FISH-AND-CHIPS

“May the holes in your net be no larger than the fish in it.” - Irish Blessing

I have just returned from Adelaide where I was for work and flying home on the plane, the arid, sere landscape of our landscape here in Victoria was obvious in its most extreme and awesome extent. Tomorrow we are expecting a temperature of 43˚C and then another hot day on Sunday before cooler weather arrives next week. We may have had a long winter last year and a cool summer to begin with in December, but we are certainly feeling the heat now. Adelaide usually has weather hotter than Melbourne but the landscape seemed slightly less dry than here, mainly because of the bore water many people access and the irrigation from the Murray and Torrens Rivers.

During my stay in Adelaide I had an excellent meal in a little café, which comprised of an old Australian (and British) standard, “Fish-and-Chips”. The good part about it was that the fish was very fresh and was King George whiting (this is a rather expensive fish that is usually served in the better restaurants) rather than the “Flake”, “Cod”, “Butterfish”, etc (served in most fish-and-chipperies). Here is some information about this delectable fish, taken from the Fish Victoria site.

The scientific name for this fish is Sillaginodes punctata and it can be fished in most temperate waters around Australia, with good catches in Victoria, South Australia, Tasmania, Western Australia and New South Wales. One can have a hard time finding this fish in the markets as it is snapped up by the restauranteurs, on account of it being the largest and best tasting of the whiting family, easily filetted and easily cooked. And of course, this means that usually when one wants to eat it, one has to go out and have it rather than cooking it for oneself at home.

For a sea-girt nation like Britain (and Australia, of course), the popularity of “Fish-and-chips” is hardly surprising. Fish tends to be a staple food of these sea-girt and sea-going nations. The popularity of the potato ever since it came from the New World is also hardly surprising, given its nutritiousness and ease of cultivation. The happy combination of chipped potatoes and battered fish all fried in fat is perhaps the thing that the British should be thanked for, but this is disputed and the Germans, Scandinavians and the Irish claim the dish as their own also.

The eating of “Fish-and-chips” is widespread in Australia, especially so on Fridays, a relic of the fasting days when people used to take any notice of them. The meal was traditionally wrapped in newspaper at the shop, but nowadays, white butcher’s paper is substituted. Vinegar and plenty of salt are served with the meal, although nowadays the gourmet influence dictates an accompaniment of Tartare sauce and lemon. The animal fat that the fish and chips were fried in has now been substituted by vegetable oil, much to the disgust of the purists, but the cholesterol spectre has been to blame for this and most people are chastened by its mention…

Enjoy your weekend!

MEMEMISSION

“A man wrapped up in himself makes a very small bundle.” - Benjamin Franklin

Jan Elle, through Jacqui has completed a meme that relates to seven weird facts about oneself. The rules are that:
1) You link to the blog of the person where you saw this meme last; 2) You write your list of seven weird facts about yourself; 3) You tag seven other people on your list to do this meme and link to their blogs; 4) Let each person that you have tagged know by leaving a comment on their blog…
So here goes:

Fact 1: Although I am of Greek origin I absolutely detest and loathe black olives and feta cheese. I have never eaten them and if they are present in food, I avoid the food like the plague. Apparently this occurred even in my infancy, and weirder still, my paternal grandfather had the same aversion to these two foodstuffs. Even weirder is the fact that I love all other kinds of cheese and I will eat green olives! Go figure…
Fact 2: I adore variety. In all things. For example when I am asked “how do you take your coffee?”, I answer that firstly, I will not always have coffee, sometimes I like tea; and even when I do have coffee, sometimes I like a heavily sweetened cappuccino, other times the strongest double espresso without any sugar. Did I say that I may also order a Greek coffee or a Viennese coffee, or a macchiato or an affogato?

Fact 3: I only need about 5 hours sleep a night. Sleeping in for me at the weekend generally means I sleep for 5 and half hours… I think that when I die I’ll sleep for a very long time, so why waste time sleeping when I am alive?

Fact 4: I am a very patient man, usually very forgiving, tactful, tolerant and willing to give people the benefit of the doubt. I tend to forgive easily, turn a blind eye and generally take things lightly. However, if I find that I am taken advantage of or if people try to diddle me, I can blow up like a volcano. “Beware the ire of a patient man”, they say and it’s certainly true in my case.

Fact 5: I am a technology junkie! I love new gadgets, electronic wizardry, new inventions, wonderful new devices and innovative bits of seemingly magical technology.

Fact 6: I love old things, especially old maps, old books, old paintings, drawings, letters, notes, photographs. I could spend a lot of time in antique shops looking for these things, or simply looking at them. It’s heaven when I chance upon an exhibition of old illuminated manuscripts – I love them!

Fact 7: I am generally quite punctual and deliver on time, however, I have a great many projects going all at the same time, so very often I leave things till the last minute. Oddly the quality doesn’t suffer. It has caused some consternation with other people in my teams, though…

I’ll follow Jan Elle’s example and will not nominate specific people to complete this meme, but rather leave it to you, the readers to do this meme, should you choose to do so…

Also, seeing it’s Word Thursday, here is what meme means and where it’s derived from:

meme |mēm| noun Biology
An element of a culture or system of behaviour that may be considered to be passed from one individual to another by non-genetic means, especially by imitation.
DERIVATIVES
memetic |mēˈmetik; mə-| adjective
ORIGIN 1970s: from Greek mimēma ‘that which is imitated,’ on the pattern of gene.

DIVORCE

“It is not marriage that fails; it is people that fail. All that marriage does is to show people up.” - Harry Emerson Fosdick

I spoke to a friend I hadn’t heard from for quite a few months, today. Life had caused us to drift apart from the time we were at University, but I had been in touch with him on and off throughout the years, had been to his wedding, had met his family, his lovely two children. The marriage had definitely been a love match and the pair was one that gave the impression of a marriage made in heaven. He said to me that he was getting a divorce. I was rather surprised as I thought they were a couple that would age together, still in love in their gray years…

I asked him what had brought them to splitting apart. Had there been affairs? Another man another woman? Did they experience difficulties of any kind? He though a while and in his silence over the telephone I could hear the cogs of his brain turning, engaging, slipping into gears, finally causing him to whisper quietly, somewhat at a loss:
“Well, you know, nothing happened… Nothing happened, anymore. It kind of fizzled out, it died a slow death, not with a bang but with a whimper…”

How many of us develop a relationship and tie a knot around it firmly, securely, seemingly to last forever. And yet in how many cases that knot is severed, or carefully cut… In how many cases one of the partners deftly slips out of it, stealthily, with an imperceptible facility … And in how many cases the knot simply frays, the silken rope fades, ages, turns to dust and crumbles, as it did in this case! The words uttered quietly by my friend inspired me to write this poem:

As Time Passes

As time passes, I remember how:
We used to share a single bed
And laugh as we squeezed so close together
That our breaths would synchronise;
And our hearts would beat in syntony,
As each heartbeat would fall into the other.

As time passes, I remember how:
Our hands would clasp each other
And through the sense of touch our souls
Would mingle through the skin;
And our chemistries would share reactions
In the test tubes of our sweaty palms.

As time passes, I remember how:
We would share a simple meal
And the food was made delicious
As we poured happiness on it –
Better than the richest sauce,
Our joy, a condiment better than the rarest spice.

As time passes, I remember how:
Our lips would thirst for kisses ceaselessly
And our mingling breaths would communicate
Our innermost desires, our thoughts, our hopes…
Our eyes, though closed, would clearly
See into the depths of each other’s soul.

Now, we share the broad expanse of a large bed
And touching is rarely anything but accidental.

Now, our hands may hold each other every once in a while,
But our dry palms are arid places for the excursions of our souls.

Now, every meal a rich repast: Caviar, champagne…
But we may as well be eating cardboard.

Now, our lips are locked closed, imprisoning our souls,
And our eyes wide open, barely acknowledge each other’s presence
When circumstances would have us pretend to kiss…

RETREAT

“To speak and to speak well are two things. A fool may talk, but a wise man speaks.” - Ben Jonson

The last couple of days I have been taking part in an Academic Retreat. This is a type of mini-conference where academic staff of our institution come together from our campuses all over Australia and discuss important topics. We have presenters who lead the discussion, various hands-on activities, group workshops and also some social activities that facilitate team-building and help the staff to get to know one another. These sorts of activities can be a great waste of time or alternatively one of the best ways to identify current issues, develop strategic plans, achieve results and effect changes in an organisation.

I am glad to say that our retreat was an example of the latter. It was on the general theme of “Assessment in Higher Education” with special emphasis on some specific topics. I was very pleased with the way that things panned out, the great majority of our presenters were very effective and their talks were inspiring, generated a lot of discussion, and were very much outcomes focused.

One of the most satisfying things that I saw happening during the two days of the retreat was the degree of open communication that was occurring between colleagues who are normally separated by great geographical distances. As always of course, meeting someone face to face is much more conducive to that special communication which just isn’t there when one is emailing, talking on the phone or even when video-conferencing. Even people who had some axes to grind or were not getting along on the best of terms were on their best behaviour and made an effort to collaborate and exchange a friendly word.

Last night we all had dinner together and a drink, with much convivial conversation, which surprisingly elaborated on the discussions of the day session, rather than on pleasantries and witty repartee. These dinner exchanges inspired my session this morning where I was able to address some of the issues raised by the attendees at the dinner, much to their satisfaction. One always can be at an advantageous position if one takes the time to stop talking and actively listen to what others are saying.

We were able to conclude this day’s session by considering various issues raised, discussing them and constituting three working parties which would look at the three most important topics and over the next few weeks meet in order to resolve the problems that we identified as being fundamental with our processes. It was quite a satisfying two days and all staff that took part found their time well spent. I ended up rather hoarse and a bit of a sore throat as I had done much talking and it has been quite a bit of time since I was lecturing for a few hours on end…

What are your experiences of work conferences and retreats? Good bad or indifferent?

KIAROSTAMI

“To thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.” - William Shakespeare

Abbas Kiarostami is an Iranian director who shot to world-wide prominence in the 90s after his films reached the West through the arthouse circuit, culminating with the award of the Palme D’ Or in the Cannes Film Festival in 1997 with his film “Taste of Cherry”. I had not seen any of this director’s film and this last weekend we watched two. “Taste of Cherry” and his 2002 film, “Ten”. Kiarostami has received rave reviews and movie critics adore his movie-making which they see as succeeding Godard’s and Bergman’s. We were looking forward to watching his movies and I was rather glad to have got hold of a triple pack, “Taste of Cherry” (1997), “The Wind will Carry Us” (1999) and “Ten” (2002).

It was not a good experience… Firstly, let me say that Mr Kiarostami has a car fetish. Secondly, he likes improvised scripts and dialogues, thirdly, he loves long shots where nothing happens and the viewer’s mind begins to wander to more interesting things that have nothing to do with whatever doesn’t happen on the screen. The other thing that the audience is meant to applaud is his “honesty” and his consideration of the “profundity of everyday existence”, the “allegory of his sparse plots” and the “innovative direction”. Alas, then, I am philistine… Both of the films we watched were boring, self-indulgent and annoyingly trite, which were inflated to epic proportions through cheap devices.

Firstly, “Ten” as we watched this first. A young divorced woman, taxi-driver, has ten encounters in her taxi. The curious thing is that none of them seem to be paying passengers. The camera is static and the angles boring (this is meant to be arty) and the conversations mildly vexing to highly annoying. The characters are highly unlikeable and the window that the film opens into their lives, one wishes it had remained shut. The son of the taxi driver is a spoiled brat, the woman herself is phlegmatically selfish and her passengers are insipid or commonplace. The film is meant to be a snapshot of the life of common women in Tehran, but it comes across as tedious and uninvolving. There is no courage nor wit, no humour nor true depth of feeling (even in the scenes where tearful women confess broken hearts and broken relationships). The director is clinical and far removed from his subjects and the film displays as much pathos as a rotting potato on a compost heap.

Nevertheless, this was a somewhat palatable film and one that one could give the benefit of the doubt to. All directors have flops, so surely the masterpiece “Taste of Cherry” had to vindicate the director’s excellent credentials and surely it would worthy of the Palme D’ Or it won at Cannes, right? WRONG! There is a Greek proverb that says: “When you go to the place where reputedly there are lots of cherries, take with you a small basket”… Nowhere was this more apt than in this boring film “Taste of Cherry” where a trite pseudophilosophy is milked for all it’s worth.

Let me put it this way, if you like Paulo Coehlo, you’ll probably like this film. It’s the same appeal to the universal triteness that is phony and manufactured to pander to the new age sensibilities of a reactionary counter-culture and pseudo-intellectual crowd who couldn’t be bothered to read real philosophy but rather wanted predigested, processed junk soul food for their mind. These are the brash and audacious amongst us who have the audacity to clothe the Emmpero in imaginary rich vestments. We all geegaw, oooh and aaah, admiring the non-existent rich clothes until the innocent child walks by and speaks the honest truth: “The Emperor has no clothes on…”.

The film is about the meaning of life (I think). A suicidal man drives around trying to get someone to bury him after he commits suicide. Incessant driving around a dusty and deserted hilly terrain is interspersed with tiresome dialogue where he seemingly tries to proposition other men by offering them money to “do a little something” for him. The director thinks he has achieved a major coup when he reveals to us the man is looking of someone to bury him when he is dead. First the man tries to get a quarry worker to help him, but the man threatens to hit him (these are the working classes, and the refusal is meant to represent that work is not that which keeps alive). Next he meets a young soldier who also refuses the promise of money on completion of the interment (this meant to signify the strength of the armed forces and how they don’t hold the answer of existence). Next comes a seminarian (who represents religion and this too fails to answer the key question). Finally a man who works in a natural history museum agrees to help the man, but all the while tries to discourage him by telling him that the taste of cherry is worth remaining alive for. This is nature and nature alone holds the key to our existence and has the power to preserve our life.

Really tedious stuff, said before, filmed before, written about before and so much better than this. We felt so cheated by this film, especially by the ending (if you think what I described is bad, just wait till you see the ending!). A waste of a precious 90 minutes of our lives. See this film at your peril. If you are an arthouse snob, it will make your day. If you are an ordinary person, an educated layperson, a thinking person, a well-read person, you will probably see through this artifice and join me in crying out: “It’s not silken ribbons, but rather strands of seaweed” Mr Kiarostami is trying to peddle to us.

I’ll rest my case with an interview with the director himself:
http://brightlightsfilm.com/55/kiarostamitv.htm

ART SUNDAY - TURNER

“Moonlight is sculpture.” - Nathaniel Hawthorne

Art Sunday today is devoted to an early, unrepresentative work of a great British artist, William Turner (1775–1851). This is his “Fishermen at Sea” of 1796 (Oil on canvas. Tate Gallery, London, UK). Turner is better known for his later works with their rich and ethereal swathes of colour and brilliant light. This painting is quite the opposite – a night scene illuminated by the full moon, which is reflected by a stormy sea in which a couple of fishing boats are battling the waves.

Turner captures the romantic spirit admirably, and the “sturm und drang” which is implicit in the term “romanticism” is exemplified by this work. It is a not great painting by any means, and it could be mistaken for any one painted by his talented contemporaries who specialised in such gothic visions. However, I like it and it is not infrequently that the trite and commonplace touches us in ways that high art may fail to do so.

Turner was only fourteen years old when he was admitted to the Royal Academy Schools. He started his career by painting watercolours and producing mezzotints under the strong influence of John Robert Cozen's work. Then, in 1796, he launched into oil painting, working in the neoclassical manner of Richard Wilson and Nicolas with results that found wide acclaim. He exhibited his first picture Fishermen at Sea (1796) in the Royal Academy exhibition in 1796. He was elected an Associate in 1799 and in 1802 a full member of the Royal Academy. Turner was one of the most prolific painters of his time. He traveled extensively in England, Scotland and Ireland, and also on the Continent (France, Belgium, Holland, Germany, Italy).

What do you make of this painting? I’m curious to know.

BACH FOR SATURDAY

“He who hears music, feels his solitude peopled at once.” - Robert Browning

It has been a rather difficult week. Now, as the first month of the year draws to a close, what better to smooth one’s frayed edges, calm the spirit and sweeten the temperament than the divine music of Johann Sebastian Bach. Here is his Siciliano from the Flute Sonata No 2 in E flat. Melancholy yet restful, sweet yet having a tangy aftertaste, calming but also tinged with a disquietude that fascinates…

Have a great weekend!

HEATWAVE FOOD

“Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it.” - Russell Baker


Today, the thermometer showed 43.1˚C at 4:30 pm. Melbourne again endured a top temperature above 43 degrees on the third consecutive day, marking this occurrence as the first time since records began in 1855. Our public transport system did not cope well with the heat and despite the bribe of “free travel” on public transport today, the cancellations, reroutings, delays and trains not stopping at their designated stations (yes, I was a victim of this, last mentioned event) made us commuters a cranky lot.

Half a dozen homes were destroyed by bushfires at Boolarra North, east of Melbourne and firefighters were hampered by lack of water and a scorching wind. The Country Fire Authority and volunteer firefighters are doing a heroic job but the infernal conditions are beyond imagination. I feel rather petty now, when I think about this, and have become upset over the trifle of my train being late and missing my station. When I think of people losing their home and everything in it, I am thankful that I have a home to come to, even if I was delayed and heat-distressed.

Speaking of heat distress, both fire engines and ambulances were goin back and forth outside my window in the City today, almost no stop. Apparently, as the radio reported, ambulance staff in Victoria had to attend to 60 in a 16-hour period after suffering the effects of heat exposure. This no doubt flows on from the blackouts that we suffer from as a result of the extreme weather. Power was cut to 42,000 Melbourne homes on Friday alone. We had a power cut of about half an hour yesterday in our house. There are fears of further power cuts as a bushfire in Endeavour Hills threatens high-voltage lines that supply two-thirds of Melbourne's power.

It is not surprising of course that our water consumption soared as the temperatures rose. Melbourne Water showed water consumption at an average of 207 litres per day per person. This of course is well above the government’s target of 155 litres per person per day.

Dinner tonight was salad! Nothing else could be stomached. Long cooling drinks of water, and freshly cut salad kept us hydrated and nourished. The treat was some vanilla ice cream a few hours later as we watched TV. Fortunately, the air conditioner kept the temperature inside to a tolerable 28˚C while outside the mercury hovered in the high 30s well into the evening…

HOT DAY SALAD Ingredients

2 carrots very finely grated
1 beetroot very finely grated
3 tomatoes, peeled and chopped into segments
3 Lebanese (small, gherkin type) cucumbers, sliced
1 witlof (http://www.jetfresh.com.au/witlof.html) sliced finely
1 handful of baby spinach leaves, chopped
1 green capsicum, finely chopped
3 spring onions, shopped
2 sprigs of dill, chopped
2 sprigs of parsley, chopped
Salt, pepper to taste
1 teaspoonful dry mustard powder
Vinaigrette dressing

Method
Mix all ingredients together except for the condiments and dressing. Dissolve the salt, pepper and mustard powder in the vinegar and then make the vinaigrette. Pour the dressing over the salad, mix well and serve with fresh, crusty bread.

RUNNING AMOK

“What broke in a man when he could bring himself to kill another?” - Alan Paton

Horrific news from all over the world continues to filter through and contributes to the rest of the terrible stories that we have become used to. The tragic story of a family being wiped out by a homicide and suicide a couple of days put a human face to the vicissitudes of the economic woes. Ervin Lupoe in LA was deep in debt when he killed his wife, five children, and himself. Lupoe was at least a month behind on his mortgage, owed thousands of dollars on credit cards, and owed the IRS at least $15,000. The couple were fired recently from their medical technology jobs at the Kaiser Permanente hospital in West LA. They allegedly lied about their income to try to qualify for cheaper childcare.

The couple pulled their kids out of school last week and planned to move in with a relative in Kansas. Detectives found the Lupoe’s SUV packed with children’s clothing and snow chains. It’s not clear why that trip didn’t happen, and instead the Lupoe family chose to solve their problems in such a deplorable way. It is a terrible indictment on a society and a system that spends billions to “help” banks our of their financial woes and fails people like the Lupoes.

As I was coming home on the crowded train in this evening’s 44˚C heat, I read in the evening paper about an appalling crime committed today in Melbourne. A little girl, four-year-old Darcey Iris Freeman was thrown 58 metres down from the West Gate bridge in front of her two young brothers this morning just after 9:00 am. She managed to survive the fall into the Yarra River, but died of terrible injuries in the Royal Children’s Hospital several hours later. The culprit was her father, 35-year-old Arthur Freeman. The man was arrested outside the law courts in the City, apparently suicidal and leading his young sons by the hand. He has been arrested and will appear before the magistrate in May. The man is thought to have been involved in a protracted custody dispute with his wife. He was suffering from acute psychiatric distress and had to be treated.

What causes a family man, a father to go over the edge like this and murder his own child? What events could have pushed him to commit such a heinous act? I am trying desperately to understand and find ways to be compassionate, but I am afraid that it’s beyond me. Whatever dispute I had with my wife, whatever dire circumstances besieged me, whatever personal tragedies, disappointments and disasters, would I ever be driven to that terrible act? I cannot fathom any circumstances that would force me to say I would. The man was psychiatrically unstable, maybe that explains it… But still, one’s one child?

There’s a name in criminology circles for the apparent murder-suicide that claimed the lives of seven members of the Lupoe family in Wilmington in LA. Men like Lupoe in this case commit “despondent familicide”. We all know that “homicide” means killing another human being; “suicide” killing oneself; “fratricide” killing one’s sibling; “filicide” killing one’s children, “uxoricide, killing one’s wife, but now we are adding this new word to our vocabulary of despair: “Familicide”…

In the USA, a 2-year-old was burned to death by her father in Arizona after he tired of her requests to see her mother. A mother suffering from post-partum depression in Texas drowns her five children in the bathtub, while not long afterward, another mother in Connecticut beats and stabs her 15-month-old to death. And then, Randy Palm hangs his 5-year-old son Skylar, and then himself in the basement of his Hopewell home. In most of these cases, warped altruism is the most common cause, revenge the least common, as studies by experts cite.

The suicidal mother or father who thinks that she or he cannot abandon a child, or who kills to alleviate the child's suffering, either real or imagined is the one guilty of “despondent filicide”. If the spouse is killed also and the perpetrator commits suicide, the crime is one of “familicide”. In studies of familicide, there is often a history of domestic violence, but few warnings of any impending explosion, since the abuser may very often be despondent or withdrawn as opposed to threatening or overbearing.

We are becoming demented as a society. We have lost our equilibrium, we have misplaced our values, we have lost our shame and we are selfishly pursuing paths of least resistance, yearn for instant gratification, demand personal gain, have abandoned the common good for egotistical agendas. We see more of these offences, more dishonesty, more senseless crimes, more violence on all levels. The state of our economy is the end result of greed and the sacrifice of the general good of the community for obscene personal gain. Is this civilisation? Can such a sick society survive? Is it surprising that “familicide” is becoming more common?

-cide
combining form
1 denoting a person or substance that kills: Insecticide | regicide.
2 denoting an act of killing: Homicide | suicide.
ORIGIN via French; sense 1 from Latin -cida; sense 2 from Latin -cidium, both from caedere ‘kill.’

THE PARTY

“Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory.” – Albert Schweitzer

Memories define who we are, can influence our actions, may shape the rest of lives. We often cling to sweet memories so that the bitterness of the present is tempered like coffee, sweetened with sugar. Painful memories are dulled by time so that their acrid essence is distilled into something more refined than the raw gut-wrenching agony we felt when we experienced the reality that birthed them. Some memories live on vivid and fresh, either to delight or torture. Strong emotional reactions engender long-lived memories. Here is a poem written about persistent memories.

The Party

I’ll throw a party and invite
Old wounds, my recent pain;
I’ll sing and laugh all night,
Forgive, forget, and feign
That all’s well, all’s bright.

My party’s doors are open wide
So that my memories may come,
To tell me that enough I’ve cried.
Past loves, that heart will numb,
File in, remembrances to chide.

The music sounds strong and loud,
Old bitternesses will dance and sway.
My soul will fly above the cloud,
Colours will cover all my gray,
Bright cloth replaces my shroud.

I’ll drink and sweet will be the wine,
My anguished mind will succumb
To blessed forgetfulness divine.
Cool logic will be struck dumb
And broken heart no longer pine.

Bright lights to burn until the morn,
Feet never to leave the dance floor.
But in my side there’ll be pain, a thorn:
Your absence, still an open sore;
And in my party I alone will mourn.

MOZART, NICOTIANA & CLIMATE CHANGE

“The prudence of the best heads is often defeated by the tenderness of the best hearts” – Henry Fielding

Today marks the anniversary of the birth of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791) the Austrian composer whose works represent one of the greatest peaks of Western music. His works, written in every one of the possible forms, combine beauty of melody, harmony and orchestration with classical grace and technical perfection. Mozart learned to play the harpsichord, violin, and organ from his father, Leopold Mozart, (1719–1787), also a composer and violinist. A remarkable prodigy, the young Mozart was composing by the age of five and presenting concerts throughout Europe as a child.

His Idomeneo (1781) is one of the best examples of 18th century opera seria. The Abduction from the Seraglio (1782), a singspiel combining songs and German dialogue, brought some success to him. He turned to the Italian opera buffa, creating the comic masterpiece The Marriage of Figaro (1786). Don Giovanni, considered “difficult” in its day but now recognized as one of the most brilliant operas ever written, followed in 1787. Eine kleine Nachtmusik (1787) is an example of the elegant occasional music and begins with one of the most well known melodies in classical music.

In 1788 he wrote his last three symphonies, Numbers 39–41, which display his complete mastery of form and intense personal feeling. In Vienna he produced his last opera buffa, Cosi fan tutte (1790). In The Magic Flute (1791) he returned to the singspiel, bringing the form to a great height. He then worked feverishly on a Requiem commissioned by a nobleman; it proved to be Mozart's own, and the work was completed by his pupil Franz Süssmayr. The composer died at 35 in poverty and was buried in a pauper’s grave.

The birthday plant for today is the tobacco flower, Nicotiana alata. The genus (named after Jean Nicot, the 16th century French Consul to Portugal) also includes the tobacco plant. Many species contain in their leaves the deadly poison nicotine, which in small doses is addictive. The plants are native to the Americas and the Amerindians used to smoke the dried leaves of the plant before the arrival of the white conquerors. Sir Walter Raleigh introduced tobacco to Europe in the 16th century. The flower symbolises forbidden pleasures and deadly addictions for obvious reasons...

Today we had a temperature of 39˚C. The weather bureau predicts temperatures above 40˚C in the next four days with a cool change on Sunday bringing the expected maximum down to 31˚C. These temperatures on consecutive days have not been seen for decades in Melbourne. Our climate is definitely changing and we had better get used to extremes of temperature and the breaking of weather records from now on. These weather extremes are not unprecedented, they have been recorded by palaeometeorologists who have found evidence of several changes in our climate over the millions of years of earth’s existence. Several of these climate changes may have been responsible for extinctions of species and one of them nearly wiped out the human species.

This particular disaster happened 70,000 years ago and was caused by a massive volcanic eruption on the island of Sumatra, Indonesia. The volcano was Toba and where a tall mountain was in the past, now all that remains if a large lake. The eruption was a cataclysmic event which must have happened suddenly (so the geological records indicate). It spewed 2800 cubic kilometers of volcanic material into the atmosphere, making it the most violent eruption of the last two million years (The mount St Helen’s eruption, being the largest in living memory produced only one cubic kilometer of material in its 1980 eruption).

Scientists have traced Toba’s volcanic dust throughout the world, but worse over Southeast Asia, India, the Middle East, with some deposits of ash as high as 6 metres in some digs in India. The dust and ash in the atmosphere caused immediate effects on climate, with about six years of a volcanic winter. Plant life and animal life was wiped out by the billions as global temperatures fell by an average of about 12˚C. A few tropical areas in Africa with high rainfall were able to sustain life.

It has been suggested that total human population was reduced to about 10,000 individuals. This is supported by genetic data and explains why the genetic diversity of today’s human population is so narrow. For centuries, each new generation of humans could have easily been the last. We owe our survival to those few thousands of resourceful humans that managed to survive the geological disaster that nearly wiped out our species. Sobering, isn’t it? Trouble is, it’s happening all over again and this time we only have ourselves to blame…

Well to cheer you up here is some Mozart! First the virtual “Mozartkugel”, a delicious chocolate bonbon of Salzburg with a centre of pistachio marzipan, almond nougat and dark chocolate. Now made to the same recipe in several cities it is available around the world. Secondly, here is a delicious musical bonbon by the master himself, the Andante from his Piano Concerto No 21, “Elvira Madigan”.

"AUSTRALIA" FOR AUSTRALIA DAY

“Nationalism is both a vital medicine and a dangerous drug” - Geoffrey Blainey

Happy Australia Day, Australia! Happy Republic Day, India!

January 26th marks these national anniversaries and in both countries there are national holidays and general rejoicing as both countries celebrate their national identities.

Australia is a continent-country, in area the sixth largest country in the world, about 7.6 million square km in area. It gained its independence from UK in 1901 and its present population of 21,572,816 people has accrued through colonisation and large immigration programmes. The capital city is Canberra, but this is an artificial city, a created small administrative centre. The largest urban centres are Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Perth, Adelaide and Darwin. The North is subtropical and the South-eastern coast has temperate, almost Mediterranean climate. The majority of the continent is arid desert and scrub, making Australia one of the driest, if not the driest place on earth. Vast mineral, oil, coal and natural gas resources exist and the fertile plains around the coast make this a bountiful land. Immense open spaces make Australia one of the least density populated nations with only 2 people per square km. A country of largely underdeveloped rich resources, great natural beauty and relative isolation ensure Australia’s growing importance as a local and world power in the future.

In tribute to our national day today, here is my Movie Monday review of Baz Luhrmann’s, 2008 film “Australia”. The movie is of epic proportions (almost three hours long) and with sweeping themes as big as the Australian landscape. It is set in northern Australia at the beginning of World War II, where an English aristocrat (Nicole Kidman) inherits an enormous cattle station. Amid suspicions of foul play, and rampant English cattle barons who plot to take her land, she joins forces with a rough and ready stock-man (Hugh Jackman) to drive 2,000 head of cattle across hundreds of miles of the country's most rough and cruel land. They arrive in Darwin to witness its bombing by the Japanese forces that had attacked Pearl Harbor only months earlier.

The film is difficult to categorise, hence my characterisation of “epic” before. There is romance, adventure, mystery, war, period piece and I guess some would say even “Western”. It is a hodge-podge, true, but the majesty of the locations and the scene-stealing outback raise it to the level of an epic. There is humour in it and pathos, but one may recognize touches of “Gone with Wind”, “Out of Africa”, “Rabbitproof Fence”, Wizard of Oz”… But to be truly original is getting harder and harder nowadays. Luhrmann was given a big budget and he pulled out all stops. Good old-fashioned melodrama is what he achieved, replete with the clichés, the corny dialogue and the rather stilted acting at times.

Yet the film is engaging and if one goes into it not determined to can it, one can enjoy it. It has flaws (including historical clangers – the Japanese never managed to land on Australian soil in WWII, as the film suggests), but also one may enjoy its multiple virtues. Young Brandon Walters as the endearing young aboriginal boy Nullah will impress most viewers and the appearance of some well-known Australian actors such as Jack Thompson and Bryan Brown will entertain and amuse.

The film is quite controversial and has polarized viewers and critics. Some scream “garbage”, while others heap praise on it. As for myself, I can say it’s no masterpiece, but it was entertaining and undemanding. Escapist and not overly involving of one’s higher mentative faculties. There has been too much hype about it, which I don’t think has helped the movie. See it, make up your own mind.

ART SUNDAY - THE PRADO

“Fine art is that in which the hand, the head, and the heart of man go together.” - John Ruskin

It’s been a stressful day today with some sickness in the family and a trip to the hospital. All has ended well, however, and it’s now back to normal. Never rains, it pours, they say…

For Art Sunday, I decided to take a virtual trip to one of the great museums in the world, the Prado in Madrid. I have fond memories of visiting this museum when I was in Madrid and it's fantastic to now have the ability through technology to revisit it and focus in on some of the exhibited masterpieces in this museum.

The way to do it is to use “Google Earth”, which can be downloaded for free at http://earth.google.com/ . Once you have downloaded it, type “Prado, Madrid” in the search box and you will be flown to the museum where you will enjoy ultra-high resolution images of some of the most famous paintings in the world.

The screen shot above is from my virtual trip and you can see a detail of the marvellous “Las Meniñas” of Diego Velázquez, painted in 1656. The work's complex and enigmatic composition raises questions about reality and illusion, and creates an uncertain relationship between the viewer and the figures depicted. Because of these complexities, “Las Meniñas” has been one of the most widely analysed works in Western painting.

Las Meniñas shows a large room in the Madrid palace of King Philip IV of Spain, and presents a snapshot of several figures from the Spanish court of the time. Some figures look out of the canvas towards the viewer, while others interact among themselves. The young Infant Margarita is surrounded by her entourage of maids of honour (= Las meniñas), chaperone, bodyguard, two dwarfs and a dog. Just behind them, Velázquez portrays himself working at a large canvas. Velázquez looks outwards, beyond the pictorial space to where a viewer of the painting would stand. A mirror hangs in the background and reflects the upper bodies of the king and queen. The royal couple appear to be placed outside the picture space in a position similar to that of the viewer, although some scholars have speculated that their image is a reflection from the painting Velázquez is shown working on.

The painting has been described as “Velázquez's supreme achievement, a highly self-conscious, calculated demonstration of what painting could achieve, and perhaps the most searching comment ever made on the possibilities of the easel painting”.
Go visit the Prado, this weekend!

A SONG, A DEATH

“Alas for those that never sing, But die with all their music in them!” - Oliver Wendell Holmes

For Song Saturday, a beautiful song by Lucio Dalla, “Caruso” sung by Lara Fabian, an Italian/Belgian singer who trained as a classical lyric soprano before becoming a pop idol.



Caruso
by Lucio Dalla

Here where the sea sparkles,
And where the wind blows forcefully,
On an old terrace above the gulf of Sorrento,
A man embraces a young woman
Who has just wept…
Then he clears his voice
And begins anew his song:

“I love you so very much,
So very, very much, you know;
It’s a chain by now
It’s a heat in the blood
Inside the veins, you know…”

He looks at the lights shimmering on the sea
And brings to mind the nights there in America.
They are only the fishing lamps
And the sparkling wake of the boat on the water.
He feels the pain of the music,
Stands up, away from the piano;
But as he sees the moon emerging from behind a cloud,
Even death seems sweet to him, then.
He looks at the girl’s eyes,
Those eyes, as green as the sea,
From which a tear falls
In which he believes that he might drown.

“I love you so very much,
So very, very much, you know;
It’s a chain by now
It’s a heat in the blood
Inside the veins, you know…”

What power there is in lyric opera,
Where every drama is false!
A little make-up is all it takes
And with a little acting,
You can become someone else.
So everything becomes so small,
Like the nights there in America…
You turn and you see your life disappear
Like the wake of the boat on the water…

“I love you so very much,
So very, very much, you know;
It’s a chain by now
It’s a heat in the blood
Inside the veins, you know…”

One of my aunts in Greece died this week. She was 88 years old and she had recently had a bad fall. They did not tell us of her death until after the funeral. Distance and time separate people, families are split, our lives become propelled by so much forceful acceleration that it becomes hard to stop, take stock of things and do something before it’s too late.

My aunt represented another time and place for me, so distant that even her death has made little difference to my idea of her as living history. The last time I had seen her was several years ago when I had visited Greece and I had been surprised at how much she had aged and had become smaller, more fragile than what she seemed when I was a child. She had looked at me then with pride and had laughed when I was telling her of our life here in Australia. We drove out into the countryside and visited a place that I remembered from infancy, one of the earliest memories of mine form the 60s. How the place had changed and yet the spirit of it was the same. Because she had been there, both times?

She was the last left of my father’s eight siblings left alive and now only my father lives.
Vale, auntie…

MOJITO

“Drunkenness is temporary suicide.” - Bertrand Russell

The Mojito is a Cuban cocktail that has rum as its base and is flavoured with mint and limes. It originated in the 16th century when Sir Francis Drake was in the Caribbean plundering the wealth of the New World, his piracy officially sanctioned by Elizabeth I. When he was visiting the West Indies, Francis Drake was to sack Havana and plunder its gold, but at the last minute he sailed away. Richard Drake, his subordinate was left behind and he invented a drink called the Draque based on aguardiente, the forerunner of rum.

In 1593, no doubt inspired by Elizabeth I’s monopoly patent on spirits, Richard Drake concocted the Draque. Aguardiente, sugar, lime and mint were combined to make a drink whose purpose was medicinal. Well that was Drake’s story and he stuck to it… In the 1800s, Don Facundo Bacardi Massó (the founder of the Bacardi company), substituted the aguardiente with rum and the mojito was born. The word mojito is a diminutive of “mojo” of African origin (Gullah: “moco”) meaning a magic charm, talisman, hoodoo or spell. An alternative derivation is from the Spanish verb “mojar” (to make wet), and “mojo” meaning wet. A popular Cuban sauce made of limes, sour oranges, garlic and olive oil is also known as “mojo”.

A mojito is traditionally made of five ingredients: white rum, sugar (or even better “guarapo” – sugar cane juice), lime, mint and soda water. It has a taste which is a combination of sweetness, refreshing citrus and mint flavours that mask the potent kick of the rum. The mojito is a popular summer drink.

To prepare a mojito, lime juice is added to sugar (or syrup) and mint leaves. The mixture is then gently mashed with a muddler. The mint leaves should only be bruised to release the essential oils and must not be shredded. Then rum is added and the mixture is briefly stirred to dissolve the sugar and to lift the mint sprigs up from the bottom for better presentation. Finally, the drink is topped with ice cubes and sparkling water, and mint leaves and lime wedges are used to garnish the glass. Variosu recipes exist and personal taste prevails as to the exact proportions. The Bacardi mojito web page has several. Here is a classic recipe:

MOJITO

Ingredients
1 part white rum
½ lime
Some mint leaves
Dessertspoonful icing sugar
Ice cubes
Enough soda water to fill the highball glass

Method
Place the lime in wedges, the sugar, the mint in a highball glass and muddle with pestle. Don’t crush the mint, just bruise it gently so that it releases its fragrant oils and the lime its juice. Add the rum and ice cubes and fill the glass with soda water. Stir and garnish with a mint sprig and a lime slice.

ST VINCENT vs ST ANASTASIUS

“Wine is sunlight, held together by water.” – Galileo Galilei

Mullein, Verbascum nigrum, is today’s birthday plant. It symbolises nature and in the language of flowers says: “Take courage”, its bright yellow flowers striking a confident note. Astrologically, it is a saturnine plant. In olden times the plant was stripped of its leaves, the stem dried and dipped in tallow grease to make candles. Hence the alternative name for the plant “candelwick”, “hedge taper” and “Jupiter’s staff”.

Those of the Catholic faith celebrate St Vincent of Saragossa’s Feast Day today. St. Vincent, the protomartyr of Spain, was a deacon of the 3rd century. Together with his Bishop, Valerius of Saragossa, he was apprehended during a persecution of Dacian the governor of Spain. Valerius was banished but Vincent was subjected to fierce tortures before ultimately dying from his wounds. According to details of his death (which seem to have been considerably embellished later on), his flesh was pierced with iron hooks, he was bound upon a red-hot gridiron and roasted, and he was cast into a prison and laid on a floor strewn with broken pottery. But through it all his constancy remained unmoved (leading to his jailer's conversion) and he survived until his friends were allowed to see him and prepare a bed for on which he died. The saint's fame spread rapidly throughout Gaul and Africa. He is the patron saint of winegrowers, winemakers, vinegar makers and schoolgirls!

If the weather is good (in the Northern hemisphere) on this day, a good wine harvest is said to be assured:
Remember on St Vincent’s Day
If that the sun his beams display
For ‘tis a token, bright and clear
Of prosperous weather all the year.

Fittingly, the word of the day is: “Oenophile”

oenophile |ˈēnəˌfīl| noun
A connoisseur of wines.
DERIVATIVES
Oenophilia /ˌɛnoʊˈfɪliə/; oenophilist |ēˈnäfəlist| nouns
ORIGIN
Oenophilia originally from Greek, is the love (philia) of wine (oinos). An oenophile is a lover of wine.

The Greek Orthodox faith celebrates St Anastasius I (ca 430-518 AD) who was a Roman emperor of the East (491-518), successor of Zeno, whose widow he married. He made peace with Persia, maintained friendly relations with Theodoric the Great and made Clovis I an ally. He protected Constantinople from attack by building a new city wall and he aided the poor in his kingdom by revising the tax system. He abolished gladiatorial contests, but his monophysite tendencies stirred religious unrest in the empire. St Anastasius is the patron saint of goldsmiths.

SOLUTIONS IN THE END

“Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated.” – Alphonse de Lamartine

A poem that was written quite a few years ago and seemed at the time to presage an imminent finality, which really only heralded a new beginning. As Jean Giraudoux wisely observes: “Sadness flies on the wings of the morning and out of the heart of darkness comes the light.” But how slowly that dawn is in coming, and how the night tarries… How hopelessly lost hope seems and how easy it is to think that the only solution is the end?

Solutions in the End

Early morning, wan light creeping in through half-shut window,
Remembrance of the full-moonlight last night; your indifference;
The phone that refused to ring, refused to ring, refused to ring…
And above all the smell of bitter almonds, cyanide.

Your smile, how I read into it so much, so many hidden meanings…
But it’s really silent, inarticulate, mute – I imagined it all,
While a false hope stops me solving everything neatly, quickly, finally.
And the bitter taste, that pungent acridity of strychnine.

My thoughts, the rain, the tyranny of your relentless presence;
Even when absent, you’re by my side, with me.
My fantasy, a secret mythology - how endless, inexhaustible my patience…
And there, now, I feel the keen caress of sharp razor on my wrist.

Pleasure so dear, of its precious draught I tasted only a single drop,
Like a drop of water on parched lips of desert traveller lost in the sands;
Your oasis a cruel mirage, a simple illusion by physics explained.
And next to my ear, the deafening sound of a discharging pistol.

The endless night, the dawn that comes, comes, comes,
And never arrives; while in futility, I wait and wait and wait…
You never arrive, never beside me, never with me.
Yet death comes in a thousand guises,
He hurries, running to keep our appointment
Bringing with him, the end, solutions and redemption…

OUT WITH THE OLD, IN WITH THE NEW

“Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all.” – Vachel Lindsay

The inauguration of President Elect Barack Obama is making headlines around the world today and Washington is preparing for a massive influx of people from all over the US who want to be present at this historic event. The charismatic Obama succeeds the gauche Bush who has been described by many newspapers around the world as the “worst president the USA has had”. The Iraq war, a controversial re-election, the response to Katrina, the lying to Congress, the personal exemption of himself from the laws of the country he was president of, the unleashing of a “war on terrorism”, that if anything made things worse than better, and many more such acts have made outgoing President Bush a good contender for the title of “Worst President”. His presidency is ending with one of the worst economic crises to hit the world since the 1930s depression. His popularity is sinking to new lows not seen since the Nixon years (now, there’s another contender for the title of “Worst President”!).

Now that Obama-fever has swept the globe there is great hope that the incoming US president will lead the world into a new crisis-free era. The “Obama Effect” is being hailed as being enough to shorten the global recession. Analysts are more realistic and have warned that we should temper our expectations for his rule somewhat. Obama has already planned two trips to Europe in April for attending an international summit on the economic crisis and a NATO alliance meeting. European politicians are optimistic that more cooperation will be possible with the Obama administration than what has occurred with the Bush administration. This seems to be the general opinion in most countries around the world, with an average of 67% of people polled in various countries believing that Obama will strengthen America's relations abroad. Questioned about what the priorities of Obama should be, the answers were hardly surprising: The global financial crisis should be top priority, followed by pulling US troops out of Iraq, tackling climate change, brokering peace in the Middle East, improving social conditions at home, the health system, etc.

Russia's Prime Minister Vladimir Putin was one of the few world leaders to express skepticism of the “Obama Effect”. Putin stated with Slavic pragmatism that: “I am deeply convinced that the biggest disappointments are born out of big expectations”. I would certainly agree, and once the celebrations are over, once the early days of the “honeymoon” are over, once Obama begins to tackle the immense problems that he finds on his desk (and no doubt finds a few skeletons in the White House cupboards, also), the immensity of the task ahead of him will become manifest. Although I have confidence in Obama’s ability, the situation worldwide is not one that will be repaired with a few signatures here and there, a couple of state visits in a few countries and the passing of a few bills through Congress.

Barack Obama has a momentous task ahead of him. This is possibly the worst time that a President Elect has been in the position of assuming power in the most powerful political office in the world. Decisive action, immense diplomacy, boldness coupled with sensitivity, tact and moderate views, tolerance and goodwill are some of the many traits and qualities that Obama need resort to in order to deal with the many political, economic and social wildfires that are raging around the world. I only wish that the “Obama Effect” will help. My experience and logic say that things will get a lot worse before they get better – my innate optimism and hopeful nature want to believe that things can only get better, and they will begin to do so soon…

MOVIE MONDAY - BREAKING & ENTERING

“Chains do not hold a marriage together. It is threads, hundreds of tiny threads which sew people together through the years.” - Simone Signoret

The joys of marriage have been extolled through the ages by all the great authors and its woes have been bemoaned by countless ordinary folk who have to live through its misfortunes (here of course I define marriage in its broadest sense, de facto couples and all forms of other partnerships included). Marriage can be heaven or it can be hell, depending on whether you marry an angel or a devil. Marriage can be the highest estate or the basest torture. However, most marriages seem to amble along through the years reaching neither the heights of ideal union, nor do they plunge into the depths of Gehenna. Most marriages last for years and the two partners drift apart and come back together again in paths that criss-cross with affections that waver, feelings that twinkle sometimes dim and sometimes bright.

The movie I’ll review for Movie Monday examines a relationship that has reached a crisis point. A partnership that is forced to re-examine itself through an external agency. Most marriages of course will be affected by external stressors and it is usually an factor from the outside that will prove to be the undoing of the marriage. The film we watched last weekend is Anthony Minghella’s 2006 “Breaking and Entering”, which was also written by him. It stars Jude Law, Juliette Binoche, Robin Wright-Penn, Martin Freeman and Rafi Gavron. It is a quirky film, well directed and acted, with sufficient interest to maintain interest despite the rather slow pace and the 120 minute length.

The plot unfolds in Kings Cross, London, where the British architect Will lives with his Swedish mate Liv. Theirs is a tired relationship, where passion has died and where Liv’s sole occupation is to devote herself to the needs of Bea, her autistic daughter. Will and his partner Sandy move into a warehouse in Kings Cross in quite an unsavoury neighbourhood. Their grand plan is an architectural urban renewal project of magnificent proportions which will transform the seedy neighbourhood into prime residential and retail paradise. Miro is an orphan and a refugee from Serbia, and he lives close by with his mother Amira, who is a seamstress.

Miro is influenced by his crooked uncle and cousin who are thieves. Miro is a traceur - practitioner of “parkour”, an activity with the aim of moving from one point to another as efficiently and quickly as possible, using principally the abilities of the human body. It is meant to help one overcome obstacles, which can be anything in the surrounding environment, from branches and rocks to rails and concrete walls. He uses his considerable abilities to break into Will and Sandy’s company to burgle computers. This happens twice in a row, and after the police give Will and Sandy little hope of catching the burglars, Will decides to stake-out during the nights to find the culprit, and he witnesses Miro trying to break-into the firm again. Will runs after Miro and finds out where he lives.

Will does not call the police, and the next day visits Amira on the pretext of having a coat of his repaired. Will is attracted to Amira, visiting her everyday, while becoming more estranged from Liv. Amira finds out that Miro has been involved in the burglary of Will’s company and as Will is attracted to her, she has sex with him in order to obtain compromising photographs with which to blackmail him and assure that her son doesn’t end up in gaol…

The film is quite atmospheric in parts, very earthy and seedy in others. A couple of sub-plots prove to be rather distracting instead of enriching the main story line. However, the plot itself is strong enough to shine through and one enjoys seeing the movie, despite its minor weaknesses. Juliette Binoche is a wonderful Amira and the young Rafi Gavron plays the confused, displaced and hurt Miro marvellously. Jude Law is more decorative than accomplished as Will and Robin Wright-Penn plays the fragile Liv very well.

The theme of the movie is love and the type of love that can survive shocks and external stressors versus the “love” that is based on sexual attraction, lust, passion. Affection and love are contrasted as are different types of love, such as the love between mother and child and the love between son and (absent or lost) father. The fading relationship of Liv and Will is beautifully presented and in a conversation,Will says to Liv:
“I feel as if I'm tapping on a window. You're somewhere behind the glass but you can't hear me. Even when you're angry, like now, it's like someone a long long way away is angry with me.”

Amira who initially sees in Will a romantic love, and finds in her broken heart some sparks of love being reignited. She suffers when she suspects that Will is using her to put her son and brother in law behind bars. In defence of her son’s crimes she screams at Will:
“You steal someone's heart, that's really a crime.”

See the movie, I think it’s worth your while to hunt it out at your local video shop and rent it out, rather than wait for our TV to show it. In the meantime, tell what do you think of marriage? What are your experiences of it? Has it been Heaven or Hell for you? Or is it something that you wear, like a comfortable pair of jeans that gets more and more faded and threadbare with time?

VENUS AND MARS

“A woman can say more in a sigh than a man can say in a sermon.” T. Arnold Haultain

“Women are from Venus and Men are from Mars” by John Gray was published in 1992 and created quite a stir, although there was nothing much in it that was new. Gray was considering the age-old question, “Are men and women different and in what way?” The author uses the metaphor of women being Venusians and men being Martians as a way of illustrating the fundamental differences between the two sexes, that are so vast, they may as well be from different planets. Contrary to most psychologists Gray stresses these differences more than the similarities and uses examples to highlight them, especially in the way the two sexes react to stress and the way they resolve problems.

Venus and Mars were the Roman equivalents to the Greek Aphrodite and Ares, the gods of love and war respectively. That these two gods personified the archetypal female and male is not chance as they each as characteristics essential female and male traits. Numerous pieces of art in ancient Greece and Rome glorified these two gods, especially so Aphrodite/Venus. In the renaissance the ancient ideals were revivified and the ancient gods were resurrected.

Today a painting from 1483 by Sandro Botticelli (1445-1510) that depicts Venus and Mars after an adulterous assignation (Venus was married to the lame god Vulcan). Mars, exhausted, slumbers while Venus keeps vigil, her face calm yet alert, serene yet hiding much internal turmoil. Around them young fauns cavort and play with Mars’ armour, but not even the clash of iron nor the conch’s sound will wake the god of War. The clothed Venus, a picture of modesty, conceals an adulteress. Mars’ undress underlines the unruly young god’s insouciance and his only concern the sowing of wild oats…
Enjoy the week ahead…