Wolf Hall

Posted on July 6, 2010 by doradueck

The book I read on our recent vacation was Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel. This book, big enough to double as a door stop, is set in 1520s and 30s, the time of England’s King Henry VIII– he of the many wives — and tells the story of the English Reformation most particularly through the life of Henry’s chief minister, Thomas Cromwell. The book is beautifully written, and so rich in detail about characters, land and cityscapes, daily life and life at the court, and the unfolding events of Henry’s divorce of Katherine to marry Anne Boleyn, defying and then breaking with Rome to inaugurate the Church of England, you feel you’ve been taken back in time to be part of it. Mantel effectively establishes a world, a historical fictional world, and well deserves the 2009 Man Booker Prize she won for her efforts.

I was struck by two paradoxical things. One is how large — in their complexity — the changes that we can later call a Reformation are, and how slowly they happen. We study histories of the church (or other institutions) and give dates for beginnings, usually linked to some piece of paper like Martin Luther’s 95 Theses or in the case of my little denomination, the Document of Secession, but there is much more going on than that, before and after, personalities intertwined in long and interesting ways, convergences of all sorts, and misses too, which make up what we later name and date in our history books.

(I would have liked a stronger sense, in Wolf Hall, of the religious issues at stake, although they are certainly alluded to often: arguments over the sacraments, vernacular translations of Scripture, spiritual authority, and over on the Continent, religious ferment of all kinds, including those extreme Anabaptists at Muenster. The English Reformation has been described as more political than theological. But perhaps shifts in belief or religious practice are never as purely “contesting for the faith”as we’d like to imagine, but collide and congress within individuals with their varying strengths and weaknesses and needs and agendas. So when we thank God for whatever reformation we’re particularly pleased about, we’ll probably have to recognize and thank for it in forms more human than holy.)

At the same time, I was struck by how small a wheel can make a change. Mantel puts it best herself, in this passage from the book:

The fate of peoples is made like this, two men in small rooms. Forget the coronations, the conclaves of cardinals, the pomp and processions. This is how the world changes: a counter pushed across a table, a pen stroke that alters the force of a phrase, a woman’s sigh as she passes and leaves on the air a trail of orange flower or rosewater; her hand pulling close the bed curtains, the discreet sigh of flesh against flesh.

Rich vocabulary for the beautiful game

Posted on July 2, 2010 by doradueck

Normally I’m not much of a sports fan, but for the big events like the World Cup, I also get involved, enjoying the televised dramas of athletes and nations, and the remarkable skillfulness and intricacies of what’s been called “the beautiful game.”

A bonus in this particular series is listening to the play by play commentary of the announcers (British they seem to be). I’m not the first person to mention this. Early in the series I recall a newspaper writer saying he’d taped an otherwise unremarkable game just to listen to the way it was called. The announcers have at their disposal a rich and fascinating vocabulary, drawn sometimes from the world of epic battle, sometimes from the earthy informality of schoolboys playing on a neighbourhood vacant lot, and it streams from them quite unstudied, it seems, as if they always talk in such vivid and varied ways.

I jotted down a few examples from today’s Ghana-Uruguay game. It was a “potentially crackling game,” though as the game progressed to its end with a tie, no prediction could be “forthcoming.” When one team did something well after a sluggish stretch, they were “rejuvenated.” A good opportunity stopped by the defense? They’d made “a total hash of that.” The Ghanians, it was declared, have “an insatiable appetite for work.” Something happened “in the winking of an eye” and a saved ball landed in the keeper’s “welcoming arms.”

It’s the game’s pace, perhaps, that leaves a little more room for adjectives than (our game) hockey’s “he gets the pass, he shoots, he scores.” One play was “a valiant job,” another “a heart-stopping moment.” On one play, the defenders not only defended but “bravely” defended.

Verbs of all sorts too, of course — strong and varied ones. Players “instigated” plays, the crowd was “roaring in anticipation” (and later, “had another blow on the vuvuzuela.”)

When Gyan missed the penalty kick in the last moments of overtime, he had his “glory snatched away, but he served his country well enough.” And when he stepped up for his turn at the deciding penalty kicks, “the whole of Africa [was] praying lightning doesn’t strike twice.”

Once, after a number of attempts on goal during regular play, the announcer said that no shots had been “particularly cogent.”

Did he just say cogent?

Beautiful game indeed.

Catch-up

Posted on June 30, 2010 by doradueck

The industrial bleakness of Baku’s Black City (above) depresses me slightly every time I come to this blog, because it reminds me of the still gushing oil spill… But Life Must On, as they say colloquially, and here it’s time to catch up.

When I first started “Borrowing Bones” last November, I commented that I don’t “use” my children in my writing much, because they have their own lives to interpret and describe, but — it being First Son’s birthday that day — I did post a baby photo of him and remarked how glad I am to be a mother. I also said that I would follow suit with the next two when their birthdays rolled around.

Daughter’s birthday falls at the end of May, and Second Son’s in the middle of June — so it’s more than high time to keep my promise. (Any parent knows you have to be fair to each child in turn, and you have to keep your promises.) So the little snapshot above is Daughter as a baby, held by her brother. Wow, they’re so cute — wish I could go back in time for a little cuddle with each of them.

And now? — Okay, just this once. Our oldest son is an engineer. He and his wife, who works as a doula and photographer (you can see her work on her blog under my “Family and Friends” list) have four children and live in Tsawwassen, B.C. Our second son just graduated (with honours, Mother inserts) from the University of Toronto’s law school. His wife is a teacher and they live in Toronto. And, they’re expecting a baby in November! Our daughter has been working here in Winnipeg for some years as an architectural technologist and living on her own, but just moved to Vancouver. She’s going to bike the summer away, as well as hike the West Coast Trail with the brother pictured above and other assorted relatives, and then see what the fall unfolds in terms of further adventures and work.

H. and I are no longer in the middle of their hearts, and that’s how it should be, but we’re still in the middle of the country, reasonably healthy and usually happy. Yesterday I enjoyed driving to Winkler, then reading from This Hidden Thing at the Winkler Public Library. H.’s huge number of tomato plants and carrots are growing well. (Tomatoes and carrots are two of his favourite foods). We’re thrilled with Paraguay’s advance to the next round of the World Cup.

And in between our thoughts flit east and west.