Hello
Gentle Reader
In
two-thousand and fifteen, we had visited a city, which had been built on both
stones and dreams; and often in haste. Beneath the stones of its apartments,
the glass and steel of its skyscrapers the river of oblivion circled, slowly
eroding the fragility of the city – which is comparable to a tree – both the
tree of the earth and sky; and the subterranean one, which is hidden from plain
sight. We toured a brightly lit Bucharest in both its dreams and nightmares. We
heard its stories, and listened about all its inhabitants. We observed the fragility of order and
commonplace structure, and how quickly it is abruptly changed, by a mistake or
a, misshape off stage, on some other set. An unfortunate allegory which appears
to parallel the news and stories of human crisis of two-thousand and fifteen. We
journeyed back to the cool temperatures of the former GDR, and saw how an
ideology is both maintained and propagated through the careful maintenance of
both machinery and temperature. We traveled through Iceland, in brief and often
odd vignette’s that were impressionistic and lingered long after they were
read. We were welcomed and observed as
others confronted their pasts, their prior thoughts, and steadily held beliefs.
We saw family corruption in times of political upheaval and a continual desire
to always survive history – even if it meant turning on our own family. The complexities
of human relationships – mother and daughter, husband and wife, brother and
sister, father and son – were tested and shown to be growing in complexity as
we enter an increasing connected but incommunicative age. We observed the
hapless love affair of a teacher, and his desired gypsy in parochial France;
and observed Saints, abbots and monks in their historical less then golden
gilded age. We saw the multifaceted narrative of a narrator, understanding his
place beyond the alienating confines of his village, and take particular
beauty, in its language, its story telling, and its folklore. We revisited the
Prague Spring, and were forced to observe the young man pouring petrol on
himself, and immolating himself against the reigning ideology and political
viewpoints. We found ourselves more at home on an island, then being a castaway
in some metropolis jungle.
Two-thousand
and fifteen was filled with great books! But it was also filled with political upheavals
and attacks against human rights, and freedom of speech. Paris was struck
twice. Europe found itself once again pushed to its limits of tolerance and
acceptance, while attempting to manage its ever growing crisis situations.
This
year’s Nobel Laureate was the Belorussian journalist and ‘human ear,’ Svetlana Alexievich
had discussed in her Nobel Lecture, this year’s Laureate discussed both the
horrors of history, the trials of the present, and the uncertainties of the
future; but maintains: love prevails; even if it’s hard to talk about or
believe in right now. Though questions do remains with this year’s Laureate, if
the Swedish Academy has opened its doors up to a new definition of what is
typically reserved for: prose, poetry and drama. In the end Svetlana Alexievich
is a worthy candidate.
Speaking
of the Swedish Academy, as mentioned before the new Permanente Secretary of the
Swedish Academy is Sara Danius; this is the first time a woman has held this
position within the Swedish Academy, and it will be unique to see what the
future Laureates in Literature will be shaped by and what criteria their
literature will need in order to receive the Nobel nod.
Two-thousand
and fifteen was a good year; and a rough year. But it’s been a year like all
others, and it is what we make of it. Though at times each of us are victims of
our circumstances, sometimes to get through these or those dark moments, a book
becomes a comforting and well deserved companion and friend.
Happy
New Year Gentle Reader! And Welcome to Two-Thousand and Sixteen!
Thank-you
For Reading Gentle Reader
Take
Care
And
As Always
Stay
Well Read
M.
Mary
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