Belgium

At least, not unless you have lived in Belgium for a long time, ideally all your life.  But this is funny.  Also, I see that the long disputed Brussels Halle Vilvoorde (BHV to its friends) constituency rated a mention in the FT the other day.  And I have kept a supplement that came with Le Soir on the linguistic regime in Belgium.  I may put it up on my wall.  All this on the day that the French say they wouldn’t mind Wallonia being tacked on to France.  Sigh.  This is all beginning to take its toll.  As is NaBloPoMo.

Onwards.  L is for Lewis.

C.S. Lewis, of course, another convert.  I read “The Magician’s Nephew” when I was in second class (7/8).  I can still remember how hard it was to read and stumbling over the unfamiliar words.  I got it from the library at the back of the classroom and I sat at a sunny window and read and read.  I think it must have been by far the hardest thing I had ever read and I took long breaks to look at the picture on the cover and wish that there were perhaps a couple of more pictures accompanying the text.  I can also remember having real difficulty in imagining how “Digory” might be pronounced.  It is probably still my favourite Narnia book.  They are all wonderful although I find “The Last Battle” a bit depressing now.  I remember having a lengthy argument with my (11 months) older friend (now an Ambassador to Vietnam) about how “The Magician’s Nephew” was the first of the Narnia books, which it was.  Very annoyingly, using her 11 months of knowledge to the full, she was able to inform me, quite rightly, that “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe” was written first and “The Magician’s Nephew” was thought up to explain it.   I still have, here on the bookshelf, the full set of the Narnia books that my father brought me home from London as a present in the 1970s and I still read them very regularly.  I hope that my children will love them too.

The Belgian crisis continues, you know. Many of the neighbours have Belgian flags hanging from their windows. I overheard a tram driver saying darkly that some areas have more flags than others. Our commune is staunchly in favour of the continuation of Belgium, if the matter can be judged by the number of flags. A website has been set up to encourage people to stick with the Belgian project but I can’t remember the address and nor can I find it by googling the obvious words (there is some irony there I feel).

The King continues to be rushed off his feet. No, really. He had surgery on his hip recently and when he woke up from the operation, he told his consultant that all the time he was under, he had dreams about the negotiations on the future of Belgium. He is a busy man, the King of the Belgians, perhaps he should relax and enjoy the position while it lasts.

I see that there is concern in the circles that are paid to be concerned by such things that the lack of any government in Belgium means that the Lisbon Treaty may not be ratified in December and all hell will break loose. If you care, the Lisbon Treaty is the redraft of the ill-fated constitutional Treaty which, depending on whom you listen to is either completely different from or identical to its predecessor. OK, you didn’t care, did you?

I recently got an email from an English language bookshop here entitled “Does Belgium Matter? In case you care, or want to trot along, here are the details:

Book presentation: “How can one not be interested in Belgian History: War, Language and Consensus in Belgium since 1830”

142 days since the last general elections and still no new government in Belgium. While analysts discuss the possibility of the end of Belgium, Belgian flags are appearing at the windows of houses around Brussels. So does Belgium matter?

Two years ago, during the 175th anniversary of Belgium, Martine Van Berlo, lecturer of Dutch languages in the Department of Germanic studies at Trinity College Dublin, organised a symposium, ‘Belgium revealed’. The speakers (Benno Barnard, Geert van Istendael, Marc Reynebeau and Sophie de Schaepdrijver) each highlighted a specific vision of the origins of Belgium independence and of what that complex notion of ‘belgitude’ is ultimately all about. An unexpected image of Belgium was projected to the Irish audience of a post-nationalist, federal country, combining cultural pragmatism with a rather solid social consensus … A country quite capable of playing its own role on the European and international scene.

Following the symposium, a small volume of the presentations was published, in which was also included an essay by Tony Judt, “Is There a Belgium?”. Belgium does matter. This book tells you why.

On Thursday 15th November from 7:30pm onwards, Nicola’s Bookshop (you need to email to get in, such is the popularity of Belgium as a topic but entrance is free) will host a Presentation by Martine Van Berlo of the mentioned book. There will be a question & answer session after the presentation where you will be able to voice your opinion on the state of Belgium!

This will be followed by a taste of some of Belgium’s best products (beer, cheese, waffles, pralines)!

* * * * * * * * *
Synopsis:

Belgium rarely attracts foreign notice. Yet the country is more than fine chocolates, delicious beers or Tintin. This volume celebrates Belgium as a federal, post-nationalist country, which combines cultural pragmatism with a rather solid social
consensus. It presents a critical vision on the origins of Belgian independence and on that complex notion named ‘belgitude’. It illustrates how a deep-seated tradition of local autonomy and suspicion towards state authority go hand in hand with a strong sense of individual tolerance and solidarity, with a refusal of violent confrontation and a continuous search for consensus. Prominent commentators on things Belgian combine critical and irreverent observations with a strong attachment to the existence of the country and its role on the international stage. They emphasise the potential of linguistic diversity and cultural plurality. They also point out the ambivalent relation between history, national myths, and the ‘lasagne’ identity of most Belgians. Belgium may be a model or a warning. Its history addresses questions of identity and security, of a sense of cohesion and common purpose – or the lack thereof.

Belgium does matter. This volume tells you why.

Nablopomo

E is for Eugenides which is just as well. Also, it turns out D is for Didion and Darrieussecq and C is for Clarke; this alphabetical index is harder than I thought.

Anne Enright won the Booker prize and I have read two of her books. She does not appeal, we will move on. Dave Eggers – the man who gave us “A heartbreaking work of staggering genius” is overblown. Mr. Eugenides is, however, interesting. I find that his style makes him a bit heavy going. I bought “The Virgin Suicides” many years ago because I was intrigued by the title. It is intriguing and funny in places. “Middlesex” was more entertaining and a very interesting premise. As a fringe benefit it provides a tutorial on the Turkish invasion of Cyprus. A little long but recommended, particularly if you are thinking of marrying a sibling.

Joan Didion’s book “The Year of Magical Thinking” is one of the best books I have read in the past year but terribly, terribly sad. I haven’t read any of her other books but I will.
I have read two of Marie Darrieussecq’s books; that’s a lot when you consider I read them in French. “Truismes” is translated into English as “Pig Tales” which tells you a lot more about the book. It is, essentially, the story of a woman who turns into a pig. It was an enormous success in France and my French flat mate gave it to me to read. It was alright; perhaps some of the humour escaped me as I was reading in a foreign language. For whatever reason, despite this uninspiring beginning, I bought her book “Le Bebe” and it was, undoubtedly, the best book about having a new baby that I have read. In it she says that she is superstitious about writing another of her works of fiction (featuring as they do the weird and the grotesque); that makes it so odd that she has now written a book about a mother who loses her baby – “Tom est mort”. It caused a bit of excitement in France. I’m planning to read it when I’m feeling strong.

Finally, I so enjoyed Susanna Clarke’s “Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell” in a sort of this is very long and very odd and you need to do some work on your understanding of presently kind of way that I think it only fair to include it.

And tomorrow it will be F – I am unstoppable. Your E recommendations accepted with pleasure.

Today the Princess and I went to the ghoulish museum doing scary things for Halloween. I had my reservations both before and afterwards but it was probably worth it for the following three things:

1. The perfectly normal man at the entrance who explained solemnly to each group what they needed to win the prize at the end of the tour. This included a spot the difference competiton and marking your card with the seal of Satan (available down stairs).

2. The mother of a number of young children on her mobile to a friend gushing about the exhibition (showing monstrous beasts made of plastic and spittle) “it’s so sweet”.

3. Seeing that it was supported by the local commune under the heading of culture and small and medium enterprises.

We also went to this exhibition on the history of Europe. There are a lot of dead people in the history of Europe and many of them died in particularly unpleasant ways – particularly when you throw in colonial history for good measure. Even four year olds notice piles of skulls and shoes and want to know all about it. Challenging.

Nablpomo – D is for Doyle and Dickens and I forgot Rachel Cusk yesterday and thanks to a prod from C in the comments have remembered Pat Barker for B. This is going to be a lot more difficult than I thought.

Roddy Doyle is very funny and easy to read and thoughtful and clever as well. He does Dublin dialogue like nobody else. As far as I am concerned he didn’t put a foot wrong until he wrote “A Star called Henry”. Then he put both feet wrong; it is a quite dreadful book – dull and (oh the bitterness) humourless. I didn’t bother with the rest of the trilogy but he’s back on track with the latest “Paula Spencer” novel which is the latest update on the former alcoholic, former battered wife whom we’ve been following for years. Oh so much better than that makes it sound.

Charles Dickens – very readable, I am sure that he is delighted by my endorsement.

Rachel Cusk writes very well but she is odd and neurotic. I am a little ambivalent about her but I plan to keep buying her books.

I think I have read all Pat Barker’s books. The Regeneration Trilogy is, like everything she writes, very good and very readable but she owes a huge debt to Robert Graves’s “Goodbye to all That” which is, I think, a better read. I find her other books interesting – they are all about the less obvious consequences of war on civilian life.

Yesterday, the Princess and I went to see Ratatouille. Paris looked delightful and I said to her that we might go there together one day. She seemed unmoved by the proffered treat but I was misty eyed at the thought of mother-daughter bonding. Maybe she was dubious about hygiene standards in the kitchens there.

Today, at lunch time, I sneaked off to a short film about Rubens in the gallery. On my way in I noticed a small fat man kissing the hand of a tall blond woman. She looked mildly familiar.  Once I got in, there was a speech welcoming Princess Mathilde (aha, that’s who she was, future queen of Belgium, assuming that there is a Belgium to be queen of) who, in many ways, sounded like the rest of the working mother brigade as the speaker referred to her younger son who was 2 today and her older son who was laid up with measles.

The film reminded me that when my daughter and I have our trip to Paris, we must see the Marie de Medici cycle in the Louvre. I really recommend clicking on the link, Marie de Medici had a busy life and capturing it in pictorial form required all of the painter’s genius.

I passed Mathilde again on the way out having her hand kissed by some other fat man and chatting amiably to the event organiser but it was all very peaceful. Given that Mathilde is Belgium’s answer to Princess Diana (except that she appears to be smarter, saner and somewhat plainer) I was expecting slightly more of a throng than two but apparently not.