, which can happen to anybody. So off I went to the ship, turned my pockets inside out, found nothing, knocked on the next door, borrowed money from a colleague and run outside where my guy was already slowly walking away from the port because no luck here. When I called him back and gave him money (and spoke his language) he was actually so surprised and relieved that he started to cry - it turned out he was bound for Međugorje and this being famous religious centre, he must have thought that his prayers were answered. Perhaps they were. This money did not mean absolutely nothing to me because I work and can earn it but to this person right now it was a huge favour that helped him to get on a bus. And I believe 100% that he was genuine, because I could feel & see it on him. I was young and penniless once, in my student days (though I must admit that I bore it with smile and was always cheerful back than, because I kind of saw myself as bohemian and loved the feeling of going trough life with empty pockets) so I know how it is. I floated back on the ship, happy with myself and feeling good about the whole thing - what a lucky chance that I found him just as he was leaving - the only thing bothering me that there were really a lot of people returning to the ship and absolutely nobody helped him, though just one coin would have been help already - I mean, thousands of these old farts passengers just thought about the heat, their own feet, big asses and cool air condition waiting for them and nobody stopped to help a person asking for a darn coin - which I'm sure they had, otherwise they wouldn't be on a cruise trough Mediterranean. I am also 100% sure they would pass by without helping either me or you if we are drowning, so many people today simply smirk and say something cynical (just check comments bellow the news articles) that as much as I believe in humanity, something tells me people like you and me are actually exceptions rather than a rule. One in a hundred would help, would pull you out of the water, majority would just look and mind their business and hurry home for lunch.
Sometimes I wish some volcanic eruption combined with flood and meteorite just blows the humans away once for all and leave the planet to animals and plants. Even animals have helping instincts. The older I get, the more I prefer animals to people.
Had she been born earlier, Loreena McKennit would probably be a gentle folkie strumming her guitar and singing about tender & fair maidens. Being what it is, she comes on a 1980s music scene (that was full of synthesisers, colourful outfits and big hair) looking back to what is basically a traditional folk music in a new clothes, now called "ambiental" and "new age". Still, no matter how you call it, the fact is that this music stands in a stark contrast to what was on music charts in 1985, the year of Live Aid, Bruce Springsteen, Madonna and Miami Vice.
"Elemental" is a surprisingly simple, lovely traditional folk album based almost exclusively on ancient melodies and poetry (W.B.Yeats, William Blake) and because it is so unpretentious it works like a balm against everyday noise. The idea of the album is really similar to what folk singers did in early 1960s except that in 1985 McKennitt could add little touches of studio wizardry to make it sound more like magical, soothing and atmospheric. Being harpist, accordionist and pianist, she uses these instruments to weave the tapestry of something between Celtic and medieval, while her cool, calm angelic soprano sounds just perfect for this kind of music. There is even an instrumental ("The Lark In The Clear Air") serving like a gentle interlude between poetry and affectionate nod towards artist's family roots is represented in haunting ballads "Carrighfergus" and "Kellswater" where we are treated with wonderful cameo by Cedric Smith.
This, being McKennit's first official studio album is naturally very different from what comes with time - later, her music will get noticed by bigger recording companies and they would help her to metamorphose into full-blown quasi-symphonic, cinematic new age priestess but here everything is still very basic - extremely pretty nevertheless, perhaps because music is so uncluttered with production (it was produced by artist herself and recorded only in a week). Everything you always loved about Loreena McKennit is already here, on her debut, only without massive orchestrations and I don't think it was a matter of budget but artistic decision to keep it spare, with only occasional sound of the rain and distant thunder as decoration to music that is extremely seductive in itself. I have had heard quite a lot of McKennit with years and must admit that this rates amongst my favourite in her catalogue, it really feels like peeking behind the door into some magic, mystical land - once you enter, be warned, you might seriously fall under her spell and stay there. It might be her debut but there is nothing clumsy or unfinished here, it is quite a enchanting, impressive album that would appeal to poetry-loving audiences. Personally, I am surprised how much I enjoy this album and constantly rediscovering new beauty about it.
At the moment I am reading not one, but three books.
It is not just a sign of my scatterbrain and apparently short concentration but really, it all depends where inspiration leads me. There are other two books that I enjoy as well in different ways and seriously planning to finish them, however the moment when I entered the crew library on the ship (which means very first day, because this is what I do first to check what's there) second (and a third!) part of the saga caught my eye and I actually laughed out loud from excitement.
Now, I truly did enjoyed TV serial "Game of Thrones" and watched all of them with greatest pleasure so once I decided to check out the novels, somehow the first one didn't really feel so exciting because I already knew what will happen and reading seemed a little bit pointless. Surprisingly, the second part of the saga actually feels like almost completely new experience because it is so full of details and characters omitted from TV serial that suddenly this is a fresh perspective on the whole story. For example, at the very first chapter we are in gloomy Dragonstone ruled by stern Stannis Baratheon (brother of deceased king Robert) and here we have countless characters not showed in TV serial, like court clown Patchface described in a few sentences as extremely interesting personality, kind of madman saved by Gods from drowning (he apparently survived three days at the sea after a ship sunk and something happened to him that he became almost madman, where previously he was witty and entertaining). Like before, every chapter is told from perspective of a different person which gives interesting feel to the story that is basically a mosaic with thousands of puzzle pieces that reader is supposed to connect. Even though I am familiar with the story itself, reading it in the book is this time actually fascinating because everything is described in a great detail - so naturally I left other two books aside for now and really can't wait each night to finish my work to dive into mythical world of George R.R.Martin, it is really that good. I am bit apprehensive about the sheer volume of these books because it seems time consuming and perhaps I could read several other titles while going trough one of these, but never mind - its not about numbers and quantities anyway. Someone once surprised me by asking "how many books did you read this year?" and although I know the answer because I always write it down, it is not the numbers that matter to me, it is the quality that stays with me - the long list of fluffy entertainment that didn't register always pale compared with perhaps one or two really moving titles that come my way. Also the volume does not always promise greatness - sometimes the big book is simply long book - some of the most satisfying books that left deep impression on me were actually very slim volumes, like "My Ántonia"by Willa Cather that I absolutely adored, beautiful and powerful book that was hidden behind completely simple little volume that could fit in my pocket.
Yesterday I walked trough Palermo and out of habit checked bookshops and music by local artists - there was nothing I couldn't live without and unfortunately Internet had made music so easily available that nowadays I don't even have that old urge to buy and collect as before. I noticed few releases by old school Italian singers like Luigi Tenco and Fabrizio De André and said to myself "maybe I should buy this and send as a surprise gift to Arsen Dedić" - looking from outside, I might be adult, middle-aged man but inside I still have soft spot for my idols and this summer while on vacation I read that old man had a serious health problems, so I though this might perhaps cheer his hospital days. It was just one of the current news, replaced quickly with other news and this irritated me because everything else seemed trivial and superficial compared with the fact that giant of Croatian music is seriously ill in a hospital. It worried me but somehow deep inside I was sure he would recover and probably write tons of new songs. Since I very rarely check Internet while I'm sailing, the sad news about his passing caught me completely by surprise and I fell apart in the middle of some pizzeria in Napoli, cried my eyes out alone at the table - surely the scene was like something out of his songs - it turned out he actually died several days ago and I was completely unaware of it because I was at sea.
Every time I make some mental list of who's who in Croatian music, my own personal list always starts with Arsen and than I add few more important people as a cornerstones, as the big five, the ones who matter, the ones who broke the ice and inspired generations that followed. Now suddenly I realised something that earlier never occurred to me, that all this time in my head Arsen was actually nr.one - not just chronologically but in a sense of importance, he precedes everybody elseand often the rest of important names actually started with songs written by him.
Što me čini sretnom - Josipa Lisac 1969 (composer Arsen Dedić)
Ne plači - Bisera Veletanlić 1971 (composer Arsen Dedić)
Proljeće bez Tebe - Ksenija Erker 1974 (composer Arsen Dedić)
This is just from the top of my head because I love these particular singers and this is how they started - their first hits were songs by Arsen Dedić - but you can find his name on countless hit records by other artists, not to mention his music for movies, TV, theatre, children, festivals, even advertisements ("Ledolina"!) he did it all and he did it with a style. No matter who sings it, you can recognise Arsen's lyrics. I remember once during a car ride that one of his old songs came on the radio and we all agreed that not only it was a beautiful poetry but you can clearly tell its written by him, it has that recognisable something , some poetic twist that after 50 years we all started taking for granted, because we got used that Arsen stands above any competition.
There were tons of awards, some even international - “Jacques Brel” award and "Premio Tenco" that actually officially placed Arsen in the league with nine most influential pop songwriters like Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Neil Young or Bulat Okudžava - but for us who followed him from year to year, it was all about poetry. Oh, poetry. Nobody could ever match Arsen when inspired (mind you, even when obviously crafting lyrics for others, he was ever professional) and no matter who sings it, it always gets me right in the heart. For us, Croatians and everybody born in these parts, he was our own Charles Aznavour, Jacques Brel, Gilbert Becaud, Sergio Endrigo and Gino Paoli - he could be lighthearted and playful, but most of the time his most recognisable trademark was some strange, haunting melancholy. Because he was so successful and prolific as a pop music composer, it took forever for literary circles to seriously accept him as a poet, although there were twenty-something poetry collections published under his name, starting with 1971. "Brod u boci" that sold unbelievable 60 000 items (poetry collection!) and I guess no matter the music or even the hits, the voice (or lack of - just like Dylan, he was notoriously declamatory, talk-singing artist), at the end of the day when dust settles it will be his poetry that people will remember, so yes, Arsen was a great poet. Who also happened to compose music for his lyrics.
Appreciation of his art did not come to me immediately - like countless other kids, I was influenced by my parents who smirked and criticised at music that was not instantly entertaining and trough my childhood I would listen about that boring Arsen, on the other hand nobody complained when that exactly same material was sung by his wife who was still probably the best interpreter of his music (kind of Dylan/Baez where people who couldn't stomach Dylan actually loved his music as sung by Baez). It didn't take me long to discover that most of the things my parents detested actually appealed to me very much - classical music, cauliflower, Brussel sprouts, Ingmar Bergman, Arsen Dedić (perhaps not in that order). First it was his poetry, than slowly trough his huge discography I started to actually seriously enjoy his music and even though detractors often complained about his singing technique and "reciting" it didn't bother me at all, I grew up on me and in fact today I love Arsens originals far more than anybody else singing his music. I sing along with him just fine.
I spoke to the man briefly once during my journalistic days - I was writing article about veteran musicians who often outlive their popularity and live their old days frustrated as nobody invites them to perform anymore, so I did kind of survey what some of singers think about the subject. Of all of them, Arsen impressed me to this day, as he didn't just answer whatever but carefully listened my question and than asked me to call him back in 30 minutes and he will have to think what kind of answer he will give me - and he came up with eloquent, erudite and intelligent opinion that it doesn't matter what kind of profession you are in, stonemason or baker or musician, the years of experience should in theory just make you better so age basically has nothing to do with it. Ah yes, I have also visited his bedroom - by mistake naturally - you see, both Arsen and Gabi were gracious people willing to help young, unknown musicians and after one interview with her (where we hit it off perfectly as she is a real sweetheart) Gabi Novak asked me could I please write something about certain young pianist lady who was soon to have her very first concert in Zagreb, of course I did because when Gabi asks you would do anything for her - after our short conversation and some wine that got in my head, I was escorted to the entrance and somehow by mistake blundered into what turned out the be bedroom - we both giggled, it was a sweet moment. I have actually seen the bed where Arsen slept!
Besides occasional concert, music has long stopped being communal experience for me - I listen to the music alone, I soak everything in, listen carefully, analyse and it is never just a noise in the background, so naturally since Arsen music is mostly based on poetry (although he also has quite large repertoire of instrumentals) he is my perfect choice to listen when I'm alone with myself. This I believe is the main problem with people who never had patience or simply habit to approach music seriously as a medium that speaks to them but take it as non-committal entertainment - if for you music is simply noise in the background, than you probably don't even have predisposition to listen to the lyrics in the first place. So with time I started to unconsciously divide my acquaintances into people who read and love poetry (therefore probably Arsen) and those who don't. For every person who would tell me that he can't stomach Arsen because he is not for the ordinary man on the street I would point that this is not true because absolutely everybody is familiar with at least a line or two from his music, be it children's song that everybody joyously sings in the kindergarten, local melody from some festival that is so ancient that people think its a folk song or some other artist's hit that everybody knows and it was actually written by Arsen. His poetry - usually instantly recognisable because it has that elegant twist that only Arsen comes up with - deals with so many different faces of human life (loneliness, sadness, melancholy, yearning, disappointments, heartbreak, hunger that is literary and metaphorical) that I honestly don't understand how is it possible that person can hear/read his song without being stopped in the track. Naturally, not everything touches me with the same force - some experiences are his own, others more universal where everybody can recognise himself. It is a huge body of work that spreads trough decades so I roughly divide it into three stages - young Arsen in the 1960s when he was still a skinny troubadour singing love songs (curiously it was also his most commercial period, full of hits like "Okus soli", "Moderato Cantabille", "Sve što znaš o meni", "Djevojka za jedan dan" and "Sve bilo je muzika", middle period that covers a list of long-play albums full of mind-boggling poetry set into music and autumn years where each occasional and rare album was a little masterpiece of detailed attention and reflection of the world around him, a shift towards materialism that he found disgusting and annoying (I believe this is why he is perceived as intimidating where in fact I would guess he was simply impatient with primitive, superficial people around him). As a true Artist and a Giant, he must felt frustrated with small minded provincialism that clashed with his worldview of a international poet - after all he was a man who would get greetings & postcards from Jacques Brel who was leaving the hotels day before Arsen would arrive and here he is being tortured with unimaginative journalists asking him for 365th time who was real inspiration behind his love song. Since I had listened - and still do - everything he ever recorded, I have selected that first chapter (now almost forgotten) as my favorite so I am fairly stuck with those early EP recordings from 1960s and love them dearly but every now and than I re-visit the rest of his discography and must say that I will love it as love as I live.
I don't care for people who don't like Arsen or small characters who love good gossip about celebrity they never met but they know everything - I cherish fun stories, I cherish my own impressions and most of all, I am seriously inspired with his poetry and music that I constantly find brilliant and often listen to the lyrics attentively because that particular turn of a phrase perfectly reflect my own opinions. Once deep down bellow in South Africa I was chilling out on a top of the ship long after midnight (after a particularly exhausting working day) and there came some machinist who during conversation quoted some Arsen's lyrics - I loved it - just loved that moment where unknown man comes to me in completely opposite part of the world and knows Arsen enough to actually quote his lyrics, for me that was the beauty of life. And this morning, naturally, a new colleague (a nice guy from Serbia who I am just getting to know) quoted some more Arsen, in fact he quoted exactly the same song I was listening while dressing up.
I am deeply saddened that my beloved Arsen is not amongst us anymore but I am also 100% sure that his huge body of work will outlive all of us and time will come when his poetry will be taught in the schools. Of all Croatian artists that I know, he is probably the only one I always loved without any reservations and always found beauty in each and every of his albums. I can't even list favourite songs because there are simply just so many of them colouring different chapters of my life. He is gone now but I will listen his music forever, just like I always did.
Intrigued with recent documentary about Nina Simone - who was fascinating personality, no matter from which side you look at her - I dived head on into this book and almost half way trough it already. Author Nadine Cohodas is an old friend, I read her books about recording company Chess and biography of Dinah Washington so I kind of had idea how she writes - she is very detailed, perhaps excessively so sometimes but has very interesting opinions and a gift for connecting the dots, in short her books & subjects are often fascinating. You can tell she have done her homework, its just that lists of dates and names occasionally makes the dry reading.
As I am still reading, I will note just a few things here:
Simone was nurtured into classical piano player from an early age. Other siblings have to stay away from piano and no one else was allowed to play because little Simone would get enraged. Sounds familiar? Contrary to her lifelong hatred of white people, Simone can actually thank to white patrons for helping her from the very start: it was white lady, Mrs.Miller who paid for music lessons with Mrs.Mazzanovich and dear "Mazzy" who taught her about right posture, how to enter the stage, present herself and impress the audience. Mazzy must have been impressed with her protégé because once Simone had returned home on a school break and held her own classical recital, teacher couldn't help but show off a little bit and played a few notes on piano, while asking Simone to identify them, with her back turned to the piano.
The book is also interesting because it double-checks Simone's own peculiar and selective memory: you can call it artistic point of view or simply her own narcissistic, self-delusional perspective but most of the time she would twist and turn the facts until they suited her stories and no doubts she would believe in them herself later. After all, who was there to challenge her? One of the facts is: she wanted to became first black female classical pianist and great tragedy of her life was that she was not admitted to music academy, in her opinion "because I was poor and black". Reality check: there were already quite a few black female pianists in United States already well known (Natalie Hinderas, for one). The teacher on that very same music academy claims: "Oh no, it had nothing to do with her colour or her background. She wasn’t accepted because there were others who were better, and that was the whole posture of the Curtis Institute. She wasn’t a genius, but she had talent." And from here you have roots of anger, frustration and hatred that Simone continuously felt towards what she perceived as white racism but what if she never played that darn piano, what destination and turn would her life otherwise have? In that case she would be just another angry, moody and frustrated woman with incredibly bad temper. It was because of her music talent that all of this was accepted, though I must say that reading about her constant outbursts towards audience - right now I am at the point where she left classical music and started performing in night clubs - gets a bit tiresome. You get a feeling she was a self-deluded prima donna who demanded respect and was quite adamant about it, without any charm or persuasion. As much as I liked her music, I believe that in real life I would not have any patience for her.
Who knows why - it could be simply work exhaustion or general coping with life's different turns and disappointments - but this last vacation I did not read much. In fact, I didn't do anything much because the preferred way of spending the time was just sitting in the shade and listening the nature, without forcing myself into any kind of action. I did suffered trough the beginning of book by Timothy Findley that for various reasons simply didn't click with me and lost quite a lot of time trying to get into it, just to eventually gave up on it. So it came as very refreshing surprise that I dived into this book completely spontaneously in the air plane, on my way to Barcelona. In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I have just finished it victoriously and my head buzzing with informations.
"An Edible History of Humanity" is all about human history trough the prism of food. When you think of it, biologically we are motivated with certain vary basic needs and food has always been one of them. We might think about other spiritual gifts and consider ourselves far more refined, full of compassion, generosity, taste and sensibility but its actually the stomach that leads the way, most of the time. Tom Standage whizz trough the thousands of years just to point that these strange, omnivorous beings called humans were always focused on food, food, food and it was way to collect, store, preserve, accumulate and share (or not share) food that shaped out history. First of all, did you know that almost nothing we consider "natural food" is actually natural? Man had played around with almost every single seed and plant under the sun, everything has been re-arranged one way or the another and only certain mushrooms, berries, nuts and perhaps sea food could be considered still "natural" as we found them.
In this very interesting and informative book, Standage walks us trough the history starting with first known facts about humans changing from hunters and food gatherers to farmers. Once the agriculture took over, first civilisations started as well and with them division between ruling classes and those serving them. In hunting days there was no private property and food was shared - with first villages and cities, the one who provided the most food for feasts could eventually collect followers and gain influence that turned into real power. Than the people started to use food as currency and to sacrifice offerings to bloodthirsty Gods - in the Mesopotamian version of Flood story, when Utnapishtim emerges from his ark and burns the very first post-apocalyptic sacrifice, Gods crowd around the smoke like flies because they didn't have any divine offerings for a long time (they sound like vampires to me). With focus shifting toward agriculture, saved collections and surpluses of food (that could be used for business, taxes and lot of other ways that have nothing to do with cooking) created wealthy classes, later exotic spices came in fashion, spreading the news about other parts of the world so we got first international travellers who brought expensive items from Asia and Middle East and starting from here we got discoveries of new civilisations, science, art and voilà occasional new continent. Which than provided plants previously unknown in Old World, like Corn, Tomato and Potatoes - in the meantime they became so ubiquitous that now we can't even imagine how did people ever lived without these, but lived they did and apparently it took quite a lot of clever advertising and convincing that people eventually & unwillingly accepted them as food (specially Potatoes that reminded everybody on Leper's hands, imagine that!). With time food became one of the main facts behind the powers - wars depended on food provisions and once scientists discovered how to store large quantities into canned food, everything changed and armies could move fast without having horse carriages lagging somewhere behind. And finally, the guy who invented chemical fertiliser (Fritz Haber) and won Nobel prize for it, used his knowledge to create first chemical weapons causing around 5 000 deaths in WW1 (his wife committed suicide after that). The story goes on into present time, explaining how artificial seeds, mixed and genetically re-designed were used with great effects in places like India and China that eventually not only stopped importing food but started to explore it. Did you know that on a remote island close to the North Pole, there is a Seed Bank where hidden under many tunnels and doors there are around twobillion seeds preserved for posterity and its called Svalbard Global Seed Vault - its a work in progress and it will be the world's largest seed bank.
