Fireworks, Gunpowder and Revolutions

Remember, remember the fifth of November... tonight lots of people will be dazzled by fireworks and light huge bonfires. It's pyromania and literally anything you can find to mindlessly burn can be used as fuel. When I first experienced Guy Fawkes night I had no idea what the hell was going on and quite happily just went in search for combustibles to satisfy my inner pyro and was contentedly mesmerised by all the pretty fireworks. But today I thought about the significance of the failed Gunpowder Plot of 1605 in relation to the world in which we live today and found that the common denominator was Power. Today everyone is questioning those who wield power - presidents, prime ministers,dictators, bankers, businessmen, etc. It's not a new question however, it seems to me that 'we/the people' have put this question under a microscope and thrown it into a pressure cooker which is inevitably going to explode. What triggered me to write this instead of what I originally thought to muse on was watching a documentary on Egypt's fight for freedom. In particular, there were three people who caught my attention - Salma el Tarzi (aka Salma in the Square), Noor Ayman Nour and Bethania Kamel. The three stood out to me as being the new voices and identities of Egypt. When Salma spoke I sobbed into my eggs; when Noor described the climate in his country, I wanted to stand side-by-side with him and fight; and when I was introduced to Bethania I pondered over whether she would make a good President for these people. Furthermore, whether she would really stand for equality, establish the democratic rights of the people and harmonise the division between the Egyptian Muslims and Coptic Christians. It also made me ruminate over two novels I've read, both of which were set in Egypt . In Laurence Durrell's Alexandria Quartet he constantly reminds us that the characters of which he describes are true Alexandrians to the point where Alexandria itself becomes more and more the main character in the series. I wondered how true a reflection this was of the identity of the city and it's inhabitants, and then thought about what sort of change it had seen and is currently going through. What was more clear and relevant were the themes of socio-political change and citizenship that Naguib Mahfouz permeates throughout his epic Cairo Trilogy (it would seem you can't have a singular novel when it comes to Egypt). Both books describe indulgence in forbidden vices, the underworld of the country, the personalities of Egypt. But most of all the way in which both the slightest and the most dramatic changes can alter everything. I thought about our changing world, the way in which protesters have taken to the streets to question authority, to reclaim freedom, to reinstate/reinvent democracy, to claim citizenship and be heard. Aristotle tells me 'where the poor rule, there you have democracy' but Orwell makes me doubt there ever being such a state. The six billionth child of our world, aged 12, said he hoped for world peace just before the seven billionth child was born in Manila a few weeks ago. In 12 years I wonder what that child will think of the world she has grown up in, what changes she will see and what hopes she will have. Anyhow, this is all getting a tad serious so I shall leave you with a few quotes, pictures and sounds. Oh, but before I do, be careful when playing with fire.  

'A mighty flame followeth a tiny spark.' - Dante, Inferno

'The duty common to all human beings is perpetual revolution, and that is nothing other than an unceasing effort to further the will of life represented by its progress towards the ideal.' - Mahfouz, The Cairo Trilogy

'At every corner the violet shadows fell and foundered, striped with human experience – at once savage and tenderly lyrical. I took it as a measure of my maturity that I was filled no longer with  despairing self-pity but with a desire to be claimed by the city, enrolled among its trivial or tragic memories – if it so wished.' - Durrell, Justine

- Pea.  
(this entry is dedicated to those who drive change, revolution and ask questions)

Gil Scot Heron lyrics poster goes to Anon Camberwell COA

 

Trick or Treat?

It's Halloween! For some strange reason we people types seem to have some fascination with scaring the bejeezus out of our selves. When I was a nerdy twelve year old I used to hoard horror novels and read them before I went to bed and then be too frightened to sleep. And still to this day I will insist on watching The Shining. Alone. In the dark. The scene with the twin girls gives me shivers just thinking about it, not to mention when the kid starts chanting 'redrum' (murder backwards) in some sort of crazed, psychic trance. In terms of modern horror there's definitely some renaissance we're experiencing with vampires and zombies. In print we've got all that Twilight garbage (yeah, that's right, garbage) of teen vampires and in film the living dead keeps coming back to life in various forms on the silver screen every year. I think the most notable foundations in fiction we have of these two phantoms are Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and Bram Stoker's Dracula. Zombies v Vampires. Hotly debated in nerd circles worldwide. I've always maintained that people either love one and hate the other when it comes to these two classic Gothic novels. I clarified this theory with a girl who was sitting next to me on the tube reading Dracula and asked her what she thought. She was very much enjoying Stoker's offering and didn't much appreciate it's zombie counterpart and carried on to tell me that her boyfriend had the opposite opinion. Well, I'm with the boyfriend on this one. I was so desperately bored by Dracula that I got 9 pages away from finishing it and just couldn't be bothered with the rest. Sure, Stoker was all modern with using different narrative styles but crikey did he lather on all the Victorian schmuk! All this my lady Lucy, oh I will come to your rescue, never fear you poor young woman, blah, blah, bullshit. Utterly tiring. I'll admit, the first 4 chapters are good. These are Jonathan Harker's diary entries and where we get the chilling sense that the Count is not who he seems:

What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature, is it in the semblance of man? I feel the dread of this horrible place overpowering me. I am in fear, in awful fear, and there is no escape for me. I am encompassed about with terrors that I dare not think of.

These are Jonathan's thoughts when he witnesses the Count creeping down the steep, exterior walls of the castle face down and on all fours. But then the book descends into my dear this, my dear that, and turns into Victoriana hell.

Frankenstein is by far, in my books, the superior. Even the way in which Shelley conceived the plot has elements of horror. Whether true or not (it's much disputed but I'm given to hoping it's true) it was a dark, stormy night in the Swiss mountains where Shelley, husband Percy, and good friend Lord Byron were holidaying. Confined to their log fire and own imaginations they had a competition to see who could come up with the scariest story. Shelley came up with Dr. Frankenstein and his monster. The dead brought to life by a bolt of lightening. The creator shunning and despising his creation. Revenge, rejection, remorse! The book is made timeless because it delves into human nature - our judgments of others, our differences, kindness, rage, deceit, death, consciousness, happiness, existence, loneliness, justice, fragility, knowledge - Shelley crams all the vices, virtues and truths of man into this novel while still being true to the Gothic narrative style. I find it all the more convincing and frightening because man exists.

"Cursed, cursed creator! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I not extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly bestowed? I know not; despair had not yet taken possession of me; my feelings were those of rage and revenge. I could with pleasure have destroyed the cottage and its inhabitants and have glutted myself with their shrieks and misery.

Mwahahahahahahahaaaa. Hahahahaha. Hahaha ha. Ha. 

- P.  

The best thing to have come from Dracula.

The Art of Letter Writing

Recently I've moved to the other side of the world. Leaving my friends and all I know behind in London, I have found myself in Melbourne. As this move was not out of choice it has been one of the most difficult things I've had to do. Going from having a wonderful network of friends, a packed diary, and limitless lists of things to do, to entering into suburbia with nothing but houses and highways around and no-one in your contact list is a complete shock. It's like wandering around in a desert looking for fun things to do. I know there's an oasis around here somewhere but for now I'm just playing in the sand. Anyway, all my BFF's are scattered around London and have promised to always stay in contact. All that lovely technology out there means that it's so utterly simple to make the world a smaller place. Email, Skype, Facebook, Twitter, etc are great (and FREE) and when you're far away bring you instantly back to where you used to be. But this move has also given me the gift of letter writing. Sadly I think that writing and sending letters has fallen out of mode. Post you say?! It's almost like saying your going to fax something. I will argue vehemently that the fax is obsolete but I wanted to take this opportunity to hype about letter writing. Perhaps it's a little romantic but I love getting things in the post and, let's face it, these days it's most likely to be a bill. So when you receive a proper letter that's been lovingly penned by hand it's utterly joyous. So perhaps next time you're sending a little communique you might think of doing it the old fashioned way and send someone a little love by snail mail. Let's hear it for the Postman.

I am very much gratified that you, in a foreign country, and with a mind almost over occupied, should write to me in the strain of the Letter beside me.

- Keats (opening line of a letter to Shelley)

- Pea     

Introducing Pea

A good friend recently told me to start writing. She may be in Jordan currently residing over unexploded bombs, chatting to princesses and toting her pale, Scottish self over the blistering desert but I thought there may be some sense in her words. This blog is dedicated to all things in print - books, magazines, newspapers, letters, graffiti, tattoos, signs, prints on t-shirts... basically if it's written down somewhere, whatever the tenuous link to language, I may write about it. 

- Pea.

A taste of things to come. No leering tsk tsk tsk.